rainwater
slips into the
underworlds abyss
the little glimmer
colds touch damp shiver

running lean
on rotten brakes
a shoulder ravaged
with nerves all damaged

cars hiss prowling shapes
an echo music in my
head makes
wonderland voodoo
of here and there
puddles like a giants
wake

fest of sleeping dripping
winter drowned
beneath the florid dreams
aground
a raven wears a glistening
crown

...

dresses, make up, bras & cigarette

humanities heaviest of cost
one must learn to put self on a shelf
to surrender to unconditional acceptance
love is the essence of one's existence

it extends between both time and space
when I look deep into her eyes
it is then I see a future
filled with hope for a better tomorrow

amidst the sadness and sorrow
still I have become cumbersome with this world
left in peril as if some terror
disturbed

Belaboring semantics overmuch
can deaden souls to rhythms they should heed,
explaining why some poets never touch
the music of the cadence sonnets need.
To hear that inward sound, a grand huzza --
dispense with any tricks you might employ:
tap out a beat and sing, la LA la LA --
then write the way that gives you greatest joy.

While poring over poems we adore
we take to heart the lessons masters teach,
so pick up those loose iambs from the floor
and use them for sweet melodies of speech.

What ocean lies between us now,
A pair of dimming stars
in gulfs as vast as generations
Left behind by lives transformed
In time and pressure

What empty sea is this
That separates what we once were
Into what we have become
Bereft of all but memories
Of care and laughter?

On the surface sunlight sparkles,
Yet underneath lies growing void
Reaching down to lifeless dark
A drowning man might welcome,
A soulless man acknowledge as a friend.