SEX AT EIGHTY TWO
WILL DO! .....................some one said it....

at your age
you'd love to hear ...
nothing but lies
as you lie trapped
between lifeless thighs

but glad you do
when as grand fathers
mostly abandon...
they think they all are done

you have the verve
and
nerve,
to think twill still rise
it’s a surmise

at eighty-two something...
all say none can do ...

glad you hope to..
soon dad,
grand one I shall join you...

Madmen, seers, and fools [2]

In the light of night
I saw angels play
and daemons bay
at the moon
wonders of a madman’s dream
or eyes of a seer or fool
piercing through
into
galaxies of the mind

The May crown lay torn
imperfect ring
like thorns
on innocent whore heads

Did she think she wouldn't
be found
in thickets of green?

But you knew where
she lay
the girl-woman who
strayed
too close to
your dirty secrets
the bird-watching
hides
morn the spectacle
human horseplay
and carnal cavorting

and so you silenced
her
she'll not gossip
but where will
she sit now
she's making friends
with the worms?

I'm back. I'll pack my pains and ails,
my tears and wails
I'll pack them all,
with aches that bawl.

I'm back with suns, I'm back with moons,
with stars won't swoon.
I'm back with smiles
that last for whiles.

I'm back. No doubts, no cries, or tears
Nor ounce of fears
but trust and care
with much to share.

Will power.....
When one is young
And on burning ice of life,
What is cold what is hot,
Is no challenge,
tis like spice
the guys move with a free will
and don’t care…

then as youth merges with middle tones,
the waist broadens
one’s position heightens …
then one moves around with a heavy gait,
he is now heavy weight
and all that the ailments acclaim
he moves around still with verve and pain,
more with will power than disdain…

sheen curve
the beat beast
stirs
the arched spine
rumbling in its
slick movement
vertabrate velocity
beneath moon stroked
suffusion

an almond crest brow
and smudged lash
stirring

sweep fan vernacular
knock down the night
flushing tendril fires
from the russet dreams
the pale ear
and knuckles eased
through slated night
restless in a tropics
seas

I used to believe that love
Was a white horse with a knight
I used to believe that happiness
Was flowers and rainbows and light
And then I discovered with a brutal blow
Life’s not a fairy tale
And there is no boat to paradise
On which you and I can sail
I was taught to look for sonnets
Chocolates and flowers
But now I’m starting to believe
In a different kind of power
I was pushed headfirst into this world
Where pain and pleasure mix
I fight to heal my bleeding heart
That nothing else can fix

Vina del Mar

Tanker still out in the bay
like a child’s toy but huge and foreboding.
In the distance Con Con looks like a ruin,
the white villas cascade down like poured garbage.
'Come what may' as a credo?

Swastika pelicans dive,
shoreline a movement of colours.
Shadows stretch, the sand turns two types of beige.
La playa, how appropriate.

basil limp
a fan stirs

across the ribbon current
a highway crouchs

I can taste the cherise
a kiss lent

beneath descendants
across strata

a patina horse
nudges in joshua tree
shadows

limitless desire

Autumn Rain
Summer Storm
Keep me safe
Keep me warm
Protect me
From the winter’s cold
The growing list
Of fears untold
Hold my body
Close to yours
Kiss the scars
And heal the sores
You hold my heart
Now here’s the key
Unlock the cage
And set me free