On the phone overheard
his mothers voice say "love"
Why was he aroused?

Somewhere in this growing pain
Grows life,
Skin of anguish thin across
Junctures caught between
Lust and joy
In simple pleasure
And heartbeats shared
With panting breath
And growing heat

Somewhere in this madness
Lives calm,
Pooling deep inside
The constant craze of unstopped living
In moments drawn
Out into stillness
By knowing look
And secret smile

(The flesh like film). he washes the stop baths,
the fixture on elements desired.

But the radiation has crept in, A web of eyes upon
the house stolen.

The anger seeped in like roots of a tree,
atop a chimney lain seed.

Esker. March 12 2013.

A very happy 59th Birthday friend, Piscean today

Born on 11 March
of the year 1954 of our Lord,
gives the total number of 24 =six,
to friend Stan,
who is on this site our poetic man….

God bless you with subtler poetry
as those who have a Venus-ion number,
create lovely history,
no not mystery
but with all sincerity poetry
which is a unique Stanly creativity.

More later, as many more moons come your way,
don't forget to count the blue ones friend you may
and must longer stay

Sixty three times I have seen
deep winter fade to ides of March
leaving behind hints of green
in forests among the oaks and larch.

And I have planted many trees
now grown tall and wide for shade
so large they hardly show light breeze.
I've made young woods of open glades.

For three score and then three springs
wild lands have bloomed before my eyes
plum trees, briers and other things
beneath the deep blue southern skies.

I close my eyes and there floats across
a dream of death
I long for refreshment of limbs
stretched and rested
like a childhood cuddle

I close my mouth and there wafts above
a smell of decay
I ache for the pungent return
of savoury delicacies
to tingle on taste buds

Now all is open to me
I feel alive and see
all in my eye
It burns with a knowing rage
and I taste contempt
A bitterness
too bleak to bite.

SMILELY FACES
I send my thoughts
in smiley-faces
hearts and roses
and butterfly wings.
you see
my voice doesn’t sing
the way it did before
and the words don’t come
so easily

My art has lost its soul
I don’t see myself
anymore

Rob Another Score or Store…

In dalliance park they make the deal,
impure white powder for stolen cash.
They’re just part of a revolving wheel,
this shit happens when you're only trash.

Into a needle then a wanton blue vein,
charging through to hearts and minds.
In seconds he’s laughing at his pain,
a dead man with simplicity unwinds.

A score to settle or a score to make,
dealers soon start to rule the streets.
Men we call evil always on the take,
puppet master's careful who he meets.

deep pool
dark eye half opened by the moon

you will drown
when you step forward

wind snickers through bones of winter trees
skulls’ harp

now - complete your business
no forgiveness

I took a stroll the other day,
and even though the day was grey
I spied children playing in the sun,
an elderly couple holding hands,

and an ha'penny coin that had not yet, begun to lose it’s lustre.
So, I put the ha'penny coin in my pocket.

I continued walking forward into darkdom

unbeknownsto & inbetween the shadows

apparently, just for added effect;