Darkness of Light

spawn of winter
in maternal muse,
surrender

the cold
embraces frozen heart,
looking for
a way to light the dark
already there

sub-zero tears
race to stab
drifting snow,

the lake effect
dances ‘round
nothing’s worse
than the black ice
consuming you

Breath Wren

sex spoken of
in just whispers
little said
of fluid motion
of power it serves

screaming
of days filled in embrace
of those pacified
on pangs of its pleasures
temples and reigns
built and fallen
in the in between
folds of the skin
entered and left
pistols peaking

tales be told
blood running
soldiers in battle
falling under gun and blade
dodging and dropping
rarely looking up to the goings on
lords and ladies of the manner
as war rages on
pillow talk of bed fellows

Poly-Ticks

hide me in the house
keep my eyes from
seeing the truth painting
in the widows are the pictures
all I hear is
go back to sleep
stay in dream state

there will always be
proctor to protect
from foes and friends
no need to know
the evil face
that calls itself reality

deep inside is an urging
to go back where it all began
so hard to do
when the canvas
looking at so long
has been painted over
so thick
like a world in itself

what is beneath the skin
what lies beneath the crusted over lies

In Born

the bile
stirred in gut
feeling
holds a lot

all these forces
keeping the child
away from mother
afraid each will
wake the other

voices race
in circles ‘round
dancing medley of song
sung for far to long
secrets of a world
taken away
from family
erasing the promise
of ancient birth rite

Jiggle of Key

forms of fear
enlighten the strongest
of us
will they tell us
what they see
are we just the terrified child
born of a mother
grown to old and cold
to treat us as
anything

your lies
disconnect us further
from the womb
umbilical rotted away
to long ago
for memories account
we ask not for
a map to where
the apron strings once were
just for deliverance

keep us locked in a prison
with no clue
as to crimes or key
what of the sentence
confining us
sins committed by a hand
before we were even born
and here we are
answering to these actions

Reason In

And in beats
Of the heat,
As drum strokes
Chime off tolls
Of the dying
On those drying skins

In dragons breath
So much has been said
All the plastic peoples
Set before us
Sounding off such static noise
Efforts to appease
Becomes unjust guttural tease

Desert wind
Been blowing
Since the start
Of time
As the air grows
Thinner entering
With all forced to hear

Someone somewhere
Out there needs to
Be running for the future
Let us see if it all was
Was it all a dream
And if it were real
What was the reason?

Fitting

as party dissolves
questions asked

six pence
maybe a penny or two
just enough to make it through
swamp of dreary thought
what may come of
the meaning of doing it for free

malay of moment
becomes true and naked
when shucking the corn
becomes more than tossing cum
may be time intimacy
and intercourse is real
shared without reason

wrap your lips
around
four letter word
in time to try
it on for size

End of Years

cockpit flyer
twenty plus years
in attempts
to play through
game started as a boy

and in this dream reality plays through

each day
is getting longer
climbing the stairs
under power
arthritic replacement knees
a man now in a race
with Death
adding hours to his life
up in the air
controlling little
more than tin cans
pieces of artistic symmetry
every time settling in
to captain’s chair
looking down an all
he passes left below
just to get that much higher
in the day of final crash

Rain Dance

as rain dances
in public parade
of teardrop rhythm,
moods and more
soon fall
rooftops and all
uncovered-exposed,
victim to reign
beaten, battered stage
soldiers marching on high,
fighting rhythm maintains
down on depressant
each dancer shares
before exploding
into motionless silence

stall the mind
in moment of reflect,
why is it in residence,
the Devil is looking up
as man muddles on
in scattered stare of being

Mind the White

Mind the metronome,
with fear of queering up Queequeg

Pen is brought to page
as the great white whale is stabbed
harpoon bleeds in this skin

Ahab had his Hell, to each his own
epic of biblical reference
in proportion ricochet references
a pop culture prop

Everyone is swimming, shallow or deep

Popeye and peoples rally a rhythm,
motion metered lightly littered Melville
pop culture and pilgrimage filtered poetry

in the Reaping

with a dream
and a voice
that gives the world
a chance to believe
it will come true
found setting on forest floor
palms to ground
eyes to sky
outside closed
clearly open to looking in
phantom smile
all but on her face

she can feel

that is more than he would wish...

he came through
fabled forest of forever
intentions made
to make it
a shortcut
name given
to biggest mask

-he calls it love

ripping at
all the beauty
she holds inside
every acre
this fabled forest of forever
trembles
of the waves in wake
each step made
in just passing through
of shortcut stayed to long

Streets of Boston

she would dance in what holds her,
bare and subtle as baby
of mother’s womb,
floating lonely in my eye
captured teardrop.

her legs now still,
done all the dancing
she ever will...

a month gone September,
I said goodbye
when all seemed well,
who would see the night,
a burning Hell

a hit or more
like Timothy Leary,
candles float their own rhythm,
with music ghosting it’s spirit,
a way of seducing the air
eating at inner self
ultimate, intimate unconscious thoughts

brain bursts in imagination squirts
painting the walls to redefine realities.

Kitty cat whispers
through kitty cat whiskers,
prancing in what will be,
candle spread more than flitting of flame,
burning eulogy of naked sleeping beauty

a final word to end the world

Carbon on carbon,
everyone is black
from soul to skin,
forever gone,
there is no returning
from the Hell we leave burning.

At least I took the time
to say goodbye--

[ ...and so, what did the cat say to the candle? ]