In the wee of the morning
allowed to just reflect

'tis yesterday's 'morrow
I don't know what to expect.

I can actually hear the lamp bulb
can truly feel my thoughts;
whichever limb I fix on.

Under yesterday's shadow
a weary attitude,

I literally played my harp, out
not a lot to conclude.

So I stretched out with my mind
reached past of what I know
beyond the limits that I fix on.

The 'morrow is nigh
I reached out, yesterday;

There things that only women do
Some men boast of what they can do
Do not laugh at what I have to say
How would you describe a normal day?
Let us divide the chores in the household
See what portion you may claim to hold
Who does the cleaning and sweeping?
Who does the cooking and washing?
Lest, on menial things, the master’s time is wasted
For such, the children’s usefulness is tested
Is it the woman who runs the house?
While the man claims to own the house
Is it the man who deceives the woman?

The crescent moon hangs bright
in the sky
which I admire

Getting in my car, sore
it's really cold 
nursing one eye, a tooth, a leg, an elbow

Lifting bad leg, inside
to follow in step, nearby
the other, little past eight, tonight 

Its not too late
slow in pace, no haste
holding back irritation

Letting it go
never show
or give another thought

Enjoy crescent moon's shine
a  shiner tonight, hanging high 
in the dark evening skies

I find the moments of my life
invariably filled with strife
are caused by those who are hell-bent
on making others malcontent.

They lay their futile helpless rage
on those they think they can enrage,
and thus drain all of their own ire
by fueling others' angry fire.

Once I would have let them do this,
make me so intensely furious
that I would inevitably snap,
and make them eat their own damn crap,

through the hour
the minutes drip
like rain from
easing branchs

translucent images
inverted
stretching to free
themselves
in brilliant spheres
like stars in a ballet
radiant beauty
caught in the glare
of the charmed lamps
the satin shinning
the strata skirts
white as snowflakes
weaving poising

wavelength blown
winds infused
with haunted
decadence

i envy the woman whose lips
your ample mouth has gently kissed
whose very look enslaves your soul
i ponder yet all i have missed

i envy her still whose arms
press you to her breasts so tenderly
who shares your secret hopes and dreams
and keeps your fire burning steadily

i envy the woman whose bed
your long lean body slumbers in
forgive my heart*s dear love desires
that which others consider a sin

You scribbled in bits and pieces
As parchments and on the scrolls
Of a heart so full of love
In this kind of affection
Some say, love is blind
So you stomached everything
All in the name of love

The innocent begs the guilty
For forgiveness from what I know not
I see disappointments, unrealized hopes
Tucked away in dreams of nothingness
While you danced with exhilaration
To the savage slavery flute of the piper

Test

You say we should float together
somewhere
above our bodies
interred but grounded,
you wax poetic
sometimes
while you hold me
in your organic embrace

rising,

I say we're just moonbeams,
you say
you wouldn't be one if you had to give
up your dick,
I laugh out loud,
and wonder if life isn't
one long orgasm,
with the untidy event
of living by the books
thrown in its way.

I took a mini-journey
on the night that was before,

it came my way
through shadows, grey

appearing startling, at my door !

~

Abruptly, I put pen to page
so I couldn't get it wrong,

I had to write
into the night,

to catch serendipity's song.

~

Suddenly, transpiring
in a most peculiar way,

in a blinding flash
our hearts did crash,

a song neither of us could play.

~

She was of lines, that took us down
each pathway, effortless;