This is my friend Pearly ... He hangs out here next to where i sleep. but he doesn't get much sun, so today ... I took him out .. He was quite delighted .. i told him of it ... but he said "only for a bit and nodded ... then he said I'm Pearly the bear I like my sleep " ... ...

The next day Pearly wasnt in his cozy spot. i didnt think much of it till i saw a deep well with a hook. i walk'd up touched the rope .. pricky fuzzies.. Pearly what have you got going on here ? i pulled him up.. " its ***** down there". .. ...... he said "Hunting .. ... . Here you are" ................ then he handed me a bow .. and said "catch me a thick buck i can dig my teeth in"  (His thick arm raised up) ........................... a long pause happened then he said ....... but take its life swiftly. I can't bare the feeling of pain.... then moments later he stopped me ... actually bring me a bed of flower peddles i must return to my lifes work ..

The following morning i came in whistling with a basket of luscious velvet smelling flowers ... finding Pearly sprawled out breathing amost natural way .. quite pleasant listening to breathing man connected to his creature self .. .........Pearly hello pearly good morn ....... .. greetings ....... then he said " I'll have nothing ..... .... then i said no bakey eggies? .. he didnt move . how about a short trip look around? .... . .. no reaction............... how bout a warm bath? .. .... nothing. ..... just him there staring at nothing ........... i could sit there and watch him stare at nothing for hours .. ... i sighed oh well i catch you later .. ..

Closely attending,
Unclouded attention to subtle changes,
Different today,
I must notice,
Or be left out of,
Something which has changed,
Amost imperceptible,
As it should be,
Admired from up close,
Held and embraced,
I drag my fingers through your hair,
And wrap my arms around you,
Holding tightly,
Your lips I kiss,
Pulling this body of mine,
Into you,
My skin,
Touching and teasing your outward soul,
Investigating offers,
Reaching deeply,
Into you,
Following blindly,
Your direction and subtle gestures,
To the finality of end.

If I never smoked ****
If I never took a sip of sweet whiskey
If I never broke the law
If I never broke as many hearts
Due to the fear of being broken further
If I never loved so freely
Maybe I would be almost perfect

If I wasn't the man I am
If I was the man I dreamed of being
If I was her beloved blessing
If I wasn't such a ******* monster
If I wasn't so helpless
Maybe I would be almost perfect

I guess I'm always meant to be imperfect
Always wanting to be almost perfect
Running from the whatever I am

The Mudlark

1869
The little boy was hungry.
London was not a benevolent place
for the children of the unwashed masses.
The great Queen Victoria was in permanent mourning.
Grief encapsulated her heart at the loss of her soulmate
Her consort her husband and father of her nine children.
Her beloved Albert.

Hunger and cold were striking the young boy
He was an orphan he knew he was seven
but was not sure of any birthdates.
They had found him wrapped in an old coat
On the orphanage steps.
At seven he ran away from the cruelty of the place.
And foraged in the muddy shores of the Thames river.
Finding bric a brac  a medal a coin a piece of jewelry.
In the thick mud that ****** his bare feet deep into it.

He was having a bad day nothing to sell there would be no food
Or a bed he would sleep in the park under the bushes
Until the policeman found him.he would run away
So that he could not be sent to the workhouse.
They made small boys go inside the chimneys
Of great houses to clean off the soot.

Then a sliver of light from an amost hidden moon
It glinted in the mud he rushed over and picked it up.
It was a beautiful cameo broach gold encrusted ivory
A lovely woman was depicted in it.

In his young life he had never seen anything as lovely.
He showed it to the man who buys the findings of the mudlarks
As the boys were known.
He said it is the likeness of queen Victoria
She is the mother of all the British Empire.
He said is she my mother too?
She is everybody’s mother young lad.
He refused to sell the cameo broach.
No it is of my mother he said.

A week later at Buckingham palace.
A great event was held.
He found a wide gap in the railings.
To allow his thin frail body through.
In the bushes he could hear the throng of celebration.
Creeping around he found a courtyard.
A great lady was sat alone on a bench.
She was weeping.
He moved to her she was older but unmistakably
it was the lady on the broach.

She was alarmed as she saw the young said.
Go away I shall call the guards you ruffian.
But I wish you no harm ma'am he said softly.
I found your broach and I want to return it to you.
In the tiny hand he offered the item to her.
She picked it up from him.

This was given to me by my dear Albert.
I lost it overboard in the river Thames fifteen years ago.

I found it in the mud mother.
Mother she asked quizzically.
I was told you are the mother of all the children in your empire.
And I do not have a mother I am an orphan.
The old lady felt tears flowing in her eyes.
Yes I am your mother dear.
The guards saw him and grabbed him
You will get a beating for this young lad
A good beating.
The lady stood up no one shall lay a hand on this boy.
He has brought me a signal my beloved Albert.
It is time for me to return To my duties
And look after the millions of children in my empire.
And true to her word
she discarded her deep depression and widows weaves.
To take her empire to its mst  glorious days.

The young boy was given a job in the palace
And educated to become a fine gentleman
A lawyer who advocated for the poor and lost
In London’s streets.

we sit on the back deck in darkness. amost..... there is a rough circle of glowing embers ........from the mosquito coils and then..... two glowing cat's eyes. we.... my husband and i .....both have the scent.... of...... aeroguard... sprayed heavily on our skin. as we sit in oppressive heat...... ...waiting for the ....gasp... of a cooling.. breeze to come..... the air so moist and warm has brought forth..... ....the frogs ....and we hear......    the .....deep... throated call of the... tree frogs competing...... with the pobblebonk's... ...unique sound. ...even the cicadas..... ....have succumbed to the muggy air... and have ........gone quiet. .....all we hear in the dark is the frogs...... ...reeebert.. and ....pobbblebbBONK... amphibian lothario's crooning away..... ....as we wait for that gasp of cooling air...

reebert............



..... ...    . .pobbble........BONK
pobble BONK
...REEBERT. REeBeRT...RRREEBERT.

The world is gray.
She can be cold,
Harsh, indifferent.
She will hurt you
In more ways than
You could possibly
Ever imagine.
She will tear you down
When you're high.
She will bury you
When you're down.
She will let you freeze
Starve and waste away.

In the end,
The world will hold
The smoking gun
As she fires the
Bullet into your brain.

The beauty of it all
Is that none of it
Matters. Period.
When the world is harsh,
You can be happy.
When the world is mad,
You can have peace
When the world is grim,
You can be hopeful

Becuase
Before it's all over
You will see little
Miracles made daily.
You will see challenges
Being constantly overcome.
You will meet wonderful people.
And with them, you'll create
The amost amzing magics.

The beauty of it all
Is that we can always
See beauty where it's
Hard to find.

It was more than a lifetime ago,
I was just 17 back then
across the distant faded years.
Amost 50 years to be exact.

The jungle is forgiving
no matter how the war had torn it
and poisoned it,
with agent Orange
fertilized it
with the blood of so many young men.
It recovered as resilient
as a spring in the hardware store
resuming its original shape
as though nothing had ever been there.

I am an old man now
far from the blush of my youth spent here
but I need to be here before my time is passed.
I could feel it calling me in the nightbirds song.
In the summer rainstorms.
And mostly when the thunder cracked the air.

I find the clearing where it happened
And close my eyes almost in prayer.

And I know I canfeel them
here again with me,
all of them.

We are all so young,so handsome
so full of life and possibilities.
We are passing round  a doobie
I take a long deep drag of the ****
my head calms down.
I see my girl my mother and sister.
But they are a lifetime removed.

A feeling for my buddies overtakes me
perhaps it was the marijuana
maybe it's just plain love,
Yes, I think it was love.

I shout, I love you man
to my best buddy Joe.
He shouts back
not as much as I love you man,

Soldiers get closer than wives
and girlfriends
we touch where it counts
where all the chips fall.
Where blood spills
And promises are kept.
It's real love
not that  ****** holywood crap.

I keep my eyes closed
I feel Joe close by me.
I know now
why I made this journey .
Why I was here
pulling the scabs of old wounds
letting them bleed again.

I see the tracer lights
of the gunfire in the clearing.
I see Joe fall mortally  wounded.
guys were dying all around me.
They were not calling for god
they cried like children
Their last cry for their mother..

I hold Joe in my my arms
He is dying.
His blood soaks my shirt.
Tears fall from my young eye's.
It's a vision
that is etched into my soul.
his last words are
I love you man.

I open my eyes
It now again the noise
has stopped in my head.
The clearing is. ghostly silent
except for the ceasless
chirping of the jungle.

My mouth whispers softly.
Capturing all that was left of me.
Not as much as I love you man.