Archive for February, 2013

Who We Are

You are my cloaking sky

I am your wayward bird

Target our solar reality

Embrace our lunar dream

We meld and transform

Transcending amorous looks

Grander than cherished words

Closer than adhering flesh

We are not merely in Love

Love weeps for not being us


Concerted Effort

Troubadour queen seduces the meek

Acoustic riders love her perfectly

So robustly fertile in womanly form

Sweet nakedness of a capella ballad

Succinctly nourishes withered souls

So palpable is her melodic jet stream

Journey us through the beautifully wrong sounds

Yes – to rhythmic nirvana or sultry limbo

The stage dreams and aches for this being



Give me no pity

No damnable sympathy

Wish me no solace

Peace is a stench in my truth

Shovel me a deep hole

To bury my rude screams

Then open my corrupt head

To extract the precipes of self war




Protector of youthful nonsense, I am

Thus surly in matters of tomfoolery

Whimsical atmosphere, my only air

Consuming my honey lies and bitter truths

Evolution seems fashionably intrusive

I, the great transformer

Passively conform to another’s dream

Philosophical mute or comatose orator

Lovely to be an enigma this week






Think in mother-speak

Though void of pelvic wonder

Live infinitely reckless

Though your face is a clock

Shed beautiful tears expeditiously

Your times of joy seek attention