Nineteen for a week,
None for the reaper.
Three for the girl winging her way into other people's memories;
Or were they really for the one whose words those wings have built
Because she lives?
Too many for my selfish self
And two more for my pride.
How many for nothing at all
But the sheer, utter joy of uttering joy?
Oh, but Death has had his day, you say.
But my fingers move not a scythe.
Oh, but somewhere meaning was lost in between one line and the next, you say.
But my mind saves logic for equations far less colorful.
If only there was more than this and that and all we've heard before, you say.
But my muse is

Not who you think you are!
A break in the day is all I ask;
Scant few minutes and you can go back to your friends and your gossipy communities and
Not safe for work careers.
A rip in the routine;
All my fidgety nonsensual saucery.
There's no need to ask why
I write.
Isn't it enough that you don't know what I'll say

Metaphorically streaking?

with fingers intertwined
we walked through the park
did you hear all the birds?
we needed no well-crafted dialog
did you see my smile?
we needed no lanterns, torches, flashlights
did you feel the night wind?
we needed no winter overcoats
without even a purpose beyond warming our palms
we walked hand in hand
do you remember?

Dipped hands into the crater lake,
I'm drinking the cold blue...

Delicious sight, my only love!
My pen at play.
Oh, yes, this watering hole for the synonym-starved.
This cavern of ice, translucent.
This lava tube in the side of Pele's throne.
Unleash your bitters, your sweets.
Where else can I find such fruit, spice, and pepper in the same dish,
Yet finish hungrier?
Unlace your undies and let the flesh breathe!
Create in my mind's eye those things usually only glimpsed at peak.
Failing the intricacies of seahorse valleys, at least show me a snowflake or two.
Fly me on leathery wings and illuminate my way with your bright eyes!
Don't let my thoughts dwell on a single isle in the midst of the lake,
Though it be the home of wizards;
I want to make my own magic.

Far from yesterday
Waste not wanting this to end
Granted handshake wishes I'm yours for the
Pull me into your heart
Treat me with surgeon's bathysphere
Cover myopic my hallowed sound
Canticles can't icicle fresh - they're forgotten sideliners
Guilt in gold, the domes enclose
Not ghosts, no. Win ever you play
You will loose the dogs of
Forged in steely eyes wandering two paths
Unknown
Overgrown with scissorhand hairstyles
Watching out gubernatorial wills legislating in the aisles
Baked s'mores over hot tin roofs
Blown tornado uppercut
Really kicks me in the
Shins and grits
Just a way of turning pages between my ears

There's a hole in the world
Where once shone a smile.

Secret heart,
Burning.

I never saw her
Until words were spoken
Over her head.

I never lay beside her
Until she was written
Into the living journal.

I was never touched by her
Until her hands were crossed
Over her heart.

Secret smile
Shining.

There's a soul in the sky
Where once dreamers saw stars.

Some are called
Voices first heard in anger
Replayed between sobs
An end to it all
Whispered by unseen friends
Shouted over glaring red and blue
Accompanied by laughter
By slaughter
Of the soul

Some are beaten
Down by the fates
The most loving
Drafted into the ranks
By physicians' words
By heartfelt prayers
By last rites
Given before the first pain is felt
Of the war within

Some sing out
Every moment of every day
The child unworldly
Seen only in passing
Skipping across mountain peaks
Without a goodbye
Cut

Death traps
all great loves
in the moment when
a kiss on
what once was only a child's cheek
becomes the proof of resurrection

until,
after a hundred summer night lifetimes,

ginger snaps
up every fine thing
with only a word
of friendship
at the very moment
when friendship means death
of intimacy and tender touches
remembered after all the pain
the kisses could not cure.

Straight flush right down the toilet of lost dreams; childhood screams for escape!
I love to use sentences that aren't quite sentences like that girl, not the tall one!
It's a liberating feeling, really. You can start out on your back porch and go straight edge or French curve, depending on mood.
There are no limits in the realm of English verse. Well, any language, if you happen to grok it in the fullness.
Why stay in between the lies, anyway? Why, when it's so much more funicular at the Royal Gorge. We couldn't go across the bridge that day, though, because of highlighting passages she loved in in her favorite book.
I could be crazy enough to take you all the wayside by I-20 with David, Christie, Brenda, and Norris. We played Mario Bros. with terrible hang gliders running off the cliffs overlooking Black's Beach.
It doesn't really have to make sensational sense machine closed down, but the building was still useful for making out on breaks or smoking jays at in-park partitions of unity are only guaranteed if the paracompactness condition is satisfied.
See? You have no idea where I might go next door to help Val clean out her garage.
Don't let the grammar nazis fool you. There's more to writing thanatos, twin of hypnos, the personification of dealing straight flushes.

Should I go into another dream?
Lose myself in fantasy when being in the now is so important?
Do I even have a choice?

There wasn't one, but three.
The tall one, the one with long hair, and the one who called me dumb.
I kissed the one with long hair.
We shared home room, Terry and I.
Her eyes were warm and green,
A perfect pair to go with her soft voice.
Melted my heart. Told me I made her nervous
In a good way.
Said that she'd never let anyone see her poetry before.
Better than mine, that's for sure.

Her words; whispered in my ear in the backyard, whispered in spiral notebooks, whispered in the darkness of the park;
Touch me.
Her eyes; spring leaves at play in a northern wood.
Her hands; bringing life to the piano on stage after class, taking my breath after sundown on a school night.

Her words; receding, fading, hiding behind the years;
Touch me.

What's the square root of you?
I heard her ask.
Distracted, you see. Looking out the window.
Girls playing hopscotch.
I don't remember much more than that, but still wonder
Why I was looking out
When she was right there beside me.

I lost my hearse!
I heard her yell.
Distracted again. Watching traffic while leaning into a turn.
A woman in a sleek, red something.
I can't tell you why the thought of red lips in a red car
Seemed so inviting
When her arms were holding me so tightly.

Oh, God, Roger. Just a little beeper!
I heard her gasp.
Distracted for the last time. Sharing a lemonade at the food stand.
Polyester uniform, black tag, brown hair.
I shouldn't have let it bother me; I shouldn't now, but it's only
During those fleeting moments of clarity that I recall
When your smile was meant for me.

e
for effort
i heard that somewhere once
all i ever got was
i
incomplete thoughts
speling errors
Capitalization in inappropriate places
run-on sentences fragments grammatical clusterfuck
okay they never used that word
but even that would have been better than
f
or d- or even c+
at least it would have said
you tried
but what the hell can i do with
i
?
that only means there's more work to do

Fallacies and fricassees and faculties
Lounging in the back rooms;
Far away from the kids,
Far away from responsibility.
Don't even try to understanding comes slowly.
With exotic, esoteric eschatologies knocking down your door,
You don't even need my penny-ante ramblings.
Sew, Y Я U still reading?
There, but for the Grace, Space Ace.
I'm bored, too.

After all, there's no one I'd rather see again than
Your once upon a time.
There's no greater love than that between
Paisley and Chantilly lace.
There's no higher calling than to fight for
The lasting impression.
There's the the and the who and the
WTF are you talking about?
I'm talking about the birds and the bees and the flowers and the
You.

Funny thing, that word of three letters.
Second person, singular.
Neuter in the mother tongue,
But implied feminine in this poem anyway.
I'm not really making a connection, though, amirite? So, I'll just take a
Right where the calendar's wrong.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Ten.

All your base
Are belong
To all that was and all that is and all that ever will be
Cool.

The Fool follows his misstep over the ledge
Into never knowing who pushed him
Over and under and all around the house
Of pain and pleasure in two dimensions.

1440x900 and so much more shallow than
Flatscreen implies.
Interwebs and worldwideLOLs,
All wrapped up in listening to tracks
Shared (what a funny way to put it) between peers.
Peering into coed dorms built in LA warehouses,
Voyeurtastic asswipe LOLcat voxchat-
Where's the grass I used to feel between my toes?
Where's the creek I caught crawdads in?
Where's the girl I once kissed?
Google doesn't know.
Youtube won't show.
Pirate Bay can't go
There.

The Way is not the Way is not-
Give me all your good words;
I have none of my own.
Give me all your I hearts and scream cheese and welly wells.
Give me all your yesterdays and save your tomorrows for a rainy day.
I have no need for the Other right about now.
Write about then.
Freeze time in the screenshot, live a life that smiled with a young girl's face,
Bring her back so the rest of us can see
What she saw in the way your hand
Touched Joey's face.
Just for once, let the Way that can be written
Be enough.

Wordplay
On a sunny day
When I should be far a-
Thought you knew what I would say?
How about another try
At figuring out why
The perfect girl with the perfect guy
Still says a little white-
Come on, you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?
Over hill,
Over dale.
Let's hit the dusty-

good god y'all
where have all the young men gone?
gone to deserts blooming blowing flowing
with blood and guts and rutting strutting corpsmen
young, dumb, and full of cumin; fumin' and boomin'
groomin' the brides for ridin'
stone'em! bone'em! but don't even try to throne'em;
dem wemmun's shud be inna kichin fichin da chikin
fer da menfoke
donchano?

Great Roman aqueducts...

Stew on that for a minute.
Okay, now. Next-

The Ramesseum...

Ooh, yeah, me too.
Una mas, por favor-

Angkor...

Now, that's Wat I call big.
Wait a minute...wait a minute...again-

The Forbidden City...

Talk amongst yourselves.

Ready?

Set?

Build!

Wherein lies
The prize if the ayes
Have it?

Wherefore art thou
Romeo if you don't know
Family from foe?

Whence comes love
If not of pity or this little ditty
Or even a snow white turtle

backsliding in the foreground
ghosting lurking smirking surfing
couchsurfing with remote in hand

framed by gold filigree barristers
barring all possible recriminations
obfuscations
justifications of cannibal nations
rational factions nevertheless putting babies in traction

warring whoring boring
for oil and other poisonous foils
conjunction junction
what's your major malfunction?
there's no cure for the summertime news

Cutting grass with fingernail clippers,
Seeing through Dr. Pepper-colored glasses,
Waging war with Wiimotes;
It's all a teenage wasteland.

Fucking `cause you're bored,
Calling `cause you're jealous of every female that breathes,
Kicking some guy's ass because your girlfriend won't shut up;
The kids are alright.

Shooting up in the Taco Bell restroom,
Snorting at the bar after-hours,
Smoking some crystal in the garage before Mommy comes home;
The music is your special friend...

Until the end.