A Widows Wake

Dawn.
Another lonely awakening to the mornings dew,
Another breakfast for but one, not two,
Another sleepless night and restless morn,
Another one less suit with tie not worn:
For one suit that still remains on he,
Is on my love who sleeps eternally,
Swallowed by the hand they call the sea,
Off the coast of Dead Mans Plea.

The birds hath not sung a brighter tune,
The dogs hath not howled under the half lit moon,
The trees hath not sway to natures song,
The road hath not taken seems but twice as long:
The laying of flower petals off the misty shore,
A step off the bow, sank to the ocean floor,
I find myself a knocking on heavens door,
To join my husband, my love, forevermore.

Acrylic Archangel

All was in Darkness...
Then, within the midst of blackness -
a perpetual light deprives the hollow spawns
kingdoms of Depression and Loathsome envy.
Buried amongst sleeping pictures,
A noble renaissance figure arises in valor,
only to finish that, what has already begun.

Etched in sandscript, an Angel,
Branded by Edens beauty and Cupids good fortune,
Opens up her apocalyptic wings, spread-eagle,
And love unleashes upon Berlins barriers,
Destroying the lost realms beyond all conscious comprehension.
As silence bestows over the parted debris,
Tranquility infills the cup with satisfying deliverance.

Ai, my heart, misshapen in petrified wax,
molded by the color spectrum of time,
separating Zodiacs signs with those stars of the heavens
that encircle the Earth, belongs to she,
whose painted fingers grasp, and brought to purse lips,drinks to our eternity.

A Feathered Image (The Imaginary Eagle)

As upon this page,
I can think of a cliff on a mountain top,
The fluttering of wings takes to flight,
As the cold chill of the wind's air
Breezes past the feathered body
That coasts along the ocean floor.
It soars into the heat of the sun on top of the clouds above
Watching the ocean seas as they drift along
In small easy waves.
Is that the eyes of an eagle
Watching through those clouds above?
Then within a flap of a wing
The eagle disappears into the clouds of imagination
Never to be seen again,
Unless this poem has been read once more.



***This was the very first poem I had ever written back when poetry was first introduced to me by my 7th grade English teacher Mrs. Lambert back in 1992/1993 who recognized my work and inspired me to write more, and I'm very grateful to this day that she did***

GTF Outta My Way

I gotta run,

I got places to be,

Girls to fuck,

And friends to meet,

I see every street

As my own fucking street.

So if you’re in my way,

Don't fuck with me,

If you cut me off,

Then you'll see,

That's the last place

That you will want to be...

'Cause I’m nut short,

My leg a foot long,

Hard on the gas,

I'm gonna steer this car

Up where it don't belong,

I'll ram it up your ass,

So next time signal you fucking jackass!

And I yell:

Hey!

Get the fuck outta my way

This is what I say

It’s not your day.

Outta my fucking way -

Hey!

Did you hear what I say?

I said it’s not your day.

This is not your day.

So outta my fucking way!

I'm in the bar,

Getting drunk,

You’re in my way,

What the fuck?

You staring at me?

I think I'm going to have to knock you down...

You better have friends,

'Cause I got mine,

I see your six -

To my nine,

I like those odds,

And no I'm not that fucking kind.

So did you wanna go?

Or you wanna stay?

But if you do -

Get the fuck outta my way

Whatcha waiting for?

Are you gonna cross that line?

I'm gonna lose my fucking mind!

So I say:

Hey!

Get the fuck outta my way

This is what I say

It’s not your day.

Outta my fucking way -

Hey!

Did you hear what I say?

I said it’s not your day.

This is not your day.

So outta my fucking way!

Final warning:

Outta my way,

Seriously, fuck,

You’re in my way,

Why the fuck do you

Insist on holding me back....

I will count to two,

And then on three,

You'll be down,

Looking up at me,

With one good eye

And then it will be the last thing that you will see.

You should have backed down

What did I say?

If you would only get

The fuck outta my way,

But for fuck's sake,

You didn't even hear nor listen

To what I even had to say -

And I said:

Hey!

Get the fuck outta my way

This is what I say

It's not your day.

Outta my fucking way -

Hey!

Did you hear what I say?

I said it’s not your day.

This is not your day.

So outta my fucking way!

Fruits vs Vegetables.

    In this garden of life we now live in, we tend not to stop and reflect upon certain issues that may or may not have any bearing on our lives. Like this question for starters - I had someone ask me about what fruit or vegetable am I? Being a meat eater I scoff at the organic and granola eaters of the world not because of their alternative lifestyle, but because they are usually a bunch of whiny, sandal wearing, stinking hippies. Or Gay. I haven't decided. But nevertheless the question remains and I reflect:

  

    To answer the question of which type I would be, based on pure manliness I would say banana. But I do eat carrots all the time, not that I am a rabbit, because I would be pretty huge and the only one of my kind at six foot one. But carrots are cheap (like $2 for a bag of carrots), And It gives me great night vision like a fox, but not a fox, because they eat rabbits, which I am not.

  

    So my answer would be pears. They are sweet, delicious, and ripe...but for only one day... before they quickly turn on you. And if you turn your head to look away, even for a moment, they ripen and mature past their prime, leaving you with a bitter taste in your mouth. Also, if you eat them before that time, you will get the same result. Wait a minute, screw them, pears are jerks, and that I am not.

    Peaches have some femininity about them, references to being a Georgia peach, or maybe even unlocking the hidden treasure between a females thighs that men desire. Come to think of it, you can exclude cherries, strawberries, raspberries (pretty much all berries) for the same reason. Although for us men, our manhood is referenced as twig and berries, but coconuts better suit this purpose. Or Kiwi's. No, not the nickname for the people of New Zealand, because a citizen of - I am not.  

    Melons in general will never be relieved of the comparison to the other part of female anatomy, which, by coincidence, happen to be my favorite fruits to eat. And just like the fruit, melons are just as nice, firm and round as their female counterparts. And if you surveyed a group of men regardless of race or age, I believe that all would agree. Even the homosexuals. Which I am not.

    Although speaking of homosexuals, they do refer to the group as "fruits." So due to this realization I would have to be a vegetable of sorts but which one? Romanesco sounds too exotic as well as Kohlrabi, Salsify, Sunchoke or even Artichoke for that matter. Kale is right out. That also goes for anything "leafy" like cabbage or lettuce including all sprouts. Nuts I'm allergic too so I'm definitely not that. I guess I would have to be the lonely potato. Don't be fooled, the potato makes some pretty cool things like vodka, fries, and chips, and the fact that their awesome! Like I am.