Such back pressure
I have
at 3000 feet
down,
a real pressure cooker
I am
shooting my rig,
spreading wealth
to the drillers
of rich Texas tea.

Take me Miss Wolf,
take me anytime you want me,
you know ****** well I won’t,
I can’t fight you,
it’s our calling,
ordained before time began,
you & me can’t stop it.
The howling we make
shakes the ground
we kneel on,
engaged in
wolf-style together.

The steam
on your mirror
makes it
difficult to land,
to get
a great vantage point,
to rest
my weary wings.

So I guess,
I can sit down
on your slick-sill
to hear,
to watch
the beauty of you,
you coming alive,
caressing yourself
alone,
singing
in your hot shower.

Rendered for dead
and lying flat-lined,
I read the words
you wrote.

Penned so sweetly,
they spilled
straight from your
tender bleeding-heart,
and made me blip.

There was a time when we wanted to change the world,
my mates & me, we were star struck
bright-eyed dreamer-lovers,
we never took no for an answer.

But now Ronnie & Greg are gone,
we lost Ross somewhere in the Midwest,
Teri died in the bottle, Cassie too.

I heard the IRA is still hiring recruits, but
I’m not sure how much fight I’ve got left,
it seems it evaporated with Louise.
The world has definitely changed.

I still converse with some of my old army buddies.
All of us are recovering
from violent foreign service.
We've lost some too.
We heard Jeff B. hung himself,
had a wife and three kids.
Who knew
when we got back
to the world,
sad **** like this would still happen?
Tom M's still ****** about it
& when he reads the crap
about ISIS in the morning papers,
he gets infuriated,
especially when another innocent head gets chopped off
& he fumes through pursed lips,
"Let's have some real fun,
let's make some glass beads
out under the desert sun,
let's nuke 'em all!"

There was a time,
once, when the world
was beautiful,
everything
was in harmony.

Kisses tasted
like butterscotch candies
& your eyes danced
the Paso doble,
you were soooo dandy.

Remember my
sweet inner-thigh-touches,
the ones that glided
as if we were on silk
& we were
on top of the finest,
it withstood our fiery tempests.

But our universe crumbled,
the way it always does,
when trust is shattered
by the lies
we keep inside
& we try so hard
from living.

The world was beautiful,
once.

Neon flickered ghostlike
with honks desperate below,
someone shouted down the hall.
Her cigarette smoldered
rancid smoke,
swirling up into
a fan spinning
lifelessly.

We lied,
naked in rough splendor,
side-by-side,
her leg cracked high
in a v,
my hand rested
on her sweaty thigh,
we giggled breathlessly,
inhaled guilty-pleasures,
our exquisite rumbling
was beautiful,
her and me.

I wanted to crawl
into her
again
&
again
&
again.

And if I could have,
I would've stayed
in that seedy room,
forever
on the
wrong side of this desolate,
unforgiving town.

Fingers crossed...

I slipped both inside
& the visual,
so beautiful & sacred,
stem & flower exposed,
our magic fingers intertwined,
feverishly
found mutual Heaven.

We can write about it
'till we're blue in the face,
suffocate ourselves
clutching empty pillows.

We can cry about it
'till our tear ducts run dry,
wallow in the mire,
say we're having no fun,
infused with our ethanol.

But make no mistake,
it doesn't matter what drastic measures we take,
they ain't never coming back.

So it's best,
we hold onto our smiles
& save the pleasant memories.

You said you were a loner
& they called you *******,
yet you
had the demeanor
of somebody
much older.

Bold & meaner than a viper,
your long hair flowed
between nice
perky high-points,
& you floated
on the raunchy-stage
like an angel,
wore a thong
& gyrated
for dollars.

It didn't take
a love-scholar
to see
the broken-heart-message
burning in
your lovely sad-eyes.

And,
I wished
I could have
saved the world
that night,
but you were working
on them soldier-boys,
wrestling their whole
monthly paychecks
from their stupid
drunken fingers.

Yes, your memory lingers
& I think often of you,
wondering
about your millions
& if you're still alone.

People need a war
always
it seems
to prove who is right.

And when they come back,
those young ghosts
missing body parts,
they act as if they
are immune
to their acts.

Those big thinkers,
those brilliant strategists,
hiding behind institutions
they call freedom,
cannot possibly see
these long lines of people,
trained killers,
standing for post traumatic treatments,
some morsel of comfort,
not to be found
in fairytale endings
or inside four walls.
This is for real.

I think I was born crazy,
'cause things have always
looked different to me,
I've never been able to understand it.
When I tried to explain my feelings,
people would look at me bewildered,
shake their heads in astonishment
& say I was like that character
in that Zevon-song,
the one who bit the usherette's leg
in the dark,
ruined the *** roast,
killed his girlfriend
& made a cage
out of her bones.

Well, I'm really not that excitable,
no way I'd do those things,
I don't feel that way.

Like I said,
I think I'm crazy
& see just see things differently.

Or maybe,
I just see things differently
& I'm not crazy.

Perhaps,
I'm just like you,
& that's just a song.

And after reading you,
that may be it,
I'm not an excitable boy,
they had me all wrong.

Tune into my wavelength,
listen to the stars,
tap your keys with your heart,
I can hear your voice
over the din.

I read about time & chance,
it happens to all of us,
there's no reason
to wallow in the mire,
to linger alone.

Let your fingers guide you,
I am listening to
the sounds you make
in the silence of space,
where supposedly
nobody listens.
They lied about desire too.

He spoke in French tongue
A king of the romantics
Like any other lover

They're everywhere these days
& nights,
I’ve seen them
in the coffee shops,
at the grocery, reading
down at library,
even hanging out on the pier with the rats.

They’re constantly watching,
waiting & moving
in and out
of the shadows,
in broad daylight,
dying,
fighting for you.

They are the new age bloodsuckers,
so beautiful, so handsome,
with their lily-white smiles
& million dollars tastes,
stealing your soul,
taking you down
to perdition.

They're everywhere these days,
some are masterpieces,
some experimental,
explosively colorful
& others
black & blue
& various shades of green.
Obscene & serene,
animalistic & geometric,
angels & devils,
flowers & peace power.
Stories of pain of of love,
sweet & nasty,
in your face and discreet,
they're everywhere these days.

Even the beetles
know
how to roll dung
uphill
to make a living.
I can't believe
those lazy mofos
hanging out
to collect our spoils,
with us toiling daily,
spilling more dough,
into the coffers
for easy handouts.
They're lazier
than ****-beetles.

Human bodies are soft tissue
meant to be ravished
by love,
covered with soft kisses,
(or) not to be
disfigured
by hate
& jagged shrapnel.

We always wait for some
semblance of change,
rotating them in and out
of their ivory towers
in fixed elections,
not meant for the masses,
this thing we crave,
this desire to clutch
it with our wrtetched hands,
working them to the bone,
feeding their technological machines
under this ruthless guise,
the advancement of humankind.
How long will we wait,
working twenty-four seven,
some three jobs
for peace?
Pray tell
while we wait pilgrims,
wait for the happy-Hobbits
to reach Isengard?
That might take forever...
and we,
We the People,
haven't got that much time left...

The outer world is trembling,
boys are dreaming here,
you cannot hear their voices.
Metal clanking,
those fireballs &
tracer rounds
cannot touch them
tonight.
Not in this state.

So voracious,
very prolific,
with seemingly
endless appetites.
Most waiting their turn,
but not the Woodpeckers
nor those Jays fighting,
but the Finches
and Doves,
those mighty Wrens
are splendid,
testimonies
to etiquette.

He walked on razors
in the bowels of Hell,
lived through traumas
best kept unsaid,
they were bone-chilling.
It was the memory of her eyes
that burned in his mind
that kept him alive.

They seared love into his retinas
& he could see the light
in all kinds of darkness.

When you see
eyes like that,
it will be a feeling you cannot explain,
but you'll know it
deep inside your bleeding heart.
They say romance overcomes all dangers,
especially if it's real.

You gotta believe that's true...

It was always weird,
going from smoking & joking,
zero miles-per-hour,
to destructive behaviors,
near supersonic.

The role players
became real
& the blood flew,
covered our surroundings
with entrails.

And we were good,
so much better than them
& they weren't mannequins,
but just as lifeless.

It's weird to witness
your friends killing strangers,
insurgents,
blowing **** up,
then watch them return
to another zone,
a place we call home.

Tell me if you like it done this way,
that's right,
hold it there,
slow sweetheart,
slow, there you go,
oh oh yes,
you have me now,
go slow sweet baby,
wait girl eeeeeasy,
ooooooh that's it,
you're so wet,
that feels awesome,
I mean really awesome,
oooooh what you do to me,
move a little faster,
that's right,
you are so nice,
lean back,
I want to see you
faster please,
let it go,
go go,
sweet baby,
faster,
give it to me,
faster faster,
I'm close darling,
getting closer,
take me there,
take me with you,
you are sooooo nice,
do it,
do it now,
yes,
yes,
yes
I'm coming,
Oooooooooo,
take me,
oh you have me,
gosh that's sweet,
you are beautiful,
I want you,
kiss me darling,
I think I love you.....
oh your precious lips....
You're so tasty,
no I don't think,
I know I love you....
do you love me too?

Before all the groundpounders
rotated out,
Fort Carson rocked
once
& when they returned,
their numbers depleted,
things just never
seemed the same
again.
They still don't.

Of course there's
always
the other side
of the things
we so adore.

O My Sweet Honey,
knows just what to do,
how to pleasure me
even more.

I stand tall
straight above her,
regal & rigid.

And in our naked-splendor,
she kneels in mock-reverence,
looking up bright-eyed,
I see her gorgeous tail.
It takes my breath away,
playing a god like this.

Her firm-warm magnificent-grip
begins a sensual-rhythm
as she engulfs my tip
with her raw-moistness.

Her flick of wondrous-tongue,
so gentle, so kind,
reveals to me
her true beauty,
her inner
sensual-tenderness.

O My Dear Lady,
I do crave,
this dreamy-state
she takes me to,
if she only knew.

O My Dear Love,
she is indeed
an angel from above,
her fine-motions
do save me
from any sheer folly.
I want her, I need her,
I will seed her with
my almighty love.

With heightened friction
& such lovely lips,
she takes me to nirvana.

My knees grow weak as
I grip her thick-hair,
stare lovingly
into her pretty-face
causing such hot-commotion.

And in my heated-fervor,
I shoot & shoot & shoot
do flow
my sticky-potion deep
into her wanton parted-lips,
I adorn her loveliness
with my gladness.

Having reached
our place of fiery-ecstasy,
she stands to kiss me,
softly whispers,
"Baby do you want me
to do it some more?"

And why of course,
she knows my answer.
I love to romance her,
'cause her interest in me,
all of me,
unconditionally,
is the reason
she's the one I so adore
& this stellar-act,
just one more hot-reason,
I want her so much more!

Don’t look at me that way you creep.
You’re never going to have me.
Don’t give me what you got.
I’m never going to beg for it.
I can't do that tantric move.
Don’t put your tongue there.
I hate you for doing this to me.
Let’s just be friends.
******* lover.

Think about re-entry,
holding that stick steady,
feeling your bottom heating up,
mad violent spinning
& hearing gyroscope-warning-noises.

Think about your daily thoughts,
your crazy-fears,
the kinds that feel like
your losing control
on re-entry,
not.

When you think
you are losing your mind,
think again.
I bet
you'll find
it's still there
in your head.

I know you better
than most,
I feel your need
at the molecular level.
Transfuse me Darling.
Make my blood
your drink.
Think free radical.

This street I am on
seems to be the same old story,
winding in one direction
under the same stars
& I feel the magic
of you
& I wonder,
I wonder if
your sweet candy
comes in smaller boxes.

I can think of a million
places I'd rather be.
Lying on crystal sands
soaking up rays,
paying entry fees
to a Pirates game,
hugging you tightly,
or just chillin'
like a villain
listenin' to rock tunes.

And I can honestly tell you,
hidin' in camo,
lock and loaded
above the tree line
in a foxhole
ain't one of
them million places.

I want to bounce
off my reflection
in her gorgeous eyes,
hold her like a magnet
& cry Sweet Jesus
as we dream together
in parallel universes.

Pink marmalade
smeared all over my face,
traces of pistachio ice cream
on my lips,
chocolate icing on my fingers
& Tupelo honey on my toes.
Are there any dreamers
still around,
thinking of leftovers,
sweet tasty leftovers.

I captured your musk
between my fingers,
licked them like a baby
all throughout the day.
People must have
thought I was juvenile
******* my digits,
but I am no child,
I’m just happy & satisfied
to be thinking of you
in my mouth.

O Sweetheart,
I would brave
a thousand oceans,
weather the
fiercest storms
& summit stone-age ice,
just to be
with you.

O Darling,
I am warm to the touch
& lie here alone,
thinking,
thinking of love
& you lying there,
surrounded
by your soft
pretty hair,
so nice.

O Dear Lady
my passion,
if you,
if you only knew.

I remember them well,
droves of street-urchins
in every little ville,
battling it out
with water bazookas
filled with **** water,
squirting the hell
out of each other,
staining holey shirts,
for a smidgeon of joy.

There's a primordial fragrance haunting me.
The first time I smelled it,
engaging in intimacy,
it became imbedded in the far recesses of my mind,
in a deep nerve center
& it never goes away.

I smell it while asleep,
in my perpetual dreams,
in the raging wind & the stillest of calm,
at the crystal-sand beach,
in the mystical forest
& on the highest mountaintops.

I smell it in my sweet memories,
on my fingers
& I love it.
I never want it to stop,
this beautiful haunting.

Pictures of dead people I know
are smiling and are so full of life
hanging on my wall
reminding me
to seize this day,
because it's not cliche,
and it won't come again.

Traffic is really not such a bad thing.
It gives me a chance to think,
to practice chants,
to introspect about anger
& see how stupid people look
when they express it.

Imagine yelling & giving somebody
the *******
because you missed a light,
might be 10 minutes late to dinner.
This guy better get off my tail.

Om namo
guru dev
namo!

Om namo
guru dev
namo!

On namo
guru dev
namo!

I feel better now.....

I could use big words
& configure them
in complex stanzas
to build a certain feeling
or write brilliant rhyme
to describe how
I feel about you.

As a matter-of-fact,
elaborate subjective-schemes
contrived in intricate-verse
might move you or
explain my raw emotion,
but it's really not rocket poetry,
it's quite plain and simple,
just to pen, "I Love You"
at the end of this
little piece of work.

I Love You.

Go ahead pilgrim,
go ahead,
make love
to the horse
I rode in on.
You will like the way she bucks,
how her stained saddle rides,
the feel of her flesh
against your taut thighs.

I will never forget
our crossing near El Paso.
Or the time
she reared up
in Amarillo.
Tucson sure fascinated
them bandits
chasing us
for gold.

We rode like demons
constantly
through the desert,
tracing
the tail of the moon
on petroglyphs.

And she knows,
she knows deep inside
her wholesome *****,
she will never forget,
she will never forget
her lonesome rider.

This wearied lonesome rider
has finally,
has finally come home.

The jade dragon
watches over
the running
hot cascade
under my fat Buddha,
who shows his heart.
Split malachite
carries the offering.
It's a steamy sanctuary,
this place I rest.

I carry
your memory
everywhere I go.
It hangs
inside my soul,
seems stuck there
permanantly.

For your beauty
will never die.
Like a thistle,
it clings
to my heart
forever.

He started my addiction,
this love of life,
my obssessive-compulsive
attraction for all things nature
& our miserable
human existence.

So here's my shout out
to Mister David,
thanks big guy,
I'm drowning
& all I can say to you
is **** the pond.

You played yourself
'till I was red in the face
& those visions of you,
those cobwebs that you made,
tiny glistening strings,
linger still,
traces here,
in my wanton mind.

So I get hypnotized
by them tv commercials.
You know the ones,
the ones that look
like you're sitting
on a sunny beach
in the subtropics
with some cute beautiful babe
wearing a white French-cut bathing suit
sitting right next to you
on a straw beach lounge chair.
There's a bucket of cold ones
with two long-necked glass bottles
full of sudsy golden liquid
and some squeezed limes lying nearby.
Like that ****'s ever going to happen.
Jesus, why do they have
to f*ck with us like that?
Those greedy corporate-types!