Poem ~ Eyes on Venice (The Beast Within: 13th Anniversary Edition)

Life is here,
the time is now.
The milk for cheese comes from the cow.
But it must age,
as so must we…
So that we may keep climbing up life’s rough tree.

Hands together and hands apart;
so far away but always close to my heart.

Eyes on Venice,
hearts that Rome,
Where is it that anyone truly calls home…
Spoiled, rotten,
cheese is mold…

A tale to tell of broken hearts.
Penicillin gives a healing start.
Even when hearts still bleed.

So do not protest,
it shall be in vein.
For the healing has come;
wasting medicine would be a shame.

Poetry ~ Being the Bullet

Fear of success.
Fear of failure.
Fear of living.

One may not want to be.
Caught between starting line and destination.
But, enjoy this journey…

Of learning.
Of growing.
Of building a better life.

Casting multitasking aside.
Zeroing in, being the bullet.
Going full bore into the unknown.

Erotic Poetry ~ Lost in Shudders

Last of the world.
Lost Person Drown.

First in the fire.
Inward with glee!

Standing on night light.
Holding cat like a gun.

Lost in shudders.
Deep against the floor!

Flailing like shadows,
lost to the light.

Damn the sunbeam that spews!
All over the night.

Poetry ~ Wrapped in Dreams

Wishing: your presence.
Gone to peaceful retreat.
Knowing in dreams we do meet.

Ghosts watching over eras passed.
Seasons, withering and growing.

Time convexed. Zeitgeist of decades to come.
Uncaring ways of the day; then or now.

Wanting you resting.
Watching form distant.

Though miles part us.
I feel, tears in your eyes…
Scales of the heart.

Soulless, lost in time.
Tattered cloth interior.

Unravels as we are wrapped in dreams reality.

Poetry ~ Stagnation is Death

Life’s fresh water.
Cannot live without.

Stagnation…

What once gave life: poison.

We people too often.
All too often.

Allow internal rivers to stagnate.
Stagnate actions and thinking…
Poison to ourselves.

Stagnation is death in all things.

Birthday Poem ~ 1776

1000 seven hundred and seventy-6 sexual deviants.
Sent forth 17 specializing specters.
Telling the 8 wonders of the world.

Ideas never change in the minds of the idealist.
Creeping crawling death.

Seek forth and find. World left behind.
World of now looks bored with freedom.

Gone is new-found hope.
Now, only new found dope.

Doping of mind’s lie.
Dopamine’s golden foray.

Death of beauty.
Freedom?

Bulging wasted life…
Under foot without change.

Color form monochromatic.
Change laden politicking.

False kindness!
Pukes in the face of change.

Reclaim today?
Rights you pissed away.