“I”, at last have reached my goal
And solved the mystery of my Soul
I’ am “That” to which I prayed
“That” to which I looked for aid
I’ am “That” which I did seek
I’ am my own mountains peak

I upon creation look….
As a page from my own book
For the “I”, the “ONE” that many make
Of substance which from “ME” I take
For all is “ME”, there is not two
Creation is “MYSELF”….all through

we drive our trucks
slip our arms
our fingers
arms inside
your robes
we are
the intrusion

looking for
the numerical
impossible

...

thank U

let us settle in the
garden of dust

..

All awards are given
do you know to whom?
those who can't believe
they will be awarded....

Wait here's 4 u Nobel

You really dream
as much as I do
but then I see
those guys coming running
to the cemetery
wait please
we have to give a Nobel to thee
people clap
I can't bear the noise
they get surprised
I rise
take my Nobel prize
and remove my disguise
the guys who gave me the prize
weren't any more wise

The smiles on painted faces be
the lies that fill the night.
The touch, the kisses and the words
an act of the slaves displayed
to bait the lust of men
who never wish to know
the pain of souls in endless rape.

and yet, there are consenting women in
the seducing dance of adultery,
who dishonor love in marriage to embrace,
the whims of their sinful hearts.
Do they believe the treachery they do
in the dark, is unknown to all
when no secrets are hidden from God?

winter like white moss
sculpts and moves
sinuos stretched
Wind Shadows made
in mystery rivers

the daylight prismic gold
shimmering with its pierced
sun stare bold and
cold
the mists cleansed
in clarity
a definition sold
through atmospheric devotion
to the detail
every shinning feather
of the dark crow
atop the pole
perch elaborate preening

a window winged phantom
slipping on the snowy surface
a jubilee sun blazes indifferent

ENCONIAM TO MY FRIENDS AT NEOPOET

Your words are the wings that
carry me far from lonely places.
and your thoughts are magic spells
that fill my lungs so I can speak again.
my heart beats to the rhythm of yours
and my Spirit soars to new heights
of hope and of courage
your love and affection are matched
by mine…and your hands are the ones
I will hold when it comes my time,

Body is her temple
out in the lonely wilderness
limited to a forest
she runs away from me
as I want to steal
and
she knows it 'tis lovely
giving her temple unto me
my love is hers only

let it in the wilderness be
I love her
as she alone is the embodiment of a temple
in a lovely young woman
a love for me

Wellington Square, and a flourish of wings sends
a shiver through water that rings in crescent pulses

This is a heart among many hearts,
that teem with the steps of the living

In streams they come pacing, purpose
in eye, hurry the grave is waiting.

The droplets fly around us, as the
crumbs fly at pigeons, those interminable
rats of the air you keep feeding

Croissant dregs, until the day you cry:
"What are these winged miracles?

that abound my head in pirouette twirls
ascending up the azure sky?"