It could be something.

Or nothing.

Or the rest of your life.

No way of knowing,

And not knowing  is

The distance between

The bottom of your

Feet and the bottom of the ocean.

The pleasures of fantasy and imagination

Sunlight to shadow dancing on the wall

Beside my heart.

Some raucous temerity

Would be welcome,

Overcome as I am

By the times in this blackened

World and the bones;

Too long in this skin

Unwilling to jump

Off the cliff –

Some more again.

Landing on my feet is a long-time habit.

Finding those shoes

takes more time today.

 

The Flamethrower

It’s a harmless hobby really
On Monday nights I flirt with the coffee boy
(He rather likes men from what I see)

Letting Go of Laura

Sitting folded up like a pretzelHolds hands onto anklesBack to the wall. When he first spoke of herWeeks ago,He beat his chest - without notingHis own Mea CulpaCrossing arms over wounds newly dressed: Unfolded,Stood up straight;This is a tall manHead to toe full six...

Reason Is Such A Sham

Reason is such a sham,

Without the shape and tone

And hue of rhyme,

Feeling flawed as you

Baby Boomer Retreads

My affections were incomprehensible.
Politically incorrect.
All wrong.

Infamous Footwear

It could be something.

Or nothing.

Or the rest of your life.

Dock of the Bay

Prolonged isolation,

Home of the Brave

Sleep deprivation,

Land of the Free;

A Beautiful Night

Hands shoved deep into his pockets

She thought, “They belong in my hair”

Shoved deep in his pockets.
(It’s the question of ownership…
With hands shoved deep in pockets
He owns himself).

Red, Blue & Alabaster Skin Crimes

Today I want to tear this alabaster skin away

From every sick and twisted crime that has been committed In the name of whiteness

May Moon in Scorpio

Last night
The lover that lives in my Scorpio Moon
Captured me,
Found me out,
Possessed my imagination

The Predator’s Lament

Oh! for the taste of

Fresh flesh rising:
Voiceless, passing, pressing of fresh flesh rising.

This Morning I Awoke #18

This morning I awoke,
A melancholy January snowfall.
No Ambition
Bleak

Moon Goddess

I am the glorious furious Moon Goddess.
My rhythms draw you to my roundness.
I promise you no warmth.
I build you no flowers.

Commitment

I will have you

For what it’s worth.

 With dignity and balance in mind,

Make you up again on paper,
Cut and paste you to the form.

Chester is Mad with Joy

In the meadow
Running
Round and round
Mad with joy.

Four Car Colors

Four car ago
Blue appeared
On a good day
When I was feeling vast