She Lit Her Cigarette

sigh, and short breaths inhale
click, spark, hiss
she lit her cigarette in the dark
the bench was stale and chilled
to reflect such an evening

No Tombstone

Greenish rustling blades of grass
New soil mixed with old
Between leaf skeletons
Disguise what lies beneath,
Far below indefinite layers of earth and time
Memories and legends compacted six feet under
Six million earth rotations over

So many more forgotten after swiftly passing nights
Than those called to mind now and again
Than those remembered after that first black visit

Gnarled branches shelter those eroding concrete homes
Twisted roots lace over ad around,
Embracing each and nearly all

My own gaze neither shelter nor embrace
But only tells of a desire to hear so many stories
To trace the treasure map trails to buries X's
To enter this place and answer my own lingering gaze

Not time now,
Though yet,
To follow such a gaze above rotten bones
No tombstone here carves my own name

Happy Mother's Day: Sail On, Sailors

By faith–

Through love–

All became in life

Lungs filled by surprised breath

As unfathomed seas became full

Of phenomena conceived by 

First sights of:

Fathers, Mothers, Children

Brothers, Sisters, Lovers

Hope commencing

Called my own to creation

First Steps, Heart Beats swell

Within this boundless–

This relentless[ly] roaming Sea:

Mother's Love Beholding

History demands time to pass

Inevitable transitions to inquire

Indefinite growth to challenge hopes

However,

In recalling confidently inspired faith...

Chaos-ridden waves are:

Inspired honestly by zealous truth, and...

Invariably followed with eagerly sought balance

Each rolling tide accepts voluntary vulnerability

Each wave coincides with:

Desire and Necessity to

Fulfill hearts

Every droplet from every splash

Falls upon resounding waterfalls

Returns by thin streams to

Unbound Sea's ceaseless calls

By Appropriate Nudity

Trembling fingernails choke hardened cuticles

While wind-blown leaves shake beneath rising mid-day darkness

When soft brown lashes flutter behind arrogant, heavy follicles

Anonymous hearts bestow discreet grains of lightning

To one top secret hour glass

Not too timidly displaying ironic reflections

Sun's erratic flames prophesy change just(ify)

Around tilting axis, just

Beyond snow-tipped thrones

Telephone calls trip and tangle electrical wires

Soles crash around local policy

Service fees stole the conductors' jobs

In broad daylight

No service may be found here

There, jump onto rooftops or weathervanes

Extended limbs extend hopeful brows

Wrinkled flesh clouded novice pupils

The cock has lost his metallic landmark

Slipping shingles taunt rubber souls

Reach to grasp gnarled cyber secrets

Super secrets erode confident matters

Folded fingers reveal slight (of) hands

Bury rusted hearts in beating chests

Shock shakes fabric(ated) foundations

Molecules astroid from liquid illusions

Senses drown under waves of heavy silence

Voices make quick diversion

Thieves of loose saliva

Climate change hype melting globes of wax

Cracked lips synchronize eyelash suspended drops

Dripping vulnerable floods away

Masses evolve–adaptation to submarine survival

Be or build, now self-titled portraits

To undress in one blundered future

A Sleepy Haiku

Monotonous speech

Dreams are inevitable

Gravity tugs lids

Where are They Whom?

gents of silk design

underlaid by tea or erratic vocals

passing plates and time

for rising arrows of safe stature

while under wooden table tops

hardly rodents survive

by opposable thumbs

and risking extended extremities

while under thick, heavy soles

hardly inspirations survive

around well-traveled footprints

inlaid in bright clay colors

belated time achieved

by belated moon rises

presupposed with expectations of orbital evolution

spiting extinction by imperatively limp limbs

tossed in among roaring mountains of clear ripples and foam waves

exceeding survival in the moving element

silk carried back to gents

soles strung back to skies

Beneath Stone

Where is your hat brimmed with eyeballs stolen from lashing graves?

Buried under gravel, dirt, grass

The baby graves are the worst to dig

Living in nightmares 

Encompassing wretched memories external to history

Every history in response to column-filled drums

Canals prove passable in magical visions

But shadows reject the static

Manipulation reads the best poetry

To trans... to mov... to mediate darkness

Now tears are only caught in wide brims

Eyes brim

Sunlight is the culprit

How rays of cloud penetrate your valves!

Is there no exception found

In the pressure of blue

Too, hues are the only way out

Digging from the inside

Breaking ground by souls to surface

For unrest is only eternal

Shallow spirits dig deeper

Minds, engraved, by heavy tools from the earth

Dirt rises in search of creation

In spite of delusional contentment

How far could one walk

Under such lead material?