If I fall do not wake me
as I spiral down
I'll accept my destiny
here I am awake, but unconscious
and I'll look to the moon for my guidance
I can feel this so deep
but only I weep for me
to be held close I don't need
but illuminate me with your energy
I've fallen with no hands in reach
I lie dormant
here it is not rotten nor lonely
I can feel it all around me
like frozen stones, eyes surrounding, darkened holes.
They whisper "sleep, let them be"
I am forsaken

Its saturday, its saturday
and minus ten degrees,
the trees stand frozen statues
as there isn't any breeze,
the coldness of the blue
spreads its mood of darkened gloom,
a contrast to the stillness
of the warm air in the room;
the bird that waits on top
of that twiggy weeping tree,
a willow hoping for the sun
the wish of well nigh everyone,
I put away my pillow once again,
to meet this winter's morning without sun,
as I chew my breakfast, finish this poem.

They sit up in their marble hall
disconnected from reality
where they vote debate and all
as if their laws apply to me

I don't own a single liscenced gun
yet I own many more than most
with which to have illegal fun
Let them legislate and boast

The more that those fools legislate
the more they disarm honest men
for I'll get My guns at any rate
without paper work or pen

I walked in a foreign land
Where our fruit had fallen
There in rows were crosses
Did our fruit's seed grow these

I dreamt that our fruit,
Had both arms and legs
These had only one leg
Were they from our seed

Did we sow these seeds
Were they cloned or bred true
A near copy of me and you
Why did they reproduce so.

This land is not their home
In this place they have grown
From the loins of us so far away
As a monument of their time..

The art to love
life longevity
is to play
the game

Know the rules
then break some
not all
chaos
is so draining

but I've played
Backgammon
with ancient
Greeks

Rhodes town
Mandraki harbour
they beat me
obviously

I didn't know
their
rules

But the game
unfolded like
a Rubic's cube
fiendishly
simple-clever

Dark shiny pebbles
burning into
my celtic reserve

someone said consummate...
I wondered of what kind...
but isn't LONDON all heated up???
Come to Canada its normal ...
minus 37 at times, often
and all houses warm
no clothes needed
consummation is quite easy
ere the power fails
it never used to,
but now a day’s one can't say
Twould not do
so keep yourself warm
ere the guys come and storm
and try to you warm.
hahhaaha
take it easy
be cozy
the summer is not far
except for Aussies as
one does say

Tip of nose cold and icy
stiffened fingers,fumble nicely
Sheets of ice in my bed
Boots and overcoat, hat on head
Ten layers to keep me warm
Hot food needed salads harm
Scarves, and mittens,gloves get lost
Snow flakes,Icicles and Jack Frost

The art of getting through
like a canvas filled with sadness,
a word that causes thought
yields us to our common steps.

Standing on the desert butte
just as the sun goes down,
within the orange magnificence
I stretch to kiss the clouds.

A look-at-me-I'm-sexy waitress
working for her tips,
one whiff of her flavored naughtiness
I can't help but flirt a bit.

A Skit on Age

Had I the golden charms of youth, I would sell them
To be solemn, I laugh at the serious things
Crater lines, as the Grand Canyons cross my face
As to the hair it blew away last autumns storm

I inhaled the passive smoke, against all healthy laws
Gold wraps my twisted fingers worn so thin as is my smile
Rare endeavours of reaching up for printer paper, too late,
Pallid pages, ink spilling, psychologists pictures made

Raw blades
baste blue flesh
walking on the
shoreline

The Solent looking
like a malevolent
ash pit

Grey
eerily still
the colour of a
death sheet

Each step
crunching like
broken glass
on frozen terrain

I want to be
adventurous
but the air
I breath
is pitiless

The dinghies sailed
by brave frost biters
race by
mocking my timidity