Miscellaneous

Store teller’ with aqua green eyes’
You are a peacock whom royally, hides
Her royal plumage in disguise,
Your cinnamon skin
Holds a lotus flower, within,
Your peachy warm, smile

Enrolada's response...Enrolada = Time Waster, Procrastinator type...

Little spotted trout
Gliding on the riverbed
Water splashing sound.

My mind is a desert
A barren wasteland
Parched and empty of thought
Except for a lonely idea
Flashes through and disappears again
Tumbleweed in the distance.
Occasionally a thought appears

My dearest Mother,

the door is closed
my eyes are shut
no more light
i am cut
once again
just like before
dont know why
just hit the floor
rose is dead
thorns are there
sticking out
everywhere

the windows to ones life
insight of all around
colors of the rainbow
seeing all the sound
quite as can be
feeling of the wealth
sees the true and false
seeking for ones self

sun shining brightly
gazing all around
trees bestow a shawdow
clutching to the ground

clouds are here and there
with the sky so blue
listen to the birds
thy're singing to you

lost with in your feelings
not with in the world
what are your feelings
your feelings are the world

what is this world
the world you feel
what's in this world
what in it's real

lost and confused
stuck in a spot
need defused
wonder why not

hiding the feelings
still on the shelf
bare with the dealings
hiding yourself

afraid to speak out
uncomfortable

who am I
why am I here
what am I
why is there fear

what is my purpose
why was I born
where is my surface
where is my thorn

where am I at
where am I from
how am I that

Hook Up

The feeling snaked through my
Blood first slow and cautious
As on the hunt, then swift as
For the kill it struck and I was
Flooded, drowning in the lust

Why does she come shadow crawling up my spine.
Doesn’t she realize I’ve served a necromancer’s time?
Melancholy is a thistle a rose garland in black holy

It's not always sunny in Andalucia

'Get in, get out. Don't linger. Go on'. Raymond Carver on why he wrote short stories and poems and not novels in "On Writing," it is included in "Fires: Essays, Poems, Stories" (Harvill Press) .

What The mirror sees

I hate the Winter so I'm always looking for that first sign of Spring. I know I'm early but...

"But in historical reality, Epicurus did not advocate sensuous pleasure; he was far more concerned with the attainment of tranquility (ataraxia)."

Although he is a handsome creature,
poodle bitches still glare proudly at him.
Tail in any case like an ohmmeter needle,
genitals a pendulum,

A little poetic whimsy