Fretted mental strangulation
For transgression never done
Continued contemplation
Of calibrated constraint into the sun
Tingling nerve endings simply wither in the bright
The cortex cannot receive them all, accordingly
Something is not quite right…
The pain has become hollow
Yet I am never alone,
I hurt to see the light of day
I lust for the burning tone
There is no greater sensation
Then that resembling death
Quickened is the flow of a heart that never beats
Forever walking the softest nights with lightened steps
Until the final breath of life is eternally kept…
Pleasured cerebral release
Most assured indiscretions
No more pondering a rather
Unbalanced nightly ingestion

I ride around my small little town..
I see myself riding my bike down those streets and sidewalks..
Memories run back to me on this little drive of mine..
Seems so very long ago..
Playing football at the park..
Racing down those hills..

I drive around my small little town..
Things have changed..
Even the days themselves..
Sometimes the nights look like they did when I was young..
I get a glimspe of magic from a star..
Summer loves fade..

I ride around my small little town..
My memories sing to me ..
To remember is a gift..
A gift you can always give yourself..
And you will never be disappointed..
So go take a ride..

Two buds of garlic
Ginger in tea
Can't do the trick
Can't produce poetry.

Can spare you a sneeze
I'm done with too many
When blows the breeze
When it's rainy.

Where springs the fountain
Flowing ceaseless thru nose
Once sneeze sneeze again
Don't feel so morose.

It's the day to be dumb
Better if you resign
When nose is red numb
Can't pen a one line.

Through sun and the rain
It's time tested old
Once sneeze sneeze again
Lo no remedy for cold.

Gingered tea cup
Can't **** the enemy
It's time to wrap up
Close the shop for poetry.

I think it was the Greeks
who believed man and woman
were once one being
so the gods split them
fearing our power,
to forever seek our other half.


its a beautiful notion.

What's real anymore,
what hasn't been altered,
things too good to be true,
not as bad as they seem?

Living in dreamy-states
circadian & matrix-like,
we get an inkling
there's got to be more
than just these shards of reality
we create.

And in our search for clarity,
we etch each others hearts
with our words.