the audit

through corridors
taking audit
of every door
what’s behind them
i wonder
curious mind
in mischief
moving between
the echo.lips.stick
and i think it over
hand on my
Masters glove
i could open
these locks
in the blink
of a Love
i can just sneak in
and in
to the deep of you
and i can
just slip in
and in
to the sleep of you
and from up close
i can touch you
and hear
your mind
when you’re
not watching
because when
i’m the auditor
”...it’s you…”
who’s dreaming



he stays away
and i’m missin’ him
every day wishing more
that I was kissing him
and he knows my hips
ache to move in rhythm
to his every wish… so
nibble as much
as your
will allow…
and I’ll watch
your every move
and somehow
with the tip
of my pen
i’ll touch you there
and here again
until you begin
to feel
my tongue
in the groove
of a mischief too
because my dear
i want you here
between my lines
in front of my eyes
your glistening skin
giving me rise
to smile
to want
to play
to sin
and to be
.... just to be
with you


Fuzzy …
was he
a funny bare
or was he
a buzz
on a heady
either way
i do declare
great buns too
on Rapunzel’s chair
“can i sit here?”
“and rub you there?”
I thought I saw once
that I saw who cared
that I’d see twice
your fuzzy was he there
you’re just a bit nice
in a proper play
“and you might be bored
if the cat is away”


a restless light
thoughts of wrong
are what desire feels right
and I embraced the night
let me fall away
my haunts of passion
are a want of surrender
breaths of deep
turn slowly faster
a seductive presence
pretends the innocence
blinding thoughts
let me taste the essence
a splendor of lips
drip wet to taste his
temptation calls
in a mind of mischief…
all my thoughts fall
on a chest of breathless
and oh yes…I am
of the restless.



Hydro electric is a stick
of megalithic proportion
a distortion of the eyes
when looking too wise
knotting what’s able
unable to decide
what you see
when just right there
in the front of a 3
is a pair of WE in a smile
most appropriately a tone
moving feet to the beat of one

”... are you still listening, Mr. WattsOn?...”
It’s a flow in an energy of pattern
Say “hi” to a pro of reason
Earth is a sphere of season
So it goes to believe that
Spinning in Time I’ll bet
Is a treasure in a Nature, wet
For a bulge in A dam my pet…

...but it’s YOUR move…
I’ve thrown my bolt
into your lampshade, Love.


Monday I looked at the sky
Wednesday I wondered why
On Friday, I could almost fly
Considering, I was lost to know
A dam said “hi” to a hidden pro
Five is Five and Two…
On a 747 I knew
“Good” is on a gorgeous view
And I tried to say hi and hello
Wrote a poem just so he’d know
Chess is a messy game
Queen takes a Knight and reminds
She doesn’t leave a love note behind
For nothing.

She cast a line to amp a fish
She penned some stock to make a wish
She wrote on High in a hallowed dish
And she waits alone…
Still a mirror to this


936 T & T… ;) x
1872 …oh yeah. lol.



“who are you”

just go aWay
don’t want you to see
the real Woman in me
I’m not the kind
you want on your arm
I never am
and there’s never room.
It’s impossible
what I’m really here for
I’m ripped into two
as I face three doors
and I’m tired
yet wanting more
of this impossible task
as I come to shore.
To write the code
in Creations mark
without the flame
without the spark
“dear god, tell me
where on this earth”
do I find the start.
” I don’t want
to fight this time “

for the love of one
who can’t be mine.

so I won’t.
and not ever again
as I write my name
on a one dotted line.

”...I’ll come find you…”
is in an echo of Time.


Honey Color

water glistening
shadows my wall
reflections listening
”...I can hear…”
I can feel your call
”.... you move the music….”
and I’m pleased
”...you tease the midnight…”
and with ease
I’m swaying
as the breeze
and it’s brilliant
the enchantment
of your eyes
flickering light
along my seaside
I can breathe
and being tHere
I’ll believe
”...that it’s right…”
so write to me
on the honey
colored walls
and just to me
so by eve I’ll fall
embracing the lines
of a timeless art
coloring my world
sun set to start

”...the sun rises
as a perfect heart…”

and if nothing else
I’ll touch this part.

Omega d;

On The Island
along a coast
i heard a Sunset
say what most
seem to see
is a golden light
burning into red
just before night
So i followed you
and listened what
my eyes did dare
and caught it right
in the light just tHere
the shimmering flicker
of a whispering where
Silence on the cliff
Wind slows to hear
and together we waited
for a morning to share
and oh my god,
it was all so clear…
as darkness fell and
you held my fear
warm in your arms
just waiting…
for my sight to appear
and then hear…

”...Alpha burns right
when we’re upside, dear…”

Sunrise came…
and I kissed you there.


play baby…come on.
all you big boys
survey the toys
smooth the lines
and enhance the times
groping slowly in
eccentric rhymes
what a girl hears
in a yard of chimes
ding a ling is a really long sign…
and pings a ching as a sing.a.long line
“she laughed so hard
she split his side”
“he farted so loud
he blew her ride”
and all the stars stood
just rolling their eyes
366 revolutions in
365 days of solutions
... ” from the side baby,
come on…be real”
236 were the seconds counted
“he grows erect and
prepares to be mounted”

The Island

that Time never knew…
first near the Church
there seemed a clue
in the catacombes
of whispering hue
Saint Agatha’s mystery
became one for two
so i followed you
counting bricks in
narrow pathways
making note of the
arcs on display
Loving Couples blush
and bouganvilla sway
”...it’s very old here…”
and in the moss
I heard your name
echos of Lost
as I make my way
to a rocky coast
I past the Knight
and began to thirst
for the memory
of where my heart
came first…
then at a Red booth
I found my Muse

I'm Curiosus

August fools
gust for a lust
a thirst of just
what truth is first
“Mulder” is spooky
but a pretty smart cookie
“she called him Fox”
but he didn’t lookie…
greys the matter
she types in batter
and the fish
he chipped
is.way. ;)x

”...are you still laughing…?”

Knight the Butler said the Chef
A civilized relation of One do exist.
This is the Time and it’s the Measure
Means of One to Many a Treasure.
Bird songs of the same feather
weather storms of fright to light
the heather and again, come the
day we remember. Who we are.

I got your number.Gentleman. ;) WO!
you talkin’ to MOi?

Was a Sumer of sixty eight and
Mother said wait. So I did.
Earthly measure stares around
MY feet are a card in sound

”... the beat…”

a gui.duck you ask?

”...2036 was the year in question…”
and seconds later,
I had the impression
they mighta been speakin’ to me.

My Mother's Laugh

... happy birthday mom!....”
”...yea, I fidty two now…”
Then she started laughing, in a laugh that was only hers. Brother and I stood there staring in the wide eyed way we always did when she’d do this laugh and then like stereo, we look at dad. I was older than brother so I had the maturity to believe that perhaps dad might start laughing too any second now, but the look on his face was as clearly confused as ours. For the first time, I saw our faces on him and I remembered that. Like he just met my mother for the first time, ever… I could see from the corner of my eye that brother was about to eat into the cake as he simply didn’t care about our current family confusion any more…he was young.
Mom was still laughing.

It’s not a ‘soft and gentle laugh’ yet it’s not mean or hostile… it’s one of those
”... I’ve got all of you fooled and I’m not lettin’ ya in on it…” kind of laughs. We knew just to let it be and I wasn’t so old that the damn cake wasn’t looking more interesting to me right then too.

”...what do you mean?...” dad says in a very soft voice.
”...Ha! I always older then you…, I just dont tell you…” :))

He smiled and shook his head like it was slightly amusing…
”...I mo then 10 year older….”
was the last thing I heard before brother had pitchforked the cake and it was time to dig in, candles or not.



”...Rolling On the Floor Loving...”

” Rolling On the Floor, Love….”

ROFLove ….and all

what else

What else to do
but smile awhile
while I cry
some trials as
Life is but a dream
living lost in ‘be’
which cost of not
what my reality
used to see
yet what else…
do I want from me?
reward of Word
of a course I heard
my voice I could
and a soul of love
in the image of
a Creation came
in the form of Lord
and it harps a cord
Dr. God, is aboard
Why but what else
for the good…
To take a form
in a fourth of
two in the clear
Lines between
and we are tHere
when we are hear….
what else,
but self
to test
the a where…

unanswered and
I don’t understand.

In Garden Halls

ode to the PenUs
fallicall friend
call it a ball
in hand
in my garden
where i stand
growing, well
the expression
of ‘hard ons’
just a right type
of heart ons
decks I’ve spent
seeds men
and women
Gardeners fall
on their knees
digging weeds
nibbling peas
stroking leaves
honey nuts
that please
a pleasure
in the taste
of a bud.
Wiser is the guy sir,
who dr.inks a read.


oh lord...

Dear Lord,
I'm a bord cord
while i pourd and pourd
on the porage door
but oats became goats
and coats that float
it rocked my boat
so i went mute
Dear Lord,
it wasn't so cute
when you probed my lute
and unrobed in my suite
leaving nothing to guess
leaving tones of distress
leaving the ones a mess
while you stood near by
pointed finger to the sky

"..hey guys, I'm not on the nails..."

oh lord, some think like snails...
does it make any sense
if he sent his one sun
that'd we worship what we love
while it's nailed to our sins?

do your god some justice
and let the real image in.



purgatorium the moratorium
seldom do we hear them rhyme
the memorandum said its time
thirty three wells shut down…
drilling kills while it fills us up.
TheOis! Just what I said it’d be…
A very hard lesson by way of see
and it’s a process undeniably

”...do you pick your roses?...”

I cut them just before seed
Dad said, they’d keep blooming…
It’s the charm in the garden knowing
Just how to keep things growing
Extend the harvest for feeding
Stop the oceans bleeding and
Unite as one in the clearing a
Measure calls a Lion daring
An amusing muse, in deed…

”...purge a story honey…”
”... there’s an owl
on the face of the money…”
”...lazy are the many…”
and crazy are the few
who dare play checkers
in a gumbo stew…

Welcome, we’re in Limbo
Facing a truth growing below
“the nothing is coming”
as an under tow
”...We went through fire…”
”...it used to be water…”
death becomes matter
”...forgive them Father…”
blood is thicker
then the mighty dollar
when death becomes kin
they’ll think a bit faster…
a true and natural disaster
can happen as life in the after
purgatorius won’t be so glorious
if the ignition becomes a blade

This can be a heaven
and this can be a hell
even if we’re head on’
at the gates of a well

”... I’m waven…”
It’s the story of a venture
where the goods assure
that we’re not craven
the earthly treasures
we’re not deserving
lessons can be learned
in serving…
but who’s to say
what’s really worth earning
when treasures are measured
in things worth learning
and to purge a story
that can call a yearning
is to lead a Nation
to a heartfelt burning

”...we know the truth
is in what we’re not doing…”


yep thats right
she stood in light
while men in hoods
played rolls on floors
checker the color
of her black
and white board
she was adored
dads played song
and drank along
with a fresh cider
inside her paper
mug of cardboard
“honey remember”
dad was a member
and a splendor
of a club it was
built with bricks
in a color of tricks
secrets do stick
to the family
in blood
so drink your cider
play with spider
and remember
”...we’re not
the bad guys…”



in trusT it was said
intrusions of lipstick
on the top of a head
and upon the souls
of stars it was spread
remnants of ‘use less’
and ‘do more’ heard
“harmonizing in a
single word” and
showing what ‘for’ d;
was meant for first.

I Like

I like turbulent things
storms that howl
in thundering winds
and cracks of light
that I can see in
I like mystery
and intrigue too
I like it eyes open
and looking at you
I like minds spoken
and sharing views
but when it’s firm
it’s just us two.
I like to push
and be pushed back
I like to seesaw
on a one way track
running on empty
gaining no slack
... it drives me
exhausts me
and makes me
give up
but I like to cry
and see just what
I’m really made of
I like it in comfort
with pressure to know
I like it in heels
after wine and a show
I like a rough see
and I like to grow
...it calms me
knowing what
to expect
and I like showing
that I’m Nature’s pet
and I like my feet
in the sand when I’m wet
and I like my hands
on a man you can bet
...it turns me on
a turbulent see
and when I’m calm
it’s the other me
and when I’m wrong
you’ll never hear
a longer stance
then just before
“you’re right dear”
...but I’ll mean it.
I know what I’m like.

”...c’mon Professor,
I’m bord; ...”