Top Chef.

Oh cook, oh chef
Make me something hot and sweet
Not too heavy, not too light
Something smooth and warm and good to eat
Mix carefully, slowly
But don't make me wait
So sneak it in swiftly
Oh top of my plate
I don't want a menu
You know what I need
To hold between my cherry lips
So bring it hence, I plead!
Something to take in bit by bit
As its heat starts to spread
From my feet to my head
Something to come to rest
In my center, the heart of me
Something that must be shared between two
On this we both agree
Don't stop, don't move
Don't ask what's the matter
Just give me your heart on a silver platter.

Paper Napkin

Oddly enough, idiocracy plows on slowly,

Plodding along in its galoshes, nickels in its hand.

Painting nonsense memoirs on the expensive paper

Called media

And forcing the most valued forces to scribble a few lines

On a paper napkin in a pub

And tape it to the restroom wall

And wait for a whisper of gratification

While idiocracy shouts its uprising into the microphone

Called media

Rousing the orgasms of idiots

Who are too busy with their nickels to notice a single whisper

of sincerity.

Some beautiful poetry

http://www.adab.com/en/modules.php?name=Sh3er&doWhat=lsq&shid=2&start=0

I read "A Brief Love Letter" "Love Compared" "On Entering the Sea" and "Jerusalem" and have decided that this is my favorite poet.

Where is my melody?

My song left by plane.
My inspiration ripped from my grasp overnight,
The words stuffed carelessly in a carry-on
And snacked on occasionally,
While my poem soared over the Atlantic.
Every love song in the luggage haul,
Every soft melody smashed together
With other writers' lovers,
And other singers' supports,
And other wives' husbands.

Diapers, Formula, Eyeliner.

Baby nation
With a big-girl mind
Maturity combine
Speed up the turbine
Painting faces of acceptance
Of security
Of self-made self
Ugly words on pretty paper
Prostitution of youthfulness
To the guiles of the accelerating wind
To speed up time, and make it last longer
And come faster, and look better
Sooner
Stronger
For what is there to replace
On an unblemished face
But naivety and silly things
Purity, the profound stings
Of a youthful mind
All thrown away, all left behind
To spin the earth like a turbine
And make something quite unlike its kind:
A world manufacturing beauty
And yet a world completely blind

Song I wrote: RUPERT

This song goes out to my favorite guy ever, Rupert Twopert.
I could sing all day about you.

I"ve got your heart in the grass
Oh the field on the back road now
the clouds are spelling pictures in your eyes
Boy, you can't back down now
You've got the heart of a saint
And the smile of an angel
But you're making me such a sinner
So let's run away from home
Or make a day of it and kiss
Either way you'll still be a winner
Why'd you have to let me know
Cause I'll never let you go

So here we go
I wonder how long you've known
You've got a first-class, one-way ticket
To leave me here alone
You've got your head on my shoulder
And your face on my mind, and so
Today I'm yours, but tonight you're mine
Don't stop believing in what you'll leave behind
Oh Rupert, you're flyin'
Whoa

You're the boy all the good girls love
And I want so bad to know you
I'll cut your hair if it makes you weak
And makes you stay and lets me show you my love
So take a plane far away
And rip my heart from my ribcage
Keep it safe if it happens to make it
Or you can throw it away
In the ocean, it's okay
it won't take much more for you to break it
Maybe you're the perfect man
Take me with you if you can

So here we go
I wonder how long you've known
You've got a first-class, one-way ticket
To leave me here alone
You've got your head on my shoulder
And your face on my mind, and so
Today I'm yours, but tonight you're mine
Don't stop believing in what you'll leave behind
Oh Rupert, you're flyin'
Whoa

And I've never flown first class
And I doubt I ever will
And I come back from my vacations, unlike you
I got to hotels, and baby you go home
But I'll come back in a week and then we'll both be alone

I've got your heart in the grass
Of the field on the back road now
The clouds are spelling pictures in your eyes
Bou you can't back down now
You've got the heart of a saint
And the smile of an angel
But you're making me such a sinner
So let's run away from home
Or make a day of it and kiss
Either way you'll still be a winner
Why'd you have to let me know
Cause I'll never let you go

So here we go
I wonder how long you've known
You've got a first-class, one-way ticket
To leave me here alone
You've got your head on my shoulder
And your face on my mind, but now
I'm always yours, and you'll never be mine
Do you even believe in what you'll leave behind
Oh Rupert, you're flyin'
Home

Oops.

Blame.
Placing a name,
Unwanted fame.
Shame.
Nothing's the same.
It's like everything came
so quickly.

Tarnish, Stain

Shining armor rusts
With the softest springtime rain.
Princes' crowns shall tarnish;
Kings' robes stain.
These treasures hold naught
But downfall and gloom
For a lonely princess
in an empty room.

But jesters' remarks are a licentious flame
With lustful tongues too wild to tame,
While servants quiet and gruff do smile
And open their hearts for a short, short while.

In castles broad a dame may search
For love and life and a warm embrace,
Or a friend and a hand to hold;
An endearing glance of a lover's face.
But a lover may she never gain,
If not love for the very minds -
For smiles and words bow to tarnish and stain,
If not backed with love for a soul to find.

For knights and kings
And worldly things
A lust like words of the jester she holds
But crumples faint for a servant's smile
Full of love and life and a heart of gold

Swords show power, and crowns show wealth,
Robes show vanity, words show wit,
But a smile is a vulnerable orifice
That opens to the inside just a little bit,
And exposes the heart, life's true love potion.
A smile is a song, a smile is a motion
That cancels out jesters and princes and kings,
For princesses long for much lovelier things.

Anatomy of a Cuddle

Love is the part of the body
Where hearts touch hearts;
The miraculous, unreal meeting
Of two very inward parts.
The most intimate of proddings,
Starting at mere sight,
When I see you and you see me
In the middle of the night.

Inside touches pull outsides closer;
First arms, then bodies, then legs,
And even faces and lips, all lovingly touching,
And the mind starts to dance and the soul begs.
All thought and talking ceases,
But singing might ensue,
For that's the voice of touching hearts
As they explore a lover new.

Growing Up

Old fiends grow
All friends grow up
Young friends grow tall
Old friends grow wise
Weak friends grow distant
Strong friends grow close
Some friends grow up too quickly
Some friends don't grow up at all
So old friends
This is where we start growing up.

Happy Valntines Day... right?

Waiting
Sweet anticipation
Listening to love whisper
Listening to love laugh
Listening to love taunt
And beckon
And wait
For me? Or for you?
I sit and I whisper
I sit and I laugh
I sit and am taunted
You beckon
I wait
For my move?
Or yours?

Valentine's Day

Variations on sadness
Alone in a world of lovers
Love comes in sparse overtones
Eventually, I'll accept it.
Never will I forget it.
The reason I'm here
Is to make those who have feel better
Now they see someone
Even their best friend
Suffering from loneliness

Doesn't
Anyone else
Yearn for a better way to spend February 14th?

Two New Poems

Silence

Silence speaks

With words of the heart,

Being shoved through the eyes

And the arms

And the nose

And everything else you can't hear with.

A glance in passing

And a smile

Say a lot more

Than "I think you're very pretty,"

Or "I can't wait until we get to talk today."

Silence invokes words unspoken;

Makes you think you're listening

To something you haven't even heard,

And you're happy.

Silence speaks

With words of the mind,

Illustrated by the eyes

And the brain

And human nature

And everything else that makes you hope.

A glance in passing

And a smile

Can mean something else,

Like "I know you want to be more than just friends,"

Or "I'm just being nice to you, you know."

Silence invokes wishful thinking;

Makes you hope you're right

About something you may never even know,

And you're happy.

Lament

I cried as you held me,

"I'm tired! I'm tired!"

And you were tired too,

But still you held me,

Rocking slowly,

Like maybe you were in love.

I laughed as you danced with me,

"Faster! Faster!"

And we danced as fast as we could,

Even though there was no music,

Twisting wildly,

Like maybe we were crazy.

I waved as you left me,

"Come back! Come back!"

And you came back for one last kiss,

But you couldn't stay,

Walking slowly,

Like you knew it was goodbye.

I cried as I held you,

"I'm lonely! I'm lonely!"

And you were lonely too,

Even in my arms,

Rocking you slowly,

Like maybe you'd wake up.

-88-

Newest Poem: Ghost

"So old friends, now it's time to start growing up..." -Frank Shepard, "Merrily We Roll Along"

Ghost

A shadow-friend clung to his shoulder,
The ghost of his torturous pain.
Her weight only made him feel older,
So he cut her away for the gain
(Or the loss, so to speak, of her smoke)
For her love was a glistening token
Of the shadow-world of centuries past
And the wonders that they had awoken.

He could not bear to call her by name
Or be dazed by insidious charm.
He but cringed and cut her away in shame,
Severing her smoky grip on his arm,
Spilling the blood so innocently pumping
From her ghost-heart, in her ghost-chest thumping,
And, pausing to glance before turning away,
Watching her shadow sadly slumping.

Thus was the end of all his doubt.
He could leave the past forever more
And continue onward, going without
The burdens she had brought him before.
And what did he see while standing here,
But a shadow-sob and a single ghost-tear?
As glistening pools around her spread,
She clung to what once had been so dear.

The shadowland hadn't always been
So dark and dank and deep,
But a merry land, their joy-haven,
Full of sweet nectar and treasures to keep;
A beauty-place where they could run free.
Their faithful friends, and she, and he
Could frivolously play and laugh always,
And sleep many moons under Great Pine Tree.

He had spent such long and happy years
Loving and holding onto her hand,
Bound so tightly, without any fears,
Through the sunny shadowland.
While other bonds, so brittle, would break,
His hand, from hers, he would never take.
Together they learned, and bridges they burned,
And each held close, for the other's sake.

With thunder's bang and lightning's flash,
Their merry shadowland did fall.
Old companions, crumbling with a crash,
Burned away dark to nothing at all.
Terrified by their awful plight,
He grabbed her hand and turned in flight,
Away from the dread of companions past,
And the shadowland's dark and twisted spite.

She turned fought and challenged fate
To remain in the place that she called home,
And not be torn by vicious hate,
And was left, a ghost, on the road alone.
For all, he thought, he'd left behind
Was a shadow, a burden in his tortured mind.
So on he marched with the new, bright world,
And left her to grovel with her own shadow-kind.

Thus she became but a wisp of smoke,
Slit free on that dark and lonely road,
Reduced to nothing but air and heart,
Pumping the blood that in puddles flowed.
But as she sighed and quaked and bled,
He turned in haste and quietly fled
To salve and friend in a lighter world,

While her tears and blood for him she shed.

More Winter Wanderings

Some more pretty Winter pictures
My dog's favorite walking trail...

Winter

Snow swirls

Eddies

Drifts

Settles softly

Taking a rest on the hushed Earth

Sleeping until sunrise

Unaware

That warm mortailty rises with the sun

Light

Edison gave us the electric light bulb
An eclectic plight bulb
Burning, burning every day.
We turn it up brighter
Make things lighter
Only Lady Earth's fighter could see
Such blight in the light
A gift of the Lady since we first walked
First stepping in the night
So slightly knightly, Her fighter
Fought for her light nightly
But how we did stray, overcome by fright
And light bulbs chase out the dark of the night
Kept close to man, for men are like mice
And neither candle nor star could ever suffice.

Poetry
I love poetry.
I love digging
Through the cavernous catacombs,
Unlocking a chest of brand new meaning
That gives life to its beautiful façade.
Uncovering the secrets of the slightest scratch.
Looking into a life unknown
As words of gold spew forth.
They speak of their ancient maker
Like shiny crystal-glass skulls.
To dig up the fossilized meanings of poetry
Is the greatest treasure.
None have kept it under a glass case in a museum.
None have dated it; meaning has no age.
The simple pleasure of digging up poems
Is the golden whisper they emit at the first prod of the spade.
Soon enough, they swell in dynamic volume
A rising choir of enlightenment.
I love poetry.I love listening.

Incense

You burn your incense like a gold filament.
You wave its golden smoke under my nose.
Your golden scent is the best and worst sensation
As around my body its swirling invitation goes.
You smell too good to turn away,
So in the burner your incense will stay.

You wear your clothing like silver thread.
You brush its shiny warmth against my skin.
Your silver body is too beautiful and awful
As around my body its sparkling arms spin.
You look too good to turn away
So against my heart your clothing will stay.

You lick your lips like a mouth of bronze.
You brush their smooth richness across my cheek.
Your light, warm kiss is too sweet and bitter
As around me visions of love softly speak.
You taste too good to turn away.
So in our kiss your lips will stay.

You open your heart like a treasure chest.
You place its precious gifts in my open hands.
Your bronze, silver, and gold both heal and hurt
As you speak to me of true love's plans
You love too good to turn away
So in my hands your heart will stay.

Welcome to my Music Box

Stuck in the cage she created

Pale white in a world of color

Sound disappears

People disappear

Creations of solitude

A painted-on tear marks hidden fear

She blankly stares on

For what is clear to the eye

May not be to the touch

As she is sucked into a void

She once called her own

People look on

People laugh and smile

They do not see pain

They do not see fear

None can read the blank, plastic face

Of the mute in her own

Clear

box.

-88-