Thair

you carved me with
time and persistence
being brutal and gentle
in bestowing me with
both strength and humility
you're slapped me
across the face
with stinging grains
of sand and beads of rain
exhausted me in
ravenous zephyrs of hellfire
and frozen me to my core
with screaming arctic gales
you've tickle me with
April breezes in
the warm May sun
and entertained me
with autumn dervishes
of dancing hues of leaves
you've give me breath
and have taken it away
and though I've never seen you
you are thair

His waltz

he bleeds black in
moon light full
his heart emptied
his veins spill
his soul into
the dark sea of night
he forsakes his voice
and makes his choice
to dance with those
demons he had fought
those he often had sought
never being able to choose
of his favorites
slots or sluts or booze
how could he choose
and had had his fill
until tonight
when his veins spill
his soul into the night
he grabs the shoulder
of Beelzebub to
balance his stance
for he's not quite
ready to fall
though he can
barely resist the flies
persistent call
and the dark grows
darker as the abyss
blooms before him
his step, one, two, three
one waltz too many

Heart words

it's always on the tip
of my tongue
I can almost
recall it all
and blurt it out
in an empty theater
for the audience
had dinners to
attend before I
could remember...
remember...
the lines ran
down the ditch
power-line shadows
that ebbed and
flowed with the
bus driver's foot
on the accelerator
running quietly
and swiftly along
the morning...
morning...
rays of sun
were what blinded
me and caused
me to cross the road
unknowing of the traffic
and the woman behind
the wheel behind the
hood that I landed
on and the windshield
I shattered and the
asphalt road I was
flung upon to
escape for just
a little while so I
could peek at my script
and remember...
remember...
that I take 24 to
81 to 92 to 29
to 41st to 35th
to Marion to find you
but I couldn't
and was only a
street away from
where I had left you
in the dark and cold
where my heart wanted
to say more but I
had forgotten its words
they are there though
right on the tip
of my tongue

Sabbath

the green is growing
darker in the blades
as I walk this manicure
of my backyard's span
two copper canines
chase the floating blips
in the sticky evening air
as I pass by the blush
of lilies being kissed by
moths mimicking birds
I rush the engine spinning
blades through vegetation
as dimmer grows the light
hoping to be done with deed
before tomorrow's rain
hoping to give into the idea
to have a full day of rest

The red carpet

the true despair
is believing
the red carpet
illusion has rolled
out in front
of the world
in believing
the castes are
the haves
and haven'ts
and their dice
has fallen
in believing
wealth is all
what gold will
put in your
miserable pocket
for these momentary
brief breaths
in believing
wealth is all
the time in
the world when
the clock ticks out
just the same for
the roofing man baking
in the July sun
as it does for the
retired woman under
that very same roof
in believing the goal
is to have any of this
or to hold anyone
we meet along the way
for everything
and everyone
and everywhere belongs
to it all that both
the past and future
continually fight over
while the present
blankly stares into
the mirror

As of late

the days are met
to find glory
resting within the
cages that once
housed hearts
and those cages
buried beneath
stones ever
reaching for
eternity
yet they too
must succumb
must surrender
to the audacious
advances of
inevitability
never will that
hand be slapped
away
never to escape
that creeping
presence
that slight of
hand played
out on daily
mirrors before
careless eyes
the days are met
not to question
whom has
created the dust
but rather
whom was the
dust created from

From night

toes glide through
grass wet with dew
perspiring after the
flight of night with
the rising of dawn

something was left
in the shadow of dark
something remains
within the unspoken
faces of the stars
and the silent tongue
of the blind lunar eye

something was given
to the revelry in
nocturnal mockery
of the given reality
under warm solar rays

something was lost
to the oblivion found
in late stupors sipped
from chalices of
porcelain moon flowers

something lingers
within the very dew
caressing bare toes
that glide quietly
through the green grass
carrying their owner
out of concealed hope
and into revealed regret

Flora's whores

iridescent hues
drip in the evening sun
spilling over
soft gem laden cups
who serenade
feminine stripes
and sails of stained glass
their sweet words
those of sirens
they learned long ago
in almost every tongue
of almost every
pair of lips

iridescent hues
swirling in stirring
breath of zephyrs
once remembered
on burning pavement
underfoot
bare skin meeting
the caress of solar want
of delicate breezes lost
to the haughty wind
of silken dress
engulfing thirsty appetites
to suckle those
who stop to visit
to stay awhile
within the evening sun