|
 
Memories My love, I think you should forgive me; To remember this land is not a thought That is forbidden. There will always be A beauty in A land that breathed, a sky that shone, An earth that toiled supreme-soil, In its absence I was never alone, Curled and secure in its unbroken coil What is left, my memories I have to keep; The days pass through an acrid-overture Into an endless night. A dark-restless sleep On a heartless bed, palpitating its mother’s cure, A land that loses its heart, will lose its soul, A land that loses its roots, will not flower, Denied the promise of its functional whole, Open and insecure from its unstable tower. My love, we no longer have pure water streams; The birds have left us with a silent cry On a flightless-light. The hazy beams Obscure our eyes from the beauty of the sky; I cannot be forgiven for this perpetual cocoon, I am totally responsible for the part I play, And when light turns back to dark too soon My memories are for keeps, I may need them someday. 
Object Of Desire My object of desire Is naked by the fire, With curves so tight She’s a stunner alright; The need is to confer I cannot help but admire her; Her deep mediterranean tan Is stamped by her clan And she exhibits her charm With no need to embalm Just go easy she cries I am prone to your flies But I’m yours if you want If you remain nonchalant So, no advantage I took I remember that look As her mouth drips wine Like grapes from a vine; With Perfume so strong I cannot wait long Until I consume her beauty All sensual and fruity As the clock strikes ten She thought it safe when I can no longer resist This urge to persist So now is the time While the music’s sublime I don’t need to defer I’ll drain the nectar inside her 
Please Close The Gate The sign read “Please Close the Gate” The small boy observed With youthful defiance; Eyes drawn, shoulders erect He entered the forbidden garden, Closing the gate behind him 
It’s A nude enters my room I am familiar with her body; She holds two glasses of water The flickering window light Gleams fountain like On their chipped exterior; /*We drained our fluids the night before*/ A hesitant moment elapses as She offers me a drink, unsure if Our throats are dry from the night before …….. The Fat Man & the Bullimic I understand I am not perfect And my right is not to judge But the fat man on the opposite table Is the burden of my grudge He shovels in more fois gras Until his body will not budge, As he devours his last portion His bulimic bride turns to sludge
|
|
|
 |
