Satan's on T.V.
I see his parties everyday
Game-hosts grinning, "Honey,
"Here's the game; we'll play"

Shaded metaphors for sex,
Lots of glitz, some tits, and cash
Burn your scruples, and your soul,
Turn them all to ash

Flashing lights and head psyches,
Commercials all too loud
Musical skits, with shaking tits
Hear the screaming of the crowd

Now look at co-host Carol,
She smirks at Kevin, all aside
Her legs are smooth and silky
As her skirt goes for a ride

He stands a little straighter,
throws his shoulders back.
"My Country Tis of Thee"
his face no longer slack.

Wounded in his mind,
he was left upon the field.
He never came home at all,
and he will never yield.

He spends his days still fighting,
for his God and country.
His wife looks after him,
she prays, "Please come back to me."

Fifteen years in Muller Town...

What day or night are you available?
You deserve me, I'm yours.

"Has anyone ever escaped?
These eternal chains, forged by weird-wired brains.
My emotions have been raped".

He can tell you, no matter what, he didn't do it,
Deny responsibility, never copping to a plea.
"You can't prove any of that shit".

Should I recall those blissful times
When we like climbing flowers entwined;
Our blossoms scented evenings air
As Love and Lust forsook our cares.

Your laugh was soft and gentle,
A butterflies wings in spring,
Dancing on the sunbeams
Enough to make me sing.

Eyes so bright they sparkled
Diamonds on moonlit snow;
Flashing hither and thither
To make my pulse race so.

We held each other gentle
Yet tight so not to break,
Though deep, our love could never last,
Different paths our lives would take.

tiny bud unfurls
blossom dips her silken face
humble elegance

Paupers of the written word
misunderstood, neglected,
the poet beats a lonely path
to tell his tales, dejected.

Ripped deep from out his tortured soul
bare thoughts wing home to roost.
On pages strewn with errors,
that hang him as a noose.

Do written words bring peace of mind?
Raise spectres of his fears?
Do they bring comfort, set him free?
Ne'er in a million years.

Fooled Again...

Warm breeze dances with cold winds
round and round they go.
Through the trees, wind whipped thin,
hear them sigh and sough.

Flutterbys and hummingbirds
sipping nectar brews,
carry smells and sexiness,
just like precious jewels.

May will gather her bouquet,
Kiss her brow, my favorite sun,
caress her skin with warmth, I say,
she'll love you when you're done.

In darkened room somnolent she lies
while high above the horned moon
cast dim shadows cross the night.

So now she sleeps.
how soft she breaths,
no movement yet, she could be dead.

But winter closes, snows thaw then flow.
Earth warms, she moves,
her time has come.

Languid, stretches limbs;
She sighs, she smiles,
another year.

She stands a tip toe a ballerina fair,
looks on her world,
bestows new life.

Her laugh is soft, it flutters
As butterfly wings in spring.
Her dark eyes wide, they sparkle
As the purest diamond ring.

She is the sweetest angel
That any man could know;
Yet deep within her ageless soul
Dark vices wrought men woe.

She loves to woo and taunt them,
To lead them on with guile,
To bring them pain and misery
Bestowed with lasvicious smile.

Her pleasure is to lure them
Bind them helpless then,
As victim snared in spider's web
Inflict pleasure close to pain.

Dew drops glisten upon
silver threads carefully intertwined.
Piece by piece, built and rebuilt,
the spider reflects on her work.

What was once a dusty door frame,
has become a work of art.
Through her tears and fears,
something beautiful arose.

Her triumph and escape,
from Hell's all encompassing gate,
finding herself within the mess,
landing safely in her new found web of life.