Sunday, April 23, 2017

Creaks on the green

his knees creak in stooping
bones grind in their joints
mimicking his friend's arms
that groan overhead
in the lively April breeze
he remembers when the boughs
were mere whips when
he sank their roots into the earth
their size a reminder he
hasn't much longer to stay
on this side of the soil
sweaty brows sting in
the afternoon sun
as he toils on the green

blooms have come and gone
as the many winters
have stripped them away
yet some have overgrown
in his small dominion
some may call a backyard
loss is the constant
he has gained from
having his life so long
the dandelions and dog shit
keep him busy as
he toils on the green

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Kiss of tulips

the trumpets sound
an enigmatic herald
though Demeter rejoices
of her daughter's return
her children have risen
with different colored 
silks tied in their hair
twas a royal hue
they once waved in
the April glint and glow
but in this rain soaked
early morning hour
they awake in the
stains of battlefields
they stand tall in the
light from brothels
they blush in the 
rouge of maiden cheeks
from deep within
their mother's heart
they have donned the
vibrant rust of the
Earth's molten iron core

Saturday, April 15, 2017


the rot waits
and waited too long
the dismal hangs above
a sky whose cobwebs
haven't been dusted
the leaves loiter
something the worms
have turned their
noses up to
the corpse remains
a stain unmoved
from the fibers of time
tissues overlooked
by beetles and young flies
fluids without flow
for the frost and thaw
and erosion of their banks
an ignorance of passing
an arrogance to linger

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Knock knock

they long to speak
in fact that's all they do
or rather scream
into hollow ears
that miss the train
to wherever they
plan on taking you
there's times when
for random spontaneity
a whisper is heard
a word resounds
in the audible cavern
a vibration on the skin
was it just the wind
they catch you there
in a sudden second
a moment removed
from the rest of your life
to shake your soul
to feel their cold
to crack open your shell
to know their hell
and for that moment
that word is greater
than anything you realized
could have ever been
and you remember
that outside your door
there's so much more

Tuesday, April 4, 2017


the clawing tree
snagged the man-made cloud
in one of its lofty snares
as it sits on the sunny
southern slope of the hill
its shadows are its roots
black lines tracing through
the greening blades of grass
they are slithering serpents
under the wind's reigns
the inorganic rustling
of the man-made cloud
mimics the absent leaves
the tree knew before winter
those leaves that blew
and floated and fell
tossed and torn and dined
upon by the warming soil
and unseen meandering roots
those leaves the litter
of the thoughtless trees
that catch the litter of these

Sunday, March 26, 2017


only to pick at
the vacancy of space
the lingering void
that claims part of me
only to examine
to put under scalpel
something lacking
a missing piece
that might have
the answer for it all
and if I only had
whatever it is 
that appears missing
that void we all
yearn to fill
so we are then full
complete and with
not being without
yet being is here and now
exactly how I am
with the without
the missing piece isn't
because it never was
not answering it all 
as there is no question
there's no void 
for there is nothing
and there never needs to be
anything more 

Friday, March 24, 2017

Lying wine

the lies have been trampled on
those swollen, juicy deceptions
you've squished under your dance
your filthy feet that have carried
you through the dry dusty fields
pound all the liquid from your lies
and into the wooden tub you collect
the nauseating nectar pouring out
under the weight of your strutting
and those luscious lies sit awhile
all those words from your tongue
drool into the pool under your feet
and sit and bubble and ferment
how you make what you've said
taste ever sweeter as time lapses
how intoxicating the devious drink
how sweet the motion of your lips
the recitation of your insincere script
fills my glass time and time again
to meet the laughter of disbelief
the giggles to hide wounded tears
and to douse any hostile fires
this wine of lies you shower me with
for as long as you keep me full
under the guise of fermented lies
you think I'll forever of this drink
and be tied to your fruit of the vine
never realizing that one lurid eve
I've slit your vine and spilled your wine

March eves

would I get lost 
in all the wanted ways
the envious grays
of languished March eves
they teeter on that ledge
where all has been called
every guest has received
their perfect paper invitation
and yet all waits
the weather hesitates
to step through the door
into the biding hall
the budding banquet sits
for the floral feast to commence
a nether world of dreams swirls
in the anticipation of the wake
the wax continues to drip
the nectar longing for a sip
amidst the dreary pollution
of languished March eves

Wednesday, March 22, 2017


daring to raise their heads
as a masked rabbit may hold a blade to their necks
those below rise again
from their solemn soiled dwellings during winter's spell
a humble rise from a low curtsy
to raise their faces and praise the gold that has called them forth
these children are reflections
the great and tiny and many mimickers of their solar lord
earth only holds their feet
or else they would take flight as soon their children will
off into the robin egg sphere
with the silky spider spindles that weave the cotton of clouds
into the crystal showers
that don the necks of those that have risen again

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Vial trial

 have you found my vein
on which to quench your thirst
deliver your fumes
and I'll be your dizzy tazzle
dancing to your rhythm
beating in my brain

I can't remember the words
to banish you
my mouth's too dry
to speak them
so I'll swallow you again
and be your dizzy tazzle
staring at the wall

your tears have taken me
into the wilds beyond
and I have sank off the coast
where I left my skin
and I sink even more
as you force your way in
make me your dizzy tazzle
and all of mine is yours

your cough is my breath
your tears my blood
and if you sliced me open
I'd pool your reflection
whisper that I'm your dizzy tazzle
'cause my ears are closing their doors
and the light is growing dim