Puncture wounds

Danger drip, and damage creep.
Snakes will hiss, the stingers buzz.

The life I touch will one day weep.
Poison is as poison does.



Inspired by a comment from Cocaine Jesus in an earlier post.

To look too far to see...

I want to stand on a hill in Scotland.
Freedom of infinity all around.
Spread my arms and breathe the purity.
Hear the wind and look too far.

There, where
all I can
give is myself,
I would ask
to not be
alone.

Gift.

A bubble of crystal
Ready to burst.
To wander and wonder
Forever cursed?

Seems that way.

Anger stored,
never displayed.
For fear of hurting
innocent,
free of sin.
Except for one -
Of friendship with
delinquent!

Lucky...? Un...?

A near one, a dear one,
Easy to blame.
Background at fault,
As per its fame.

Today's 'cause yesterday.

Look near, look far
To find a reason.
A rock, a star,
Sun spots, maybe the season.

Why???

No cosmic cause, no super-villain,
No battle of titans to close this scene.
Just one who's wasted this gift of life.
Its me, its me... always been.

"gift" is poison in Deutsch.

Truism

Art is like a cat. You do not adopt it, it adopts you.

Creation's cost

I look upon my work
And I, myself, despair.
The fire, I recall feeling
While, that very work, creating,
Seems, somehow, lost.
Was it creation's cost?

Inspired fire
Fire flare
Flared despair
Despair inspires...

It is a cycle ridden by an idiot.

One

One sat atop a mountain.
One climbed up the mountain.
One asked,
"What do you seek?"
One replied,
"To know what I seek."
One asked,
"Why are you here?"
One replied,
"To know why I’m here."
One asked,
"What do you feel?"
One replied,
"How do I feel?"
"You don’t know?"
"How to feel."
"Let yourself feel."
"How?"
"To feel you must be free."
"To free, I must feel."
"Do you seek to feel?"
"Must I feel, to know?"
"Have you no answers?"
"Have you no questions?"
"Life is a question."
"Is death the only answer?"
"Life is the answer."
"How?"
"I have no more."
"I climbed this mountain."
"This is a molehill."
"The effort?"
"Is within you."

One sat atop a mountain.

image: Pablo Picasso

Truism

The most difficult thing to know is oneself.

Walk barefoot

Burning shower on the back.
A starving puppy knits the brow.
A sumptuous meal – wet mouth (Smack!).
Sigh at Western clouds' glow.

A cool breeze stands hair on end.
Memories from tingling nose.
Grit the teeth should a fender bend.
Clutch the grass with the toes.

The tenth muse...

Is the lack of inspiration
In itself a muse?
Should I take a canvas, blank,
And put it to some use?

With naught to say and not a thought
But an itch to write,
Should I put my readers through
My mind's uneasy plight?

I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored...
This is rather kitsch.
I've made you read some utter rot,
Man, I am a bitch!

:)

Truism

Inspiration is like opportunity. Snooze, you lose.

Love is cotton candy

Love is complicated
Glorified, berated.

Love is the tender smile
From a friend, unseen in a while

Love is the spasm
From a shiatsu orgasm

Love is the embrace
When a spouse's fallen in grace

Love is in the tip
Of a dear dom's whip



Love's the forbidden look
From behind a lecher's book





Love's the heady feeling of soaring
While undressing your partner, who's snoring.

Love may be illegal
When tied up, spread-eagle.



Love is sex, some say.
Not when you must pay.







Actually, love's quite simple.
Have a look; it's that someone's dimple.


Inspired by a conversation

Tear-soaked rims

Grilled for ages: compromise,
sacrifice!
Selfishness, the height of vice!
What to do about the eyes
that cry,
if I live for me, myself and I?

image: http://www.bigfoto.com

"
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
"



image: www.nyclondon.com
words: Robert Lee Frost

Soon...

She’s not well.

Almost chronic for a while
After a point, attempts futile.

No point.

She’s not well.

Logic knows inevitable.
Options unavailable.

I’ll miss her.

She’s not well.

She gave so much.
We were good together.
Made for each other
and such.

She’s not well.

Soon...

Hug!

No chocolate or sugar candy.
Perhaps a hug will come in handy.
In a world of rock and stone,
Remember that you’re not alone.





Inspired by:Ties

www.JohnHarveyPhoto.com

Ink and Paper

We write letters


to keep thought flowing,
to not lose track.

Not go off
on a tangent
stick to matter,
however pungent.

We write letters

to veil uncertainty
betrayed in quivering
tones, modality.
Listener’s watching,
listening.







Readers don’t have that effect.

We write letters

to say the embarrassing.
Ink, paper dress
things of the heart
that require dressing.

We write letters.