Only the harsh wind can open this blossom, the city the cement gray sky bringing out the red, yellow, and orange of the petals, its people The city, a morgue, no movement in its capillaries suddenly pumps to life its breath, hot and muggy, a…

Quote for The Golden Shovel form: “theres a dance in the old dame yet” from don marquis’ archy and mehitabel by now you really ought to know theres ways and means to this getting along a willingness to dance when it may turn out wrong…

When we took on the world it was just us two Hard to believe we’d trod so many roads Hard to believe that our paths have now diverged We had the perfect journey to believe in It started with sunlight so bright in lights of…

Inside out   Don’t tell me to love you inside out   when she lingers on your tongue, but your tongue spells my name.  

It’s one of those nights when I try to forget you (when I try to set free the stars of your memory)   The ink flows and speaks of you   you become my muse   And I’m left with a notebook full of you….

So now you look at me like you never knew How could you not? I speak the way I’ve always spoken  Dress and walk and posture the same  I saw the same affections as ever There has been no reason to question me, never  You…

Swaying lightly in the breeze, hang her tendrils. Ivy, green, they reach all the way to the dusty, forest floor.   Her mighty oak branches, dressed in mosses and ferns are beautiful, no doubt, but it’s her verdant hair that enamors me more.        

We don’t fight anymore but we should. I miss the passionate heavy breathing, fire in our bellies, struggle to keep ourselves, our love alive. Why did we stop fighting? Just quit. Gave up. Let go.   Please fight with me again. Push my buttons, say…

We sneaked into an old  abandoned gym   alone with the dusty equipments surrounded by Grey floor, cream walls and rustic windows   I was on the bench press when I saw your face upside down   you helped me lift a heavy iron barbell…