great you
your mission of sharing
is greater
that’s been my mission
ever since I was born
whilst others did yawn
we all don't know much
but we pretend to be
Ah! Know all
our knowledge shared
brings each one closer
be not a miser
in self knowledge exposure
a lot out there have to learn

in life’s lessons
their fingers they burn
help them to save
the cost of a balm

the sun catchs
what the moons wish
crescent turns
and harsh pressed burns

we are more then
works turning
pedestal silhouettes

cigarette smoke
and the dull fire
seeping into shadows

slink fast the tender
night

Delicate as a butterfly,
Deadly as a viper’s sigh.

It must be simple,
To call me a dog on the street,
A villain if you are really angry.
It must be simple,
To look at me and not see me,
To listen to me and not hear me.
Or maybe it’s not so simple,
But you do it anyway.

It must be fun,
To laugh at crippled children,
Because you hate their parents.
It must be fun,
To cry falsely with perfect tears,
To laugh truly with flawless malice,
Or maybe it’s not so fun,
But you do it anyway.

street like a circumpunct

a concrete toybox

with a hatchback heartbeat

brick-orgies of houses loom over

the lawns shaved with diamonds

the rituals

the microcosm

conjoined houses breeding

dull children

with photograph senses

with monotonous syndrome

with weak bodies and clean teeth

the clocks are lazy here

II

last month I was rewarded by dead badger

head draped over curb

like a masterpiece

The True Haul of Life…

They’re hauling life about on their backs,
I can see it’s heavy invisible hard shell.
The only worry my people now lacks,
is about a non return ticket straight to hell.

Not that the rich don’t want us to have it,
they’d get rid of us commoners in a flash.
But they know they’d be well in the shit,
finding someone else to manage their stash.

nothing lesser than exotic
the simmering and the shivering
quivers aroused
all over the silken
eel like curvaceous body
serpentined
entwined
and
dipped in white wine

sweet as the rose’s liqueur
if ever you've tasted
supine oozes the fruits of love
tasty
and
luscious too
who won't relish the sword
with which slice
Oh one time lover you

Venus's eye stares above the garden
Its sullen eye blinks- then hardens
16 veils of August night
Venus shares with bird winged flight

The garden black beneath the heat
Starlight stands, as petals speak

"When will you buy another truck?"
my wife asks each time she gets inside.
Then I reply "With any luck,
this old heap will be my final ride."

She just smiles and rolls her eyes
as I sit down in the driver's side.
This back and forth has no surprise.
My truck wears miles with shambling pride.

It's paint is faded, clear coat is peeled.
My rear has worn the seat to fit.
The floor board dirt's nearly congealed.
There may be fossils beneath it.

l used to be attractive
as lovely as a flower,
l know looks fade away
with every filthy hour.

l used to drink some alcohol
quite regular, in fact;
it was pointed out to me
l didn't know how to act.

l used to be ambitious
impatient as l was,
now l've time to criticize
what everyone else does.

l used to care so deeply
when others seemed to hurt,
now others say horrible things
and make me feel like dirt.

Dressed in serviceable spotless robes
Her demeanor savant adept but muted
Anonymous
Softly moving with polished grace
Around the table
Serving the diners
Who deal with her as an afterthought
All the bowls and utensils exactly placed
With pride of touch and inner peace
Her hallmark
Perfection in everything
And grace in serving
Simple caring dignity
There are thirteen this evening
Simple food for rough hewn men
Counterpointed
With curiously gentle principles