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D R U C H N I A K

porter watchs the glass
a night of seamless visage
interrupted by the clatter
of carriage trucks hammering
across the bolted joints

My pretti charge
you rest upon the pulled down
bed while the world slips past
behind the blinds

the coach rolling through a world
pursuing a dream
and against my chest in handcraft
leather by a babushka of talent
is the mouth of the wolf
sleeping with hand tooled grips
dazzle pearl that I let you
examine the chambers open

I missed it

I missed the point by being naïve
That was long ago in time past
When I resolved to be honest
Straight and trusty in my dealings
This great step passed commendation
But lacked the tact in rough weather
When wolfs from dark shadows
Stalked unsuspected passers by
I became the easy game hunt
A victim’s mentality sown
In the head of a full blown man
You broke the law of the council
By hauling eggs in one basket
Trusting too much in what you hear
Or doing what you considered right

All the Love Locked in Your Heart

The bosom of God heaved
with breath
and like Adam I was cast out
searching for the proverbial Eve;
from the bones of my ancestors
I succumbed,
and the Garden grew in my absence.

I was unwary of evil,
knew nothing of temptation,
all my geese were tamed and blind;
they left no shadows in the sky.

We are here, absorbing the sun
while denying the moon
and her light
let it be,
just let it be.

Return for the first time,
there is love locked in your heart.

Visions In The Fire

Visions In The Fire

I sense a culmination
in close approximation
it brings a shudder
this sensation
of expected expiration
like embers glowing
in the campfire
soon to burn out
like dying note of
polished lyre
I note the winds have changed
carrying smoke
and defoliated leaves
with the changing season
my heart grieves
and yearns for
lost days gone by
the ghosts that fly
in the face of
our awaited tomorrows

The Valedictorian

She was a sooner-cum-loudly,
the top of her class,
genuine guttural groans
when I'd smack on that ass

and like any boy scout
I was always prepared
when she wanted it done
no level was spared

I'd slow down the roll
like the rest of us should
so I wouldn't let go
till she was all good

... and with a sigh of relief
flipped my hat in the air
I graduated with honor
at the college of Claire.

L U C I D U M .. I N T E R V A L L U M

there are wafers of dust hope
clinging to the torn nylon pockets
Neon green bottles with milligram
trips

perfume amber sweet and mysterious
noxious serpent that winds and wends
its way about the nocturne night flesh
of your throat

dream constrictor
rush of headlamp hypnotic
tremble when the ash of
the hit settles like the grey
soot on our savaged ruins

footprints in silence
you lead me
turning back
with that brow
fallen

the wet spark
flickering in that
dark soul

GoinGoing,Gone

Going , Going, Gone

Going is the present
fading into the past

Going is the past
fading into the present

Thought rides the high winds
Being tossed and thrown into both

Gone is the future
It no longer lives

It's diabolical laughter
ringing through my fears

Gone the reality
of unending dream

Ghostly images paled by light
returning only in the dead of night

Taunting, haunting going on
tempting me to do what is wrong

going going going
Till I'm gone

My Sonny Days

It doesn't take a holiday,
or any special time of year;

in fact, nothing "external"
what I love, or my worst fear;

coerces me to "feel" this way
I see no "rainbows", or "chirping birds",

over my years of writing continuously
I still fail to find those words!

Every "t" I cross, or "i" I dot
fail in the "mechanics", as on I write;

but, because of you, I persevere;
I want you to know, with all my might!

Confess

Confess, my love
I swear I was always right
I held in my arms, the one and only source of light
You will, you will; be what’s always wrong with me
And I will, I will; change what I can see

Confess, my heart
Was torn all apart
In your hands you held, my one and only love
You will, you will; be the end of me
And I will, I will; break internally

And when your sky comes crashing on you
Will you reach for me, or one of your loves?
And I said, “I can love no one, but you”
Believe me, I am true…

A Swans Gannet..

A Swan’s Gannet…

Back then in a year called seventy four,
we just about knocked on heavens door.
Because heaven isn’t that bloody far away,
and it sure isn’t what the christians say.
No heaven is right here on this earth,
it’s a state of being it’s what you're worth.

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