thank you
100: thanks for the read
pkd: thank you for the compliment
kim: thank you

your kiss in their noisy hours
as the sultry shadows flee,
unspins the web of soul in torture.

your altruism alters a moment swerved
and hails with more than time
that rocked me to the sphere.

willow’s web of all
laid upon your beauty
rendering stars silent
that had vowed to the sun,
in sober words,
a sweet and stainless majesty.

Beautiful within thy poet wanting,
whose beast is strong and frail--

your tempest in motion has a painting set,
a scroll unrolled and read, immense immortality.

Your sweet waters mighty block unleashed,
doth dance with tantric tranquility,
and soothes my parch from being dead.

Thief, prostitute, debonair debater
sprang survival on my lips of flowers
of three summers’ pride.

In your bask I sit as predator
to hunt with joy and imperial will;
and draw a rolling rock to luminous lustre.

And as the sun caressed your gaze,
we forgave such a captivating charm,
your fingertips swayed and sighed
every feature of mine captured.

But thou, O obsidian, it’s I that found you
to clear your ship's dandelion deck,
in truth, your ocean spray washed
my dreary doom to the hottest tender--

and with your locks on my helm,
like flakes of artful being,
in each place I stand naked
and I am, your key to me.

wow look at the score KY got beautiful, beautiful

mary...
s1ow... thank you for the read
wench... cling to nothing and you'll have nothing to defend
flame... thank you
kat... ache

Under-song in my hoary hurray
shall sing a summer’s story
“you may be broken, maybe…” –-

ov’r my echo-harbouring shell
dressed up like Endymion’s eyes,
his helium heart.

Your garden consumed
the light-house top
of my latter flowers,
touched true torment
thrice my head’s size,
while freeing falsities
to wander in the grace
sowed for me.

Thou our dreams were conceived
in the dark of fears;
as if we are the deep
within my muscles –

I hear the music
of the ancients!

Another day closer,
another one further away,
adrift upon an unknown tide,
somewhere in-between
here and there.

Compass spins lovingly
with a push towards her isle shore,
and Lesson’s flotsam slide
the other way.

Sails stretch in Spirit’s warmth,
rudder tethers Fate’s course,
the bow hugs the non-circular way,
and the eye glass looks
into the teeth of her storm.

Dancing upon golden sands,
waves break around perfection,
like thunder on Destiny’s horizon,
as time stood silent and still.

Eyes bright as sun kissed glass,
a whiplash smile that points,
like poetry in motion,
the way to her seaside paradise
high above Life’s jagged reef.

One passing of the sun,
one death of the moon,
one rotation of our Mother,
one trip around the bowl,
for her to swoosh away
my past.

opps

bon jovi has nothing on blaze except he sings better well done

A forest fire flames serenity,
destruction pants creation.

Sentinels turn to ash,
smolder in the bird crap
of the past.
Wild life with feminine talons
claw a path to the heart
of another man’s land.

Firefighters left at the alter,
no yellow suit needed,
the horseshoe of her light
protects fertile ground.

The deep woods ablaze with hope,
creation’s foundation kissed.

A deer, with a magician’s wand,
wanders within the half light
cast,
like the sigh from fairy wings.

Ashen footprints tattoo
new memories yet to be born.

Wall of beetle infested gladiators
slain by the heat of her smile,
burn of her kiss,
scorch of her eyes,
and the warmth of her embrace.

A fire rages deep in the heart
of my reseeded woodland.

tank you plain
100

kat as you know this is a tribute to Brent Smith(1941-2002) who honored me with being the instructment of his crossing over while I was driving a transit bus 9-5-2002. In four days it will be the 6th aniversary of that fateful day that he crossed-over in my presense.

and wander in My grace

Like any other work day
I pace pathetically,
in concrete circles,
catch a bug or six in my teeth,
inhale a few fly-by-nighters,
and exhale a sordid tale or three.
Typical Thursday afternoon affirmation
of time grinded
into a computerized signature.

My pace slows slows to a crawl,
co-worker’s rear-end
a mere bird’s-eye view,
I stop,
idle idiotically as the party goers
start to arrive and depart.

I stick my nose into the party’s business
and stroll aisle one at a turtle’s tempo.
Like on Mardi Gras Tuesday
without the masks,
my space shortens,
ass-end caressed,
and I dance a congested conga.

I saunter ‘cross the great divide,
right signal sanity’s headache,
and step to the side.
I read my timetable,
twiddle thumbs,
while creating a hazard behind me.
My timetable blurs with an “Oh sh!t”
and back to dancing I go.

I force myself over to the left
stop
and flash fervently.
Red turns gangrene green,
I swing hips to the right
while my head went left
when suddenly silence,

silence yawned,

swallowed me
as if a black hole materialized
right before me.

Stopped,
standing on the precipice
of midnight’s homecoming,
I open my eyes
to a transparent mist’s
magnificent rise.

With a quick pause,
a smile
and a humbled, “I’m sorry, its not your fault”
the mist explodes like a supernova
leaving me
looking for a cigarette
to stuff the situation
down

down into
my nauseated stomach.

Critical inflammation sodden
stagnate depths misplaced
in frigid pipe dreams
held hostage within
simulated emotions.

Sculpting a kingdom
of sand castles,
in the velvety recesses
of my mind’s arrogance,
a grapevine of mortality’s
breathless truths open.

A river of light, out of Eden,
of pristine and abundant beauty
splits the prismatic duality
lost in subjective metaphor.

Escorted lies of insomniac
thought of a lonely man
vanish in the midnight murmurs
of her white light’s acoustics.

Elevated senses held within
sheltered visions of tomorrow
entwine dream with wish,
like an anaconda mating ball.

Papered chains that had bound
burn in the white-hot flame
of the light she has shined
upon me.

well done scribe!

treasure of 5 rusty chunks of iron plus 5 gallons of protein plus 15 silver pennies

TY May

risk taken! reward worth it? Did the scale lay on the ground of the reward side or what?

isn't that what Bastet means... perfect?? or is that beautiful-ly fertile with passion? *shrugs* My memory at times

nice!