Silver Beauty

my soul aches-
inflamed canker my mind's tongue
ceaselessly fondles-
to caress your silver beauty
with my unrefined lead arms

Bituminous Desire

your beauty touches
my bituminous spirit-
a flame ignited

Sweet Beauty

sweet beauty
invisible mist of
i-
my soul-
o'erlong lovesick,
o'erlong alone:
would your sweet soul bind.
long have i
sought you, hungry,
as to where our souls
might tryst.
my soul, your soul,
go there,
sweet soul;
be kissed.

Swan Lake

sibilants settle
pink petals on passion's pond
enchanted kisses
supple dancers performing
perfect pirouettes

Piano Forte

a bolt of your beauty
rakes my eyes
with white-hot claws-
a thunderous cadenza
played on the keyboard
of my mind-
carrying me away
with the powerful passionate pace
of its rib-shaking grandeur,
over reality's obstacles
into meadows and coverts
of half-realized flourishes:
tongues of flaming arpeggios-
concerto of the muse.

March Shower

i wish
my kisses
were raindrops
pelting your body
in a march shower

Smitten

a car-struck mailbox,
tipsy, leaning on moonlight-
my love-smitten heart

Damp Dreams of Torment

thoughts of you come;
stars,
hands-full of salt
cast across the onyx sky
of my mind.
hosts of images scattered;
a vandal with quill and ink
set loose
to randomly punctuate
the bleached dome
of my skull.

nerves and atoms whirl
scintillate within me;
hallow-boned birds
forever hovering,
damp dreams of torment.

i spell your name
with magnetic letters;
romantic runes
charged with erotic enchantment:
the whole alphabet
you
the smell of honey passion
you
the salmon sunrise
you
the sweet-scented subtle sheets
you.

damp dreams of torment
are delicious,
swimming within a diamond,
your dew moistening me
through the wool
blanket of the day.

Combusting Carnivore

prowling the nocturnal neon
zoo of my mind,
groin-deep in desire,
suckling love's sweet underbelly,
swinging full
the luscious flesh festival,
seduced
by siren song
of sacred craving.
i am a night being
stalking,
dangerous.
i am a sentient being,
disillusioned,
seeking.
my fingers burn from dancing
with the flames of
love
and wanting.
i come to you
in a rolling angel's fire
fast and hard-
creating,
scorching the night,
dancing,
ranting,
raving,
blazing-
a combusting carnal carnivore.

Thin Ice

i am so consumed by my soulmate,
so pregnant with her body,
her scents,
her mewls and moans,
her retreats and returns,
so obsessed by our love,
my mind feels like thin ice.

The Sculptor

i am a sculptor,
a molder of words.
everyday i shape
origami idols.
but in your presence
i crumple them
and watch them burn
on the hearth
of your blazing beauty.

i massage stone syllables,
chip love into them.
but when i consider
your voluptuous form,
i grind them into chalky powder
sprinkling them like fertilizer
on your perfumed garden.

Exotic Perfumes

o my love, my beauty, my life!
your appalling sensuality
is the rack
of all enchantments:
i am stretched
on the wonder of your existence.

the elixir of love
swells in my veins
even when weekday,
torturous separation
buries my soul's ardor
in tyrannic darkness.

still, i rejoice in the eternal
flame of my soul:
the quixotic, pure love
that continues
erupting in a riot
of exotic perfumes.

Opium Night

i captain,
in the moonlight,
a sea-worn freighter-
slide it up the bay-
the dreaming vessel softly
parting silvery silk waters
with its satin-shin stem,
prow pointed toward the
four winds of the universe.

there it glides
in broad moonlight,
nocturnal hulk faintly throbbing,
incomprehensibly trembling,
chuffing,
gently churning.
the buried waterscrew onward thrusting,
heading out to sea,
eternity-
stars of the mad mate's sexton,
rosy galaxy-
cleaving the stirring surf-
lustrous, opium night.

Chaos Theory

sexual. sensual.
residential goddess.
beauty immense enough to leave
an imprint on the stone
tablets of my mind.

today the chaos theory is true:
the flutter of a butterfly's wing
equals the force of a hurricane.

You-biquitous

i am certain
of nothing more
than your existence.

a thousand ants
crawling under a log
may find themselves
exposed
in my child-like search

for you.

i am eternally
destroyed
by your love.

i am like a survivor
of a flood
walking through the street
drenched with
god. surprised
that all of the
drowned victims
are still walking
and talking.

maybe there's hope.

i rush to each
memory
sucking what
i can of you
out of your

various incarnations

to touch them
is to touch you.

to kiss them
is to kiss you.

love is an artform
slightly removed
from its element.

the kiss
you kissed
as if you

alone

could forge
the signature
of the sun.

i close my eyes
although
i never know
the difference
i stand before
a brighter light
at lesser

distance.

things blur.
the sun darkens.
river
like oceans
oceans
like answers
questions
in cloud form
raindrops
in stanzas

to be
or not....

to see
or not....

my dreams and reality
blend in
ancient themes

the base is of venus

cross-faded to ankh

your love drops
from a cliff
over-looking
my
heart.