...I

hi-yo
oh! motion motor
plunge forth
onto Omega

keep 'em rollin'
onward ho!
to Omega
all must go

....II

it creeps through the night
a deathhold
set to strike

suppress the scream

the sky too dark
too bold
too ever stabbing cold

even a single sigh
heaved high into the mighty, falls
awkwardly
backward
inward
shattering the frozen calm of acceptance

.....III

I feel sick….
Not nauseous…….not ill….. just sick…
Obsessed with perception………
Depressed from deception………..
Mind games…. Mortality…. Morality…. Out of control
Unable to comprehend……….to just chill…. And just roll with it
I’m thinking too much… out of touch… out of sync
Head full of bad wiring… I just sit here and blink….
Why can’t I just deal with shit?
Why Can’t I rise up?
To conquer my lunacy..
And stand up… JUST FUCKING STAND UP!!!
The fear is paralyzing…..
I wish I could shrink

She gazes out over the vast expanse of ocean,
Longing for her quiescent, brave love with soulful devotion

Loves everlasting candle with immortal flame,
Living, breathing, only to eternally whisper her true loves’ name

Burning in her heart sempiternal,
Through eyes sacred emotions shone sentimental

As her clinquant tears cascade free-fall,
She prays to God a wish with her all

For his safe return to her loving embrace,
A need no more to dream, to hold his precious face

No Silver Sermon

I stood in his house feeling the weight of age,
as he assumed knowledge of where the dead go
His insincerity rekindled my youthful rage.
why can’t we just end this demeaning show.

There is no god to strike me down,
when I refute his religious clown.
In all the storms I gladly go drown,
than board an Ark that bares his crown.

So now you understand or perhaps feel,
that you have gotten to know of me.
I can only have faith in what is real,
judgement will always be made,
on what I can see.

Sleet shushes me this winter eve
and bounces off my old felt hat
as chill wind sneaks up my coat sleeves
stealthy as a stalking cat

With shoulders hunched I walk along
through white which barely dusts the ground
toward cows lowing their same sad song
beyond the barn toward which I'm bound

They spy me and come at a trot
as they do 'most every day
toward their familiar feeding lot
where I fill their racks with hay

you make my day
as no one else does these days,
people walk my way
as never before
so many do come
to secretly read
the sexier.. blushier ones
silently...

now at times
I evaluate what I've written,
nothing from the world
has anything been hidden

all my poetry is off the cuff
I ain't no celebrity
nor, that kind of stuff ...
having plenty of
in a wallet ,called time

I compose poems
out of sync
many times out of rhyme

Impressionable young women
encouraged to enter a trade
that oft belittles and degrades
detrimental to mental health
not worth the short-term wealth
people have become inured
forget the pain often endured
reality becomes obscured
to enter a life of vice
women can feel they have no choice
no other way they recognise
fed by their dealers lies
I always picture it seedy
making a living from the needy
pimps are just plain greedy
big men, in fact, weedy
I’m told its consensual

tremble in the voice

the night lair haunts
with empress mirrors
coiffed hair taunts

dream ember
sapped in turmoil
the golden age
unfurled

the parted world
in its weave
its magic

the last dance
in the bloody basket

Report Poem

First Evening (Première Soirée)
by Arthur Rimbaud

Her clothes were almost off;
Outside, a curious tree
Beat a branch at the window
To see what it could see.

Perched on my enormous easy chair,
Half nude, she clasped her hands.
Her feet trembled on the floor,
As soft as they could be.

I watched as a ray of pale light,
Trapped in the tree outside,
Danced from her mouth
To her breast, like a fly on a flower.

EPISTOLA FRATRI MEO
[Letter to my brother]

I am nothing more than who I am
I know my strengths and limitations
yet somehow I’ve failed
to meet others’ expectations.

Always judged but rarely judgmental,
I’ve spent a lifetime nailed
to one cross or another.
I’ve lived by my own golden rule
and I do unto others
what they have done to me.

My heart may be tender
My character of a nature kind
But I am no fool:
I am not blind to treachery
and can clearly see
a Judas trying to undo me.