Slide your fingers
over & around
yourself
spreading soft-petals,
slipping inside
to remind us
of that moment,
that moment when
nothing else matters,
but the survival of
our beautiful species,
you & me,
this love.

You were no accident Sweet Pilgrim.
You were sent here,
on a sacred commission
& I pray for your kisses,
to see the sun
never set on your broken heart.
Jesus, how do I rewrite history....
You were once mine,
I'm calling you home now
Darling.

She lay in rapture,
panting.
A coy
dreamy,
satisfied smile
painted her lips,
her tips were granite.
A sheen of salinity coated her body
like fine Welsh silver flake
& I licked every crevice
of her shapely form,
coaxed every delicious flavor
I could find,
listening to her screaming
& aching for more.

Sgt. Jack came back
from overseas
and he didn’t give one.
He’d sit outside his backdoor
for hours popping caps,
swilling cheap beer,
smoking Camels
with his rifle at the ready nearby,
a forty-five in his belt.

He’d yell at his dog constantly,
expecting it to respond
in a friendly manner,
but the rocks
he had thrown at it
over time
had spooked it
into a submissive role.

He never said much,
just stared,
stared with wild blood-shot eyes
that darted to and fro into space.
He’d nervously look at the horizon
as if something was always about to happen.
His favorite line was,
“Lock and loaded, let’s move.”
And when a car would backfire,
he’d scream, “Incoming!”

His wife left him for his best friend,
his kids never came back around,
and his dog died without him moving a muscle.
The ****** thing decomposed
right out in the middle of his backyard.
I guess he was used to
the sweet smell of death.

Shot like a cannonball
from the ported-jet,
I swam furiously out
into your hot privacy,
wet tender moments,
where I,
circling
your painted-toes,
sizzled up along
your shapely-legs
upward over
your cute-tummy,
so yummy to drift
along your slender neck
& soft shoulders
to the swirling surface.

Now feeling bolder,
I dove downward,
deeper to meet
your sweet playful feet,
only to take my time
floating,
twirling higher
through your delicious crevices
& between your lovely peaks
topped with granite tips,
I released
to the warm air
once more.

O Miss Pretty Bather,
your luxurious hair
& bare bottom,
I want it all!

I want to drown
with you,
continuously
in your bubble bath,
over and over,
again and again,
relish in this sinless swim,
this genuine moist-fun.

O please
Miss Pretty Bather,
keep the water running!

A whippoorwill &
some mourning doves,
the gutteral croak
of the wood stork,
chasing squirrels,
a dying cricket or two.

Who knew
the splendid call
of a hawk circling above
could be such a sweet sound,
part of the greatest symphony
ever composed
& played for us
by the master,
conducting
beautiful harmonies
from the pulpit
above.

I hung
onto
the tail of a comet
once.
Rode it throughout
the entire galaxy.
What a ride.
Hot,
long & ice.

I taste bile in my windpipe
& wipe away my tears,
crying,
'cause
I was your fall guy,
got ****** by
your pretty smile.

Memories have a tendency
to fade, the vivid details
slowly disappear
as the hands of time
spin nonstop,
wait for no one.

But some will remain
& are etched forever
on the private-centers
of the brain.

The taste of
your delicious-flower
will last until my dying days,
it stays locked inside
my immortal past,
that sadly
was truly,
never really
meant to last.

Long ago,
I remember,
we paid the lone-guard
twenty pesos apiece
to camp on
top of the temple,
to experience
something cosmic.
And after he left,
we stripped down
to our bareness
& kissed under
the milky-stars
with howlers squealing
a backdrop melody.
I lost myself that night.
Tracing your lips with my tongue,
I felt the cool jungle air
swirling around us,
you did not fight me
as I melted inside you.
I swear the jaguars
rejoiced that night,
as we had rekindled
the acts of the sacred gods.
It was more than cosmic,
more than stellar,
I felt the poles shift
our hearts.

The art of fulfillment
is extraordinary
& what surpasses,
what surpasses
the feeling of hot molasses
covering
your
firm intention,
the subtle sigh
leaving your lover's lips.

Jenkins always did whatever the **** he wanted to do.
He always went about his business
like it was his only purpose on Earth.
He never got bogged down
in gossip or idle talk,
made just to pass the time.
He didn't give a rat's ***
about who was doing what to whom
& vice versa.
Once I saw him spit a ******
on the floor
of a high dollar restaurant.
He blurted out, "Free Oyster!"
& laughed his *** off, what a dork.
Everybody looked shocked,
one patron dropped a fork,
another snickered.
Strange days indeed,
but nobody there asked him to leave,
they seemed pleased to take his money
instead & clean up the nasty mess.

I went on for several years
knowing,
obsessed with
the way your eyes
penetrated my soul,
how your scent
permeated
every fiber,
every single cell in my body
that continued to ache for you,
remembering how
you clung onto me
whispering my name
and how great
you felt there.
And you knew too,
it was only a matter of time
before you were gone.
You knew.
I know.

He, the archdeacon,
kept me a spectacle
on his merry-go-round
of splintered wood,
whipped me
into submission
every chance she got.

She was disgusted
with my ugliness, but
enlightened my soul
with her kind-acts,
she was my gypsy-lady,
my lovely Esmeralda
and I the bell-ringer
of Notre Dame,
her hunchback,
broken & shamed
& in love.

He lay exhausted under
the brilliant stars of Heaven,
searched them with
a faraway look
in his raven eyes,
hoping he would see
his lady again.

He traced his lips
with his tired-fingers,
imagining them hers.
Relishing the thought,
he burned with fire,
remembered her tender kisses,
the beating of her fervent heart,
the fragrance of her sweet skin,
the taste of her honey-breath.

Days of brutal-fighting
had depleted the legion,
many brave warriors
would not return home.
It was a time for reflection,
a chance for silent-prayer,
to pay reverence for
being spared.

As he drifted in and out
of conciousness,
he wondered if
she were tracing
her own lips
with his fingers
in her mind,
desired him still.
Good Lord,
he missed her.

Trembling,
he feared the worse,
as tears poured,
drifted over his cheeks,
he wanted home so badly,
he could taste it in his tears.

I'm steel.
Cold & hard.
Honed by the hottest-fires,
tempered with much
broken-hearted pain,
I've tasted rain.

I've traveled passion-dunes,
scaled love-mountains,
crawled in sensuous-mire,
wearing my scars like a hero,
a tireless crusader,
lonely & blue,
I'm someone who knows
about weakness.

I've traveled through outer space,
sat buckled to the seat,
daydreamed
with aliens all around.

The outside domain was a blur,
I rode supersonic steel
knifing lush countryside
between chasms
of skyscraper structures.

I tried to decipher
the language of such folk,
who seemed unfazed by my jokes.

Their gaze, the same slant,
followed my every move,
I felt like an un-caged freak,
myself an alien
in a future-world
riding bullets.

He'd stay up all night
transfixed on her beauty,
this lady of the night
& he'd fight the urge to stay,
to watch her as the sun came up.

But, he knew it would **** him if he stayed
& he just couldn't bear to take her back
with him to his crypt,
to live an eternal life
in the darkness
of cold , cold nights.

I told Snider
his bad habit
would catch up to him
someday,
but not that day.
or in that case,
not that night.
I was thinking
it would be years
down the road
before it got him.
He took a round
smack dab
in his mouth.
He sat there crumbled
without lips and teeth.
It looked like he
was just napping.
The ****,
still smoldering,
was stacked
next to him
in the dirt,
like that tower
in Pisa.
******* bad habits...

The tray is towering
with the butts
of a thousand
smashed memories,
traces of you linger,
inhaled in bliss,
rolled in my fingers,
snuggled & kissed,
then snuffed out.

They speak
a different language,
so barbaric
& yet
still alluring.

I am so attracted
to their **** pointed ears,
to the color of their alien-skin,
the far hot fashions they wear
& the way they interact,
it's tribal.

They rival all foes,
can be quick on their toes,
melt you with just one look
from their extraterrestrial eyes.

The only trouble with them
is that ****** cloaking device,
the way they constantly use it,
disappearing at will,
playing mind games,
which drive you
virtually insane.

She plays with pictured cards,
uses strange potions
& burns incensed candles.
Some say she's the devil,
but most tell her she's an angel.
The creation of confusion
is her aim,
driving men insane
with her uncanny methods
of telling the truth
& they burn
with desire,
lying.

With skies bursting madly,
we sat on the veranda
hugging our bodies,
searching each others eyes,
crying.

You sat there stoic
& with me so heroic,
we kissed to
the tune of rainfall
& teardrops.

Sadly,
though I tried,
I never did learn French,
but your English was perfect
like this memory.

Sunlight glows
in shades
of lime and frog
as time literally stands
still across the back forty.
Blankets of fallen leaves
muffle the sound
of lazy airliners
descending to the strips
a few miles away.
And the songbirds
sing below,
unfazed by visitors.

We had heard about the big steel-beasts.
For weeks, vicious rumors had spread
like wildfire across the steppes.
Nothing was safe in their path.
They left death and destruction,
thousands of deflowered
women & girls
in their wake.

Late last night,
we heard the clanking,
felt the rumbling,
the shattering of earth
outside the city skirts,
then dead quiet, nothing,
not a single sound.

Early this morning,
Svetlana stumbled-delirious,
dazed toward the center of town.
Blackened eyes & missing teeth
adorned her bruised face,
dried blood-lines faded
from the corners of her mouth.
It appeared as if her jaw was broken,
vacancy was written in her eyes.
A crimson stain on her torn skirt
marked  the cleft between her legs.
A ******* arm band
hung around her neck.
She didn't say a word.

We heard the clanking again,
felt he rumbling,
the shattering of earth
as the Tigers left our village.
And by the way Svetlana looked,
quickly realized the rumors were true.

The stillness was broken
by the hunter's victory call,
a fair warning to the prey,
now clutched in talon,
a victim to the night.

I sat on Drake's Seat
& spied the entire fleet,
including the flagship
& thought how those sailors
didn't need such a place
to view their plunder,
they had modern radar.

I always heard your pretty voice
in my mind.
You sang songs of love
above the tumult of war.
Your melody even snuffed
out the crackle
of the voices
on the radio
screaming coordinates.
You were the one I longed for
across the seas.

Apprehension & high-anxiety lies with me
in my own quiet corner of the world,
searching, forever searching
for that spark of electricity
sent on fiber optic cable,
draining, draining
me of myself,
me & I always
loving you.

I watched her disrobe from afar,
mesmerized was I
hidden amongst the papyrus
as she stood bathing
in the cool Nile crystal waters.
As beautiful as all the Heavens,
her skin glowed milk
below her burnt
cocoa ringlets.
Goddess cheekbones
graced a delicate smile
of teeth like fine jewels.
The curves of her hips
were finely shaped,
sculpted from
the prettiest Roman marble.
Beautiful acorn-*******
adorned
her delicious
apple-shaped *******.
A trace of dark wool
enveloped her flower
blossoming
between fine firm legs,
made from
the stoutest of cedar.
I stood silent,
watching in awe,
as her delicate
fingers circulated
her moist fineness.
And when she sighed
in bliss,
I released
my own satisfaction,
kissing the air &
swallowing her fragrance,
trembling
downwind
from her sweet Jasmine scent.

Your whisper
makes me weak
& here we lie,
together,
naked,
body-to-body
& surrounded by
just a thin wall
of paper.
I feel you &
me slipping.
So keep whispering Doll,
I love it when you make me weak,
tear down my stone walls.

There is still a million things to tell,
but it's always the same.
Blood,
guts,
nightmares
& political *******.
No matter how I slice it,
it will always be the same.
So I'm closing the book,
they're no more stories to tell,
no reason to spread any more horror.
And don't you worry about me,
the war is over,
I'll just die with the bad memories,
alone.

It was a beautiful evening,
milk splashed
the skies above us
& the sounds of the surf
played magical
love-music.

The air delivered
a cool breeze
& the campfire raged,
threw sparks skyward
as you pushed me
downward
onto
our wool blanket
lying on top
of crystal sands.

You held yourself above me,
holding my hands,
positioning yourself
for the perfect entry,
waiting for me to ease up
into your tender-swollenness.

I was ecstatic
when you finally
started the lovely-ritual,
caressed
my most sensitive
body part
with your own
sweet spot.

The ember-light
revealed your fine hard-points,
moving pendulous above me,
to a rythym of the gods.

And with your draped-hair
tickling me with excitement,
I exploded,
emptied myself
deep
into your own
mutual-release.

It was a beautiful evening,
we collapsed in
each other's arms,
counted the stars
& felt the warm love
flowing inside us.

I captured the morning star this morning,
it peeked over the cold horizon
& I trapped it
inside my kaleidoscope-eyes.

An icy breeze added
some enlightenment
as I turned
to watch the moon
disappear
between the sumacs.

I stood there,
naked against the sun
& could only wonder,
see you in my dreams,
thinking
about the death of winter
& the warmth
of your kisses.

Certainly it's ***** season in Afghanistan,
them folks are smokin' them tar *****.
I mean those people are trippin',
shootin' **** up like the Fourth of July,
warlord-style,
just like them drug infested gangs
in Oakland,
Detroit,
South Chicago,
St. Louis.
Even them cops don't go in blind.
IED what?
Bad mammer jammer.

Only 22,
blind & legless,
missing one hand
& half his skull
is replaced
with acrylic,
he's a real
modern marvel.
It makes me sick,
this war on terror.

He slipped into their system
& operated just under the wire,
was planted to start the revolution.
Those foolish people,
foolish
foolish people
& all their selfish ways
were clueless,
totally clueless.
But their time
was growing shorter
by the minute,
soon they
would be stung,
stung by the harvest
they sowed.

And what's eye-opening,
so Earth-shattering,
is they won't even know it.

O Darling
you know,
I like it
up close & personal,
deep,
methodical & soft kisses.

O Sweetheart,
it's great to tell you
**** things,
whisper
how good
you make me feel.

O Honey,
you know the deal,
I can't help it,
it's the way I love you,
often.

There was something
incredible
about her skin.
It actually glittered,
a luminescent glow,
twinkled like mica.
Tiny beads of light
ran down her thighs,
tracing her curves
in the headlights.
And she did not fight me,
she pushed her lace aside
and at once,
I was hiding
deep inside
another dimension
of her.
That's the way
it's done
down here
on the strip,
such sweet fun.

Countless hours we spend,
reading
between the lines hiding,
lying in lonely-beds
or sitting instead,
staring at the lit
techno-screens,
most of the night
& long into the day.

We find what remains,
is what will always be.
It will be the silence,
the loneliness that
keeps us at bay,
from outside-play,
and perhaps, maybe
from truly being.

But regardless
of despair,
we will always spill,
dribble,
scribble
our continuous
verse and rhyme,
our heartful-words,
it is our way,
the way of odists.

You stand so regal,
so very elegant,
heaven sent,
I can sniff your charms
across oceans,
feel your presence
from a million miles away
& I am held speechless
wanting to you an epic,
but I found only simplicity,
a shortness of breath.
Such is the way of true love.

I feel the electricity,
it emanates from her fingertips,
rolls off her lips,
her eyes telegraph
a sensual-side.

She jolts me into
another dimension
& I wonder.

I wonder if
I was born too early
to turn her on,
the way she does me
with her beauty.

Like me, you entice
with sensuous-words,
contriving them
in a manner
to scintillate the senses
& the effect is positive.

Following
your ****-verses,
word by word,
line by line,
makes things hard
to imagine them
any other way,
the way you like them,
like me.

Wearily
I trudge
over endless dunes,
riding this single ****
on relentless trails.
I hold close to my heart
beautiful visions
of your sparkling
crystalline-eyes.
They drive me to you.
I follow the stars above
to your gentle touch,
the blessing
you give me.
And I am thankful
for your kiss(es),
to be between
your sweet thighs,
soon.

She said she wanted to hang
on our first date,
so we stayed
over at her place.
There, she hung out
on the edge of the couch,
wore a sweatshirt
covered with pink hearts,
kept using the word "insane"
& puckering her lips.
Twirling her hair between her fingers,
I quipped about her lava lamp,
how outdated it looked.
You should have seen her face.
Everything immediately went silent,
it got eerily quiet
& she said she was sick,
that I had to go.
And I did, quick.

I see the full moon beginning to rise.
Crap.
This stuff is getting old.
I'm ruining my clothes
every thirty days.
It's getting riskier,
the people in town
are always chasing me
with torches,
shooting at me
with silver bullets.
One by one,
pretty women
are disappearing,
occasionally a small boy.
They are using hounds now.
One of these days,
they're going to bag me.

The madmen are gone now,
they've grown up,
yet still,
I will remember
their contorted faces
& what happened here.

Sadly, I know
there will be
no more late nights
playing werewolves
who've all disappeared
to other places
& somewhere I know
they are humbled
by the howling,
probably
jaded.

Gripping and clutching my pillow
in sensuous rhythm,
I pound my hips into
a mountain of crumpled sheets.

Believing in the wizardry of magic,
I imagine your own tormented sleep,
desiring me with open arms
while facing the ceiling &
humming a delicious tune.

The ground rumbles like thunder,
as supersonic streamers
break the barrier.
The sound of small arms fire
buzzsaws,
heralding the beginning of hell
& somewhere in the rubble,
covered in thick dust
are the little ones.
with their eyes stretched
the size of saucers,
peeking out in wonder,
wondering when
the grown-ups
will.

I carry scars,
blood blisters
& leather callouses
& my lower back
aches like hell,
but I do have
muscles.