Looks like tomorrow I'll come
With not more but my life
To show, unlike before when love
Can never be seen gazing
Along horizons of the oceans.

I'll sail across a thousand-mile
Latitude and prove me not wrong,
Setting my sights on tomorrow
Where I can see your distinct smile
Guiding me across the pitfalls of dreams.

TWO DAY HIGH

Met only yesterday, unsettled the train:
Two-Day-High, hope we’re meeting again…
Dylan and Cohen and Bobby McGee,
Two-Day-High, you sure were like me.

Speak to the heart
Of a dying man
Corroded by the words
Said in gradual
Discourse.

In a strange hour
He will be freed.
The flask of his thoughts
Stained
And emptied.

There are times when I see you
Yearning from the shadows
For my thoughts and touch.

I reach for you, try to feel
The warm and soft gestures
Of your rosy skin,

Feeling the ample texture
Embedded deep within
Your subtle being

Captivates me completely;
Drives my senses crazy,
Bites me intensely.

I surrender to your moans.
Pour out my obsession
To all your love bones.

Going through the motions day in day out
Trying to break away pulled back
Each day seems the same
Same faces
Same drive
Same conversations
Day in day out routine has taken away my freedom
Where do i stand
When my heart yearns out to be more
When my passion feels entombed
Caged wanting to tear loose
Start again, a new chapter.
One i can rewrite with a new path
Knowing where i stand.
But for now i remain wondering ....
Where do i stand

Rhythm beat melody passion the heart the soul
A being given into a sound that echoes from the heart
Songs that have no beginning but will never end.
A tideless flow that will never cease to end.
I bury my being in a single song
eyes closed falling deeper and deeper
the words surging over me caressing my heart
Peace washing away all other thought
Nothing but notes cords melodies rushing through my head
my being encased lost in songs that speak of things lost
Songs now forgotten
But still the music lives through my soul

I lay my soul
To rest
After all of
The grief
And turmoil.

It is done.
The heart is tired
And the spirit
Is weak.

I shall stand aside
And let reckoning
Take its toll.

To you my dear,
The shadow
Of this clenched fist.

I came from nowhere
In my dream
Or should I say,
Nightmare; but things
Are a lot smoother.

The pit I have dug in
Came forth with flowers
When I woke up.

Life's but a shallow grave
In the tomb of reality.

.
.
BLUE JEAN BOY

all those words
in your head-
why were they
never said?
you weren’t sure,
is that why-
were you just
far too shy?

now she’ll never
get to know
of the love
you didn’t show:
of the thoughts
kept inside,
feelings you
tried to hide-

yet, you lived
for those nights
when you’d be
by her side-
there was no
greater joy
than those nights
that she called you
her blue jean boy…

hard-ass bleachers

stranded in the bleachers
show is playing out

batter in batter’s box
pitcher winding up for the throw

get that ketchup off my hotdog
smother it with mustard
hold the onions, too

ball twists its way to the plate
batter swings and misses
umpire says, “Strike one!”

crowd is restless
I order another cold one
pitcher’s smug grin
reads catcher’s signal
and throws once more
umpire says, “Strike two!”