But can you truly live that way? I wish that you could teach me how . . . How do you let go when you have held nothing back and given all? When your lips know only thirst, your heart knows only hunger, and your wings are torn asunder, where do you find new hope? Do you still dream of the rarefied air? Of angels?

One Heart

Life is such a twisted thing,
The beauty and the pain,
There's a price for every rose you pick,
A cost for every treasure gained.

I don't know what to do with it,
My eyes are tired, my mind deranged,
I only have a simple need, one heart
To please exchange.

Simple Needs

I have no need of servants, my needs are simple and few,
The trappings of society, for the most part, I eschew.
So when you look into my eyes, and see the longing there,
Understand the need you sense is not one that ensnares.

I don't need a woman to cook for me or clean,
I don't need a nursemaid, or someone to demean.
I don't need a waitress, or a prop upon my arm,
I don't need a socialite, full of wit and charm.

I've seen your eyes, and felt your heart; I've heard your spirit roar,
There's magic in your soul that I've seen here before.
You've sisters in the forests, and sisters in the air,
I know because I've ran with them, I smell them in your hair.

When you look into your lover's eyes, do they burn for you?
Do they see beyond your flesh and hunger for that too?
When they taste your sweating body, do they go insane?
Do they give themselves completely - can you ascertain?

In you the fire that burns forever is as bright as it can be;
You stole my heart, you are my soul, you move alluringly.
I need to feel you feel my love; I must placate this thirst,
Just as the night turns into day, in you I'll be immersed.

When you look into your lover's eyes, do they rage for you?
Does their love burn like red-hot steel - or a slightly lesser hue?
Can they feel your mighty spirit flying through the air;
Do they see the blissful goddess - or do they even care?

Can you remember when we ran through fields, and woods and streams;
How I pledged my life and love to you, under the lustrous moonbeams?
You are me and I am you, forever we're entwined;
God touched you, and you touched me; and earth and stars combined...

Thank you so much. (You too, mowildflower!) I would be better suited fishing for bass or crappie, it seems. It seems I cannot find the woman who values what I value. But your kindness gives me comfort in my valley of tears . . .
~ Wes

You honor me and I am humbled once more. Man lives for that - kind words from a soft heart. I wish a thief would rob me of the bitterness . . . There are days I would rather see this world with fresh eyes. Have you read Simple Needs? (I lose track of what I may have posted.) It may be edgy, but safe enough for this forum. Before head meets pillow I'll try to post it. And honestly, I truly do thank you. I would run out of space trying to explain, but it is heartfelt.
~ Wes

Dear Annyjo,

I thought your case deserves special mention (but it applies to all). I do find women maddeningly overcomplicated. You think when you should feel, and feel when you should think. There is no rhyme or reason to the balance of it, and yet we men are expected to follow the course as an astronomer would follow the more predictable heavens� And heartbreaking!* The fairer sex truly believes all is fair in love and war � as I'm sure an equal number of men do � but only a woman knows exactly where to place the dagger as she smiles alluringly� Even given this terrible state of affairs (from a simple male's point of view), I must confess your point about boredom seems understated (the famous British reserve?). Without you, what man would care about the sunrise or the sunset? There would be no wishes on shooting stars or deepest well. The hue and color of our world would fade away until there was nothing left but gray existence, survival� But there would be nothing left to survive for. Without women, the most beautiful flowers to ever grace our Earth, what would become of love? Art and literature would die. Shakespeare would've had nothing to say. The male could never survive without you to soothe our savage hearts, and then with one knowing glance to make it surge within our chest again to the point where we would give our life for one kiss from your lips� So I suppose if one must be damned, let my prison have kind soulful eyes, soft arms and legs to envelop me in, and the voice of an angel. Even with the heartbreak, what man can bear the world without you?

Your [tall, stocky] friend from across the pond,

Wes



PS. I would retire to my lonely writer's garret to produce nothing but love poems for hours on end just to hear that lovely British accent call my name�


* I hope you can forgive my bitterness, it comes to me honestly. Perhaps one day some angel will heal the scars:

Lover of the Words

She was a lover of the words, or so she said through sweet lips
Which caressed my soul like warm, flowing honey in June heat;
And being of like mind my heart was soon lost to me.

There for a time our spirits danced in verbiage and dreams,
We opened like God's flowers to the rain and to the sun -
The music of our words filled us with hope and love.

Higher things than this crass life engenders - better things.
We were closer to that state in which we are born and it was grand;
More angel than dust, more moonlight than shadow.

The words were me - no more or less, I was the song I sang,
But time was cruel and her heart crueler, the music was untrue.
Her words were but a tune to be played for a time and ended.

There was an emptiness in her; she sought diversion from life,
A game, a distraction - a dalliance with the lover of the words.
The words were not her; like wind there was no substance there.

She was artful, she was skilled; her locution rose and fell and darted
All in time with the movement of the spirit and I gave myself to it.
I was enthralled by the eloquence of her song, her cunning symphony.

And in her time she ended the recital - she went on to other pieces,
She went on to other patrons, and left me there alone without a sound.
She took the words and left a void greater than the one she found.

The soul is built on words, the spirit sails on ideals high -
Nothing else is more than empty dream to deceive poor fools like us.
The cruelest lie is the truth of the moment; sing your songs forever...

Or do not sing. Stay in the safety of your emptiness. Live your lie alone.

That sounds like a bit of a challenge; I like challenges . . . I am up to my eyeballs in various projects right now, but it seems a breath of fresh air has stirred the embers of my soul (my thanks to you ladies for that). Let me see what I can do. Let me share one with you now (my edgiest ones would not be welcome here!), and I will do my best to answer your call as time allows!
~ Wes

Feel the Fire

Don't you need to feel the fire -
To feel this life's complete?
Don't you want to hold the heart
That burns for you with searing heat?

In you lives a poet's soul,
It shows clearly in your eyes -
In your veins the blood of wolves;
How can you compromise?

Your face is that of God above,
From your lips music flows;
Kings would die to touch your heart,
On the stars your beauty does impose.

There is a fire that burns for you -
It burns for you alone.
Keeping time with heaven's host,
It's love it does bemoan.

To see the future's hand I went
Deep into the wildest wood.
I sat with moonstone in my mouth
Till in that light I understood.

Child of love and child of light,
My soul belongs to you;
Night and day I am consumed,
This inferno I can't subdue.

Have you known the white-hot heat -
Would you like to try?
I'll make the heavens dance for you,
On this heart you can rely...

Don't you need to feel the fire -
To feel this life's complete?
Don't you want to hold the heart
That burns for you with searing heat?

Dear Unsure,
You and Simonedemidova are just going to make me blush right down to my toes with comments like these. I have to warn you though, encouragement could lead to more of the same! And seriously, thanks to all of you for your kindness.
~ Wes

It sounds like you have met the scammers, too. The first thing they seem to do is get you to start contacting them directly. Maybe we have even been hit up by the same one before. While all the pics for me have been beautiful young long haired women, I somehow keep imagining a sweaty little village in Ghana where a "boiler-room" full of black George Costanzas (from Seinfeld) are busily working their gnome-like fingers on their keyboards . . . What we might need here is an epic ballad to these brave young thieves! A tribute! Think they read the Poems & Creative Writing section?

A beautiful woman with discerning taste. This can only mean that you are not available! Still, that's the best compliment I've had on this site since a scammer from Ghana Africa offered to show me the best way to eat a banana. As my friend Elvis would say, "thank you, thank you very much�"

There is something to be said sometimes for leaving it to the imagination, isn't there? So here's to women, absolutely impossible to understand and quite nearly guaranteed to break your heart (leaving us writhing in pain, etc., etc.) and still we hunger for them . . .

Dirty, filthy tripe is not allowed here, so you get a poem without any of the naughty bits. You will have to use your imagination, or write to me directly, if it takes more than something burning to light your pilot light. Best wishes to all:

Something Burning

There's something burning, burning down inside of me,
There's something churning, that's got to be set free,
You know that I want you, more than I want to live,
You know that I need it, take all I've got to give.

There's a fire in your eyes, how deep does it burn?
There's a fire in my heart, I can't act unconcerned.
I feel a furious hunger, no other can satisfy,
So feed me your body, baby. Shall I clarify?

I want to taste you, baby, I want to drink your wine,
I want to feel your body, that's looking oh so fine,
I want to nibble on your neck, and work down to your toes,
Open up and let me in until your fuse box blows...

I want to bite you in places, you didn't know you had,
I want to make you so hot, you'll know that you've been bad.
I want to turn up your thermostat, till you're soaking wet,
When you're done shaking, baby, you never will forget.

This love that consumes me, this love that sanctifies,
It grew in your garden, I found it in your eyes.
Can't you see it, baby; we've lived our lives in chains,
Take a chance with me, honey, let's see what fate ordains.

There's something burning, burning down inside of me,
There's something churning, that's got to be set free,
You know that I want you, more than I want to live,
You know I need it, take all I've got to give.

Part of an Angel / or The Boy and the Wino

He must have been right about ten,
His shirt was dirty and his shoes had holes,
And the sun was sinking low.

He been run out of the railroad yards,
So he figured he'd try the city park
Where most of the winos go.

He settled in the middle of a big wood fort,
The kids had all gone home;
And he watched the sky fade to black,
His world turned to monochrome.

He traded a bum a pocket knife
He'd found the night before.
In return he got half a bottle of wine,
And a story forevermore.

"Somewhere there is an angel, for every boy and girl.
They got silver wings and emerald eyes,
And their robes are trimmed in gold.
When you least expect it, and your luck is running low,
They come to you in blackest night,
And they touch your very soul.
If you look into their eyes, you see the face of God,
Your insides are filled with a white-hot flame
That can never die.
From that day on, you're not the same,
And life, it can't wound you,
'Cause you're a part of an angel, and she's a part of you."

The boy picked up a couple of butts,
And handed one to the man;
They lit 'em up and inhaled the warmth,
As the stars performed above.

A drunk who reeked of Mad Dog and urine,
Sat down next to the boy,
Said "Son, you know how to flub a dub?"
He said, "I reckon I don't want to know."

The boy thanked the first man for his tale,
And headed down the road;
It don't take long to learn when to move
When you got nowhere to go.

He walked by the light of the glowing moon,
Breathed deep the crisp night air;
His toes were cold in his tennis shoes,
But somehow he didn't care.

He looked up toward the heavens;
He thought of wings, and silver and gold,
High up in the air.

Somewhere there is an angel, for every boy and girl.
They got silver wings and emerald eyes,
And their robes are trimmed in gold.
When you least expect it, and your luck is running low,
They come to you in blackest night,
And they touch your very soul.
If you look into their eyes, you see the face of God,
Your insides are filled with a white-hot flame
That can never die.
From that day on, you're not the same,
And life, it can't wound you,
'Cause you're a part of an angel, and she's a part of you.

Tonight may be my final performance so I skipped over several darker verses to share something hopeful. These words have seldom been shared. This is really less verse than an accurate historical recounting of a brilliant fall day circa 1981 in the NC mountains. Our two protagonists are quite real, and while some scholars debate the accuracy of the exact wording of the conversation that ensued, I would remind you that physicists themselves are uncertain as to what is real and what is illusion. Seeing and touching do not reality make, and what is not seen or felt has transformed the universe. I would submit reality is truth, and truth comes in many forms . . . My tiny friend has long since passed, but I would challenge the dubious to hear his words and judge them on their merit:


The Fly on the Mountain

A brilliant sun fought hard to heat the mountain breezes,
And my climbing bike sang out a song of raw power;
Sucking in the lofty air, leaning hard into the curves,
Flesh and metal, she was my lone conspirator...

On a switchback there it loomed above us -
The biggest damned thing that I had ever seen.
I had to climb that mountain to see from there above;
To taste the might and majesty, the beauty crystalline.

Slicing off the highway and cutting up a trail,
Though made for other purposes, my mount she did excel.
Then the path turned into trees, and I went on alone,
My heart was snared, by what my soul could not foretell.

At last I reached the lofty peak, and on it a great rock,
My pack unslung, I sat down there to look upon the world.
I rolled myself a hogleg of fine Columbian Gold,
Well aged bourbon chased the smoke as the world unfurled.

Time was passing nicely, as I watched the earth,
The land went on forever, and the clouds were within reach;
Until at last there came a buzzin' around my airy perch -
And the drone went on forever although I did beseech...

Then a thought - though crazy - he might want to share,
And so I blew some smoke his way as he flitted ‘bout my hair...
My friend did seem to like this, it calmed his furious flight,
He sat right down beside me, now easy to forbear.

Knowing the feel of cottonmouth, I looked down at my pal,
And sure enough he did seem parched - though it was hard to tell.
We found a crevice in our rock, and filled it with some nectar,
Kentucky's finest there before him, his thirst he did soon quell.

That done I turned back to the world, to contemplate my life,
But then a voice did come to me, though faint it was quite clear;
"I'd like to thank you for your kindness, most folks wouldn't care,
If you could what would you ask of a minute mountaineer?"

Now I've always had an open mind, but this struck me as quite queer,
Still, I'd always heard that wisdom was on the highest mountain found.
So I turned into my deepest heart, and touched upon its pain,
"What is real, and what is not, in this life's grisly battleground?"

I discovered tears falling from my face, at this I was surprised,
The door opened, I shook and moaned, and listened for the words.
"In you the river of all rivers, runs close there to the surface,
But your question - you want to know what it is that this life undergirds?"

"Three things are real - three things alone - in this the world you see.
All else is illusion. The first is matter, swirling atoms, these are you and me;
We are everything, but we are nothing, we are just alike,
No intrinsic value here, just some cosmic aberrancy...

The other two, there's the crux, so simple but complex,
The reason for the rhyme, the seed for all life's songs.
All that remains is love, and then the lack thereof;
For these the fragile heart does beat, the river to them belongs..."

"You lie to me, my newfound friend, we must be more than that;
What of our intellect, our words, the poetry we write..."
"You lie only to yourself, my child, you speak of intellect?
The rock we sit on knows more than all who walk upright.

"The only true knowledge is that there is so little known...
Electro-chemical flatulence!" With this he gave a laugh.
"Name the poem not born of love - or the pain of its absence.
And words! They are hardly fit for mankind's lowly epitaph.

I came down from the heights above, so that I might speak to you,
Most words are empty, vibrations in and lost upon the air.
People prattle to comfort themselves, more than anything;
The buzz of humans - with anything so plentiful, beware.

"Words are less than dreams if they're not acted on...
Shakespeare wrote not one word - he wrote love,
And his love moved generations, even heaven up above;
Love is real, and it means more than the dust we are made of..."

I sat amazed at my small companion, yet tears still fell like rain.
He said, "The window's closing soon, our time here is short.
Like most you don't say what you mean, you dance about the point,
I'll try to help with this deep pain, some hope to you export.

I cannot see the future's hand, I only know what is,
The eyes you see when you close yours in the early morning.
Those that pursue you are the darkness, antipathy of love,
And then the eyes that you pursue, it's too late now for warning.

The flower from the garden, strongest light of love,
In those eyes you'll lose yourself, the darkness falls away.
She said she'd always love you - that she would walk through fire.
These words that you believed led you down an alleyway.

Little hope for you I hold, it saddens me to say,
But you must still pursue the love, the light of fading day.
You are of the light and love, despite the disarray.
Follow your heart no matter what, from that path do not stray.

My last advice to you my friend, lover of the words,
Speak only words of substance, words you will support;
Say nothing that you do not mean, sweet lies cut the deepest,
Absence of love in sight of love will make your soul contort..."


With this my friend took flight, he left me there alone.
And darkness fell upon me, as my loss I did bemoan.
I closed my eyes and saw her there, that which was the real,
I left the mountain and took up quill, to those eyes once more appeal...

Hunger

I knew you in the time before time,
A thousand years ago, or more;
You stood upon the misty mountains,
In the pristine, moonlit air.
Green eyes shining under raven black hair,
The brightest stars in heaven or on earth;
In the night, I called the lightning's hand for you,
Fire struck the earth, but it paled before your view.
The angels felt your blameless heart, and wept ashamed.
God saw my love, jealous and wrathful, He banished me from you.

Do you know the hunger now, can you feel the searing pain,
Do you ache with emptiness, searching for the soothing rain?
When you close you eyes at night, do you feel the heat?
Does a fever fill your heart? Can you hear my screams?

In the darkness of the night, does someone call your name,
Would they kill to make the cut, just to brush your flames?
Do they give their soul to you, do they bleed when you feel pain?

Do you taste the burning need, or do they fill your heart,
Do they call the fire for you, do they rage against the gods?
As I search the earth in vain, do you hunger, do you need?

White hot heat through the stifling nights, damned for eternity,
Hard steel cuts cold blackness in search of a distant vision,
Blistering desire that never dies, savage hunger never quenched,
Can you feel my ghost caress you, my hands in the summer breeze?

I knew you in the time before time,
A thousand years ago, or more;
You stood upon the misty mountains,
In the pristine, moonlit air.
Green eyes shining under raven black hair,
The brightest stars in heaven or on earth;
In the night, I called the lightning's hand for you,
Fire struck the earth, but it paled before your view.

High Flight Revisited

I was running from the world,
Running from society;
On the fringes of the earth,
Lost to man's reality.
Nowhere left to run,
Nowhere left to hide;
High above I spied her,
And there I did abide.

Soaring on the updrafts,
Effortless grace of wing;
Lost there in her glory,
This vision so addicting...
I cried out to my Angel,
But my words were lost.
She thought I was the falconer -
Come for some sweet Pentecost.

I never once thought to ensnare her,
Or worse tame her for my own;
I did not need a martyr,
Or a goddess to enthrone.
Just a teacher of the upper air
To help me on my way.
Just to borrow heaven's light,
My demons then to slay.

She was born with gift of flight -
It showed in those keen eyes.
Her spirit flew between my reason;
It swept away my alibies.
I opened my heart to be her meal,
If not my willing teacher;
But though she danced there for a time -
I could never reach her.

I was born with gift of vision -
I see into men's souls.
Things that will be or yet could be,
And lies that take their tolls.
And though I see the Face of God,
I cannot know the healing touch.
My penance is the lack of love,
My hell is made of such...

The night came hard,
As did cold, bitter rain,
The falcon left for shelter;
She left me in my pain.
A brilliant moon shown past black cloud -
Their edges brilliant silver.
My tears were lost to all but me,
My soul the night beleaguered...

But I knew that somewhere in that night
A bird of prey watched moon as well;
Safe and dry in lofty perch,
Her demons she can quell.
Safe within her fortress,
Does she give thought to me?
Alone beneath the moon's cold stare,
Perhaps just casually...

The break of day now burns my eyes,
On mud-caked heels come demons fast.
Wet and tired I mount my steed,
The dreams of night my sole repast...

Soaring on the updrafts,
Effortless grace of wing;
Lost there in our glory,
The vision so addicting.
I cried out to my Angel,
Love lost and then reborn;
My soul hers and her soul mine,
The weight of earth forsworn...

Distant Dream

It must have been a distant dream, a figment of the mind,
I thought I felt warm arms and a heart, loving and kind.
A lover's kiss, an angel's breath, and me awash in flame,
But this path does not lead that way, to that I am resigned.

If this life is no more than dream, perhaps then it was real,
I know that is was glorious, my very essence thrilled.
Hands were touching places long since lost to me,
Dancing fingers, darting tongue - from whence was love distilled?

I don't know who the spirit was, long lost before my birth,
But limbs and heart and very soul, I was an eager slave.
And there beauty was increased, for I found my spirit safe -
Love alone was there in unseen eyes - and that love did I crave.

White-hot heat penetrated the emptiness of lonely years,
Wetness crashing soft - then hard; taking away the tears.
In the dark I thought I saw a face - I vainly tried to touch it -
Elusive as my hopes and dreams; leastways it so appears.

I was washed in ribald sweat and then washed in pure light,
And then I was just left there; lost in that strange, dark night.
You are better than this world, your taste won't leave my lips,
I hunger for my angel's kiss, the wet flame you did incite.

Won't you touch me, won't you take me, one last time again?
I've never known pure love before, at least not in this life.
I buy my love with broken dreams, sometimes a bone or two,
Take my body, take my soul, where wings and love are rife.

It must have been a distant dream, a figment of the mind,
I thought I felt warm arms and a heart, loving and kind.
A lover's kiss, an angel's breath, and me awash in flame,
But this path does not lead that way, to that I am resigned.

Thank you very much brother . . . Sorry about posting it twice. Mingle is acting strange today . . .

Diamond Eyes

Eyes that gleam like brightest diamonds,
Angel tresses falling softly, profuse grace...
Honeyed face, sweet dulcet vision,
The stars are there, of earth no trace...

Diminutive hands belie the fiery touch,
Fervent arms that hold both flesh and soul,
Moonlight suckled from heaving breasts,
Sustenance from heart of purest gold...

On ruby lips darts the slightest quiver,
Does it follow that gentle curve of spine?
A trace of earthy heat in sublime thighs?
Encompassed in womb; fire and love divine...

Lost in those eyes, reaching for promises unspoken,
But you speak without speaking, my heart I can't stay.
Do you know your own essence, my gem amongst rocks?
Do you know how you touch me, my soul you do play...

Tell me the secret - what enchanted words do I say,
Or show me your feral demons and dragons to slay.
Enigmatic angel, cryptic keeper of my soul,
To feel your light into any darkness I will foray.

You hold me in your hand as one would hold a glass,
And once your thirst is satisfied, my value will be nil;
I want to be a part of you - two souls forged in fire,
To espy the key to precious heart, pure love to distill...

Eyes that gleam like brightest diamonds,
Angel tresses falling softly, profuse grace...
Honeyed face, sweet dulcet vision,
The stars are there, of earth no trace...

Child's Comfort

My child, she came to me afraid and crying,
Pursued by dark demons of the night.
I kissed her, and I brushed her tears away,
I took hold of her and held her tight.

These demons of yours, I know them well,
For once they pursued me.
They come in darkness for a reason,
But you I'll give a key.

Love is light and light is love,
It's simple and it's free.
With this my child, you have a sword,
In gentle analogy.

The monsters cannot abide the light -
They run from it and hide.
Yet wherever you go you have the light,
You carry it inside.

So know I love you dearly,
Your mother does as well.
As long as you remember that,
The light will in you dwell.

So when the demons come to call,
With claws sharp and lies to tell,
Although we've taught you not to curse
Just say "You go to hell!"

Child's Comfort

My child, she came to me afraid and crying,
Pursued by dark demons of the night.
I kissed her, and I brushed her tears away,
I took hold of her and held her tight.

These demons of yours, I know them well,
For once they pursued me.
They come in darkness for a reason,
But you I'll give a key.

Love is light and light is love,
It's simple and it's free.
With this my child, you have a sword,
In gentle analogy.

The monsters cannot abide the light -
They run from it and hide.
Yet wherever you go you have the light,
You carry it inside.

So know I love you dearly,
Your mother does as well.
As long as you remember that,
The light will in you dwell.

So when the demons come to call,
With claws sharp and lies to tell,
Although we've taught you not to curse
Just say "You go to hell!"