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Between the Covers

Find me…

a book with covers that warm like blankets
of snow - drifting through non-fictional towns -
where glowing streetlamps light the dust - dancing
between the shelves of old books - in a shop
that doesn’t sell coffee - only stories -
rare handwritten autobiographies -
telling the secrets of these dreams - slowly
turning through the pages of history -
reaching a conclusion - where I am warm -  
between the covers of your mystery.

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Fateful Arrow

My aim’s precise just as my reasoning,
Each arrow is as piercing as a thought.
I’m battle-hardened by the suffering
Of all the countless struggles that I fought.

And as I bring my arrows to their aim
So I know hostile arrows to evade.
All those who hunted me became my game
And soon enough their memory will fade.

But this one time I could not get away
And all experience simply fell apart,
Distracted by the beauty of a fae,
An arrow shot by Cupid hit my heart.

And in this moment I began to live:
Love did me, cold assassin, purpose give.

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Shall I write about these alluring eyes,

Or shall allude them to pearls?  

Heaven warranted 'them' prize

To mirror his-self on earth.


When sun sets, indicating night,

And wind blows to south:

The aiding glow,which you hide,

Comes out thy cloud.

With streaming river if I compare,

A day of spring would whine:

Let milk be white and sun be red, but thy crust outshines.

The depth of the ocean' when you look, I can 'sea' in your stare,

Now I know, In the ocean why Pearls are so rare.


Earth is no sphere, and moon without light,

But your flaws I won't write.

'Them' make you another mortal soul destined to die

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Sonnet III

I’ve lived one thousand lives before, perhaps
and yes, I have no memory of them —
I must have committed dire mishaps
to live a life so often hurt, condemned;
I watch the souls dishonest finish first
and witness the good-willed tended to last;
the thief, he took, and the gold-hearted cursed,
for justice is a relic of the past.
I lend a hand of coin or hard labor,
or perhaps, on the back, a humane pat,
for friendship glues men from distant quarters,
but the solvent rains fall hard on my back.
This world was forged for the wrong and dirty,
and righteous men shall feel the misery.

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My Woman

does your pink blossom, glistening, weep for me

your love, sans thorns, warm and wondrous be

sweet scent elates the Gods, my soul and me

‘til I am smitten inconsolably

your love pierces defenses though and through

the hasp asunder – yes, I know ‘twas you

brought your heart to mine - love, long overdue

elation my soul never, ever knew

you’re the first kind thought born in days first light

the last words tasted on my lips each night

only dreams of you my desires excite

my wanton woman - my wet dream delight

if each kiss you gave cost me one red rose

here a thousand wait  - pray, take all of those


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Never Too Late

where were you, when bereft were we of Love

when I, in youth, designed my life to be

whose beauty none I'd deem would rise above

such beauty standing now in front of me

why is it Life plays games when we are bound

so hopelessly, too tied at times, it seems

then,life, never toot tapping on heart’s door Love comes around

we open wide to loveliness ne’er dreamed

we’ve ushered her inside restored her place

brushed off the dust that’s gathered long years missed

Love sidles close - our souls soft interlace

euphoria takes flight with Love’s sweet kiss

how can we, now, this Love accommodate

How can we not? To love ‘tis ne’er too late

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The Second Day of the World's Trek (when it trod upon a pilgrim)

I placed a foot on the throat,
and beneath me, heard a gurgling sound, like tepid water
when its emotions are brought to boil.

So I lifted my knee slightly,
and from below, came heaves of sputtering oil.

This new road, the one I’d signed for, has brought me here,
and little before have I known of such things as laughter or slaughter,
which can both bring to my heart such a stimulating climax,
even though it may seem unsightly.

I laughed as the one beneath me squirmed;
for I knew he had prayed so hard to find his way,
and now his paradise will surely be found
as slowly, I find it for him
and he will pass through to it, with none around.

The oil from him is crude and old,
as will be the ones who will later say they saw,
and I’ll not call my own children liars-
no; for my life is their whim,
because for this one beneath, I could burn.

My name is “World” and with thoughtless steps I swing
to catch all hopeless pilgrims by the clip of their wings,
and standing on this hill, the everyday,
I’ll end this one to keep my own demonic kin at bay.

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Eyes of Thanatos

Weathered white wisps

whip 'round the gaunt

face, young, old mists

of time all ages haunt.


Falling through the clouds

of gloomy despair, through

love and hate and wounds

though broken, beaten, blue.


Grimly grin cracks a face,

and now he sees humility.

Never staying from his race,

the cowards' life, torpidity.


And seraphim fight djinn, and

the sun rises over bone-charred sand.



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Shall I compare thee to an Oreo Mcflurry?

Thou art more lovely and more creamy:

Rough friers do shake the BBQ curry,

And McRib's grease do stir the tears within me:

Sometime too hot the french fries do feel,

And often is the cup holder bent

And every nugget scarce in a Happy Meal,

By Ronald's changing actor not paying his rent;

But thy own McRib shall not be broken

Nor lose possession of that napkin thou stuffs;

Nor shall Wendy brag through the speaker spoken,

When in drive-thru lines your candy cigarette puffs:

So long as burglars can steal or patties can grill,

So long lives our love, to be aired on Dr. Phil.

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Love in 113 Words

Love crashes in never asking or waiting,
It confuses us and turns us around, yet
We anticipate it; searching, yearning.
Love causes turmoil, pain, heartache, still we fret,
For what if we lay forgotten by Love?
We wait our whole lives for a single spark.
Then, when it arrives we require a shove,
For many times we can’t see it, but hark,
And we may not miss the call, so be bright;
Keep watch for Love, or it may disappear
Tired of the wait it suddenly takes flight.
But Love’s risk and chance shouldn’t ignite fear,
For though a Love lost causes pain and strife
A new Love gives us happiness and life.