The stream (all workshops)
blue grapes, at late, drapes of black orange
hurls passion for the sea pleasure of satellites
wiry, but that was caught by birdsongs
and a colossal twinkling of the nights sea creatures
in an avenue for all living things colourful
ballerina of circles, she might compose
tresses of pink emeralds, mauve blister squash
dances for the derailment of aged oystershells
vortex ascension
sun splits dimensions
An eye above
an arms length
shines
a spill of gloss
enamor lush
rushes in the
throes this grasp
The wind of lust
gushes in its
rush
behind the whirling
hum of a summer
fan
prism beads the
sheen on arms
shimmer like
lights of the edge
the tiny stars
shivering
in this dusk
of darkness
the pummel heart
swelling in its
tender cage
racing
I so love your skin's feel
beneath my old rough fingers
e'en after a caress I steal
the memory still lingers
As touch moves on to gentle cleft
I'm filled with anticipation
of patience I am now bereft
please fill my expectation
And as each little roundish nub
also begs for attention
calling out for a light rub
and a poem's lyric mention
Just the sight of your soft curves
fills me with such delight
and never ever fails to serve
to enrich my appetite
flesh of gold
the rain and the sour waffles
melts in progeny, delve deep
feline black suede embellished
waters who watches stick
the colours of a greyhound
a weaker flesh
fancy each ripeness
dragoon the eye of all coyote's
stone on the skies
in float of rainbows translucent
flesh is bread
and blood is wine
glitz in the meridian
stark darkness, hunger!
sacred hearts, born not of tame
paint turmoil passes;
slim curvatures of green gases
now, diabolic excavation
then is not now
but somehow
then,
surfaces for a
grasp of air
in present
memories.
memories.
memories.
if the then does not exist
how are we here now?
what was it then?
and what will it be? then?
then when?
and how?
is tomorrow now?
memories
memories
memories of
a child's hand
painted in colour
white curtains
that sway in the gentle breeze
and a moon as large as earth
memories
memories
of birth
linger
in the depths
U 30
swept swaying the
swag of hair
I rode your crescent
dead end life
your tight hatch
thumped and
your lines run up
with the need
of your fix
that smarted
the tears fresh loose
Stretched from the
little bunt snout
to the toes reaching
down calves
dune fresh
moonlit scorned
Hips straight
from the windows
of calamity
jutted in defiance
on sheets of
liquid lavander
Life is all love and play
then go away..
any day
sad u r folks chose
MAY DAY
Hope they enjoyed their earthly stay
Mine had a wider choice
first in Jan
next in July
followed by 5th May..
next in Dec
and
yet another in October
others in July... October
just one in August
yet one sadly true
early in September too
when will I go wish I,
not heavens knew
do any one of you?
You had your books in order
on the shelf but you had scattered
your work on a desk
by the window
in an angry mess
or the wind had visited
and disheveled your hair
so that your thoughts lay everywhere.
You were mad, sometimes,
in that study; Love kept me
at the threshold of your room.
You will not let me in
when you sat enthroned like the queen
with a song on her lips,
but this is what you are, poor thing
shackled to that iron seat:
Obtuse
on fallen knees
broken but yet busted
the sheen of the hours
waited
the baited
lamps
burning hot
humid
Lurid soundscape
an edge with no
escape
shadowedge
the point of light
pulled in that
tension
unbearable
Parked in a sea of hot asphalt
(and it's not yet mid May)
I exit into air as thick as soup,
sweat springing out where I once had hair.
and I begin my plod
....to Wal-mart.
The lot has trees in scattered islands
from one of which an unseen bird
sings his heart out for spring love.
Trees will one year provide more
than a mere tease of shade.
Is it the heat
which brings out the sights
of Wal-Martians in every shape and form?
I've never seen an ass that big
stuffed into so little cloth.
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