little guilts and luscious lies
sweetmeats of imagination:
gifts for globulous priests
fat bellied, heavy men

sin eaters

banquet of imperfections
heralded by faith
chocolate box of judgement.
I watch the moon rise.

I am dark and fierce, full of shadow
bolt and lock the inner door
pebble water river poem
heart ease pale distraction
placed in haste totally at random
verbal stepping stones
but where-
to place my feet

my battered thesis curls with dust
academic failure cackles on the floor -
I thought I would be famous

Look at my pecker, it's erect
standing proud and tall
it has quite a startling effect
if it's seen at all

And it has a dark red head
much more red than most
(oh yeah, I named my pecker Fred)
Fred's most startling I must boast

He likes to plunge into tight holes
he plunges in then plunges out
all ins and outs demand high tolls
for he must, in doing, remain stout

Transitions have me weighed down
anchoring me to what’s next.
The “pull” has the internal velocity of a curve-ball,

yet, is as subtle as an insincere glimmer
having trouble appearing from a falsly executed smile.

I guess, they're sort of like an army of horizertical, gravitational entities
that pull down on my very being, and simultaneously hurl me towards the future,
to a place where all we know is, anything can happen!

She thinks of him every day of her life
pierces her soul like a sharp knife
the baby she had to abandon
her first born, her precious son

To young to handle responsibility
told this by peers repeatedly
gave in to pressure
heartbroken beyond measure

no day goes by
she doesn't cry
you'll often hear her sigh
memories drift by

She's afraid to look for him
in case only fulfilling her whim
he may not want to know
her forgotten long ago

Until the battle recedes
no more
and the earth has tilted
beyond its axis,
when the wind
gusts to appall
as in ancient
history,
forgotten

I shall remember,

As a muniment
of minutes
broke,
the sheath of silk
covering my id,
unveiled the majesty
and wonder,
ambrosia
energy flowing
in neon tubes

Revealed
in the pain
and suffering
an atom of joy,

You

In the dark, cold air of Winter
the shadows play games for so long,

each breath of air so sufficiently crisp
can freeze the words to Winter's, cold song.

This chilly breath escapes the season's
lips, when Solstice is here;

and the season exhales a meloncholy
that whispers in every ear;

which reminds us that another one
has joined the others, as did the last;

the season's chill cannot keep still
until the year officially enters the past.

swings and dodgems, children's' slides
brightly painted waltzing rides
one minute I embrace the sky!
the next I scream that I will drown
as we plunge -
down!
so be careful where you take me, love
candy floss and rubber snakes
false jewels and coloured paste
roundabouts can nauseate
and I would rather find my place
feet firmly -

on the ground

I will wear red for Mary on this, her funeral day,
This tumbledown wet morning
Hemorrhaging manure and mud,
Her small farm
Deep in nettles and rusted things,

Scented with cows’ breath.

The whine of wet dogs
Still haunt the hollow barn,
Roof tiles missing, sky winking.

The frog-squat of the ancient church,
The place to give her up,
Chilled mourners
Stamp impatient feet on the damp slate floor-
Not quite approving of her life

the manner of her death -

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