Awake the sun heat spirits
dance through glades of ghost
grass where the whispers
of the winds stir hairs
on napes of necks
and your Blazing disc discourage
noon ruckus in sweat
trickle runs between thoughts
thick and sticky

Swelter up the power grid
where hipsters sip pina coladas
and ribbon streamer conditioned
air slips into rooms

while fire hydrants spray kids in
cities where the rivers far
and the lakes not safe
cool active minds and bodies
in motion

even if perception was to loosen exponentially
until we could feel realities blend
the colour of twilight be seen in its divinity
through all our senses to gently wend

even if strings that vibrate through forever
releasing acoustics of every single round
that exists within the chromatic scale of ever
should on our ears progressively sound

even if piquant flavours of eternity
did assault our appetites to taste
aromas roaming in blank perpetuity
over our palates softly baste

how about the lightening bugs
aren't out tonight
stare into the darkness
for glimpse of just one

the tall shadowy trees
under the starlights does twinkle a little
with sparkles of light
imagined they are fire bugs

but, know it's not them
just wishful thinking on my part
realizing the full moon no longer shines
so bright through my den's window

the new moon is out tonight
the only things shining bright
stars i wonder about
that forms andromeda and pegasus 

Inch worm,
Measuring my thumb,
I ponder the size of your heart,
Its tiny valves and arteries,

The size of your brain,
Containing knowledge of survival,
Peaceful, little creature,
As you keep to yourself,

Small being you are not frightened,
Of a warm and large hand,
Do you go about your day,
Counting steps along the way,

Who am I to say you do not think?
Who am I to say you cannot feel?
Then I wonder what or whom you may love,
With all your tiny, little heart.

lovely roses

we all love roses
both when alive
and
when we die,
we take their perfume along
and
those left behind,
place roses in pages of books
as bookmarks
for the end of time ...
when newer generations
repeat the same story of love
we all have
and
had in mind ...
roses are for ever
dear friends…
of mine

ILUSIONES

No tengo más ilusiones
de grandes amores
ni golpear siquiera
otros corazones.
Soy hombre raro
apasionado y vulnerable.
mas son lobos y chacales
los que huelen
mi sangre
y en sus dientes tener
en esperanza de comer

ILLUSIONS

Muse

by RW

parched beyond ability to speak
the dust, the crust, I must get to the peak
shared desert home with scorpions
aeons, sidewinders nudging me for warmth
I bit them for the wetness of the blood
-
did roaring distant sounds deceive my ears?
had madness claimed the final game of years?
I stirred at sunset, gray, spectral
to seek the noise and speak the joys
of the wellspring from which I'd run

I want to wear bandoleros
to work
be a bandido
dancing a dangerous bolero
through a growling fanfare of gunsmoke

a desperado
living outside someone else's law
one step ahead
of my overly enculturated
conscience

own land only..by my experience

if upon it you can stand
never own land
which you will control by remote
and
in any case such land is of no use
why land abuse?
so hold the land while you live
not too much of it
ere others want to kill
and
then when you are done with ,
the land should be sufficient
wherein you can be buried in it..
that's all your share,
then leave the unknown land
of this planet
you may upon times domain

Within this stone I see a shell,
a fossil from a distant age
when oceans covered this old hill,
another time, another page.

Dire wolves, camels, mastadons
roamed here ere humans arrived.
Traces of them still are found
although none of them survived.

There's a stone face painting near
left by long forgotten men
who disappeared in mists of time.
What was this place like back then?