tremulous notes

 a kind of noble rot,

the wormwood works

winding wordlessly

thru the ear,

in a cellar deep,

deeper below,

the wild promises

passion beckoning,

so so so quiet, lips like ever slowly licking,

like this...like this...we like it, we do.

Hidden meetings, deepest farther,

a kind of choice is made, for all the others.

Finally, the wine is popped

the dress lingers in the shadows

tomorrow floating on some rack.

A contrast landscape

every green imaginable,

the perfect space and distribution of life.

a kind of beautiful thing,

a kind of harmonious sound,

a kind of idyllic course,

a kind of bio bless;

i am wound wordless

stricken and lovely now.

silent prayer

 i know i know

tomorrow comes again;

I am i am, tomorrow

unless no, more, now.

All else, less us, all us

But again; i am i am

tomorrow no more.

All else less us fail, fail.

Beyond tomorrow

Forever yesterday, today.

after the rain

in the desert a natural puddle forms from the rare rain, and all the living know this represents the ability to survive until the next one.

birds will bathe in the winter morning

as the sun breaks through the clouds

that are blown by dry wind and sky.

this momentary oasis can be nestled in the shadow of some ancient carved out cliff,

rocks that remember they were once submerged.

some weird root, clawing and clasping across the craggy land

inches slowly forward to sip.

in the end it will be the leftover stuff

from everything that had drank and touched and played,

perhaps down close, as close as possible, one could hear the last drop

evaporate away.

pivot fool

 The side in the sun .

At the football match .

Didnt know .

But im warm, And its better.