A Coyote's Howl
They lurk in the grass through the field on a hill
Traveling through hedges of bark & Elm
One look at the moon the coyote's howl
Pull back the covers from my brain
Shattered memories of a forest all a glow
With a fever pitched noise have viscious long hanging fangs that bite
A lone bridge that goes through the underpass in town
Wretched creatures that explode without no kind of notice
We have embraced your ways as you search for bread
The caverns on the hilltop range bring in your kind

Sometimes I swat yellowjackets down,
and chase away the occasional spider.
This represents the sum total
of my "heroism."

My darling wife,
my life companion,
you are all I have left.

And I shudder at using such possessives;
"My," and "mine"
don't really convey the connection I feel with you,
they just tell a story,
and every one has a story to tell these days.

winter and oak
brazier incense
settle bitter flakes
the crown
on the rows
Horses and Hearse
cloaked storm
shoving
yearning

all of this
in dreams
all of this
important

Moments
Kodachromed
chapbook
passage
thumbed
in time
pantomime
evenings
washed by
a blessin of
a moon
Thresholds
room illuminated
whispers
sighs
these ties
wrapped in filaments
symbolic
earned
held in precious
urn

THE RING
I would like a ruby ring
blood red
magical of soul
mirror of my heart
cradled in bright gold
a ring I can hold
without a memory
something new only for me
just for a while until the time
it slips from a ravaged hand
and remembers who I am….

she thinks she knows
but she knows not
that she does not know
I know

It hurts deep within,
the dagger is stuck
now I don't know
that she does not know
the dagger I will pull out or not

ask her if she knows,
she will smile and say
time will tell
wait for that day

but she knows
she has killed my nerves
now no more love she deserves
but knows not what will happen next

Waves break
Sun sets
Life continues

I walk the shore
amidst a mist of strangers
pilgrims
seeking....
creating our own heavens
our own hells

And as I cling to
the fragility
of a lost time and place
the setting sun burns the sea to silver
and ages grief into sorrow
.

vignette
"Toy"
shadows of the nite
dripping like thoughts
each step
from light
Milltown heels
walk

pocket warmth hands
holding
peices of a life
not time can wash
a waste to understand
Unravel the Travel
ever come clean

dirt beneath
a windowbox
filled with a bed
of white
on the edge
of the limits
the seasons of
wheat
as waves
rippling

Footprints

Walking on the beach on a mid Summer's afternoon

Through a doorway of hope we can cope
A line is being formed in the sand you understand
When you see one set of prints in the sand
Be aware that he carried you

In every human heart there lights a spark to what it is
To what we were truly waiting for lest I implore
Shattered fragments on the cements floor in darkened resin
A field of dreams sought back the vital means

The Pretend You

Part One:

Niceness Doesn’t Pay

At times being nice
Is a pain the ass
And I don’t give damn
If I’m sounding crass

People will say,
“I like your style.”
But most will do so
With a cynical smile

They think cos you’re nice
You’re easy to use
Take you for granted
Then leave when they choose

No one need know
Your nice side is dead
This way you can play
With anyone’s head