Your passion looks like blood.
I’m innocent, I swear,
In a bar napkin after closing
Kind of way.
Torture my heart, young lover,
With innocent eyes and wishful legs
Standing too close
In a cocktail philosophy.
I haven’t decided yet
What color this heart beats as,
But I’d guess it’s
A shade of lust.
A symphony of destruction broke into this heart
(a firm grip)
Which wasn’t available to remark
Due to insubstantial evidence;
Lack of memory.
Foreboding like distant clouds of electricity,
A smile lept into a place of fear
Which departed like a slick lover
Amidst heated darkness.
To which the happy couple waltzed on,
Around and around until fire held the lover’s
Freshly waxed mustache and
Used-car-garage-black dancing shoes
(no scuff marks),
Turned fast lindy hop
Which left our heroes glistening
(jacket casually over shoulder)
Upon a midnight jaunt
About the seaside boardwalk
Amidst leftover lovers and fellow romancers
(deeply involved).
A repeated whisper finally touched my senses,
Leaving a mark upon my soul.
It was said I was to be a lover,
To unite with all I’ve to offer,
Like sacred pools near sweeping oceans
Another whisper upon my neck.
Crawl out upon breaking waters!
Raise your hands up to the gods!
A breath beneath your light footsteps,
A sun upon your brow.
I whispered my lonely
Questions floating on my mind
Deeply into the eyes
Of my distant lover
Who shook from my thunder
Until dew drops rested quietly
About nearby roses
Quickly blooming.
You had never been to London,
Though you worked a crooked game.
You had long lines of a lonely lover,
You were always on my mind.
There were singing birds passing
Sky high to be always better,
You shared thoughts of sweet memories,
You were always on my mind.
Your fingers opulently touched
Every line of each note taken,
Supple lips of secret sensations,
You were always on my mind.
Sweet tea of lemon ginger.
Black jeans with broken leather.
Foreign food and I knew better,
You were always on my mind.
In the end, we never really know what we’re coming up against.
Like a thrill seeking pre-teen with ill conceived notions of danger.
…life ain’t a movie man. Life just ain’t like that.
So there we are, hanging out with our dicks up Five street.
I shot into darkness as if I knew this foreign lover language;
But never did skies open for my warmest of wishes.
Collapse! Collapse my dear lover, it’s gone on too far.
I’ve pushed to the end and I’m not quite back again.
…Whisper my madness with two squiggled lines to display it in this dust.
Misunderstanding again with my heart. It is drawstrings. It is amicable.
It is pleasing to eyes that only pray upon sunsets.
It is a thousand masterpieces; perfected.
I cannot hurry your authorship, for wind is at neigh and folly on the deck.
A thousand hungry scavengers await in lost calluses at bays end,
Like cavernous regions of our shoreline amidst Gaia’s sweetest affection.
Cower young souls, breath in foul punches of thine enemy,
Congruency only relays smartest on deftest of blokes.
Carry this lanyard on further, as wayward as you choose.
Off to the new races
With letters blurring,
I’ve been under and over
With two dollars to store.
Make my dear lover
Call two times at my door,
Make my dear lover
Two step ’round this floor.
Slow signs and bent leaves
Following, blowing in wind,
I walk to the new day,
Off to the races, away!
It was the night before,
And all he could hear
Was heartbeats flip-flopping
About wrinkled sheets
That just didn’t smell right.
I tempted my fate,
Believing in my firm footsteps
That wiggled and diggled
And figgled and biggled.
To where was my answer,
To whom was an impulse.
To lie by my lover,
To step foot in her hearth
That lay idle; upon
Yet so astray.
For merry was my wish
To Blondy and her fish,
Merry was an inheritance
That clothed itself in
100 year old furs
And danced around with glitter
To the steady beat
Of my leather soles
As I walked on further
Towards my fate
And an undying appreciation
Of the biggleding and figgleding.
It’s easy to fall in love at the grocer,
All of those melons and apricots,
And loose leaf teas.
I’ve actually smelled love
As I walked by the slow roasted coffee beans
They had especially imported from Argentina.
I’ve met a lover as I perused the cereal isle
Searching for a wheat free granola,
Lamenting at the fact they only had Cheerios and Fruit Loops.
I’ve yet to make love at the grocer though,
Carnal instincts among blueberries and yams.
I’ve almost been there,
Sitting amongst my pillows and a lover,
Nibbling on strawberries and freshly cut cheese on rice crackers.