TRACING SCARS

I’ve been looking in the mirror of deep reflection, tracing scars of experience’s marking

This slash across my heart I received from my first love’s passing amidst tearful deluge

And this one when I dared love again only to flee from poison’s pathological proximity

As for these lesser but still painful rips, they’re headstones for a hundred infant dreams

Fleeting fancies of romantic inspiration perished stillborn for lack of insight’s oxygen

See this gouge, along the base of my soul? It’s the handiwork of an Aztec world’s stab

Yes, as you can discern from the series of stitches crisscrossing my sides and stomach

I have had more than several occasions to retrieve my emotional innards from the heap

In the wake of a sharp savage collision with the butchering blade wielded by fortune in

Mood of cutting cruel; I’ve bled often in desire’s cause, a loyal helot in its war on want

Gazing hard at my face I see plain how my long campaign of endurance has stamped it

Long gone is that film of youthful illusion from my eyes, lasiked by maturity’s wisdom

And around my mouth despair’s consistent exercise has left my lips toned for frowning

These weathered channels, etched into my cheeks? They’re the paths of sorrow’s flood

Fadeless tattoos bearing witness to the many mourning torrents my loneliness has shed

Yes, you could say with conviction life’s performed its measure of operations upon me

Without mercy, denying to me the anesthesia of self-deception, or the balm of self-pity

Many a panging day of pure disaster I have submitted to the scalpel of living dissection

And yet still I survive somehow, ever arising from a sore slab to exit malefic’s morgue

Tracing scars at intervals, and laughing at my defiant evasion of a body’s dusty boxing

DIAMONDS IN THE DEEP

Seeking an exquisite hoard of treasure I look within her

Plumbing her exotic fathoms of peerless psyche I pan for fortune

Inspecting every facet of gleaming virtue contained in her gorgeous vein

I behold glory in her shining store of precious emotional gems

A veritable glittering Rheingold of torrential passions

I immerse myself with rapt delight within her cool glistening pool of intriguing persona

Diving below her surface defenses of modest reserve and prudence I touch bottom

A swift-swelling tsunami of desire being stirred unto soulful deluge via my exploration

Her whelming waves of pleasure arise like vast torrid peaks bathing me within her flood

And my awaiting heart in grateful joy then reaches out to sift those pure priceless jewels

The diamonds in the deep of my lady’s sublime revelation

IF YOU BE WITHOUT ANGELS

Long we have walked together, my dear companion, down this steep demanding highway

Of mortal adventure, navigating the sundry slopes and curves of precarious experience on

The great open road of life’s queer passage through seasons fair and poor, braving storms

Of sorrow’s panging tempest and warming ourselves under many a glowing sun of sweet

Serenity, blessed to cherish its light golden repose

We have endured many dramas along this fragile, finite path of worldly journey’s curious

Pursuit, striving to discover the veiled and vital treasury of our innermost yearning which

To the heart is an exquisite and incomparable store, far more precious than the fortune of

Croesus’s hoard; we have seen it all, witnessing the pressing poignant parade of pretense

And at length its inevitable palling

Now, my friend, our day of shared traverse in this wild wondrous sphere draws to closing

The gentle whisper of a chill wind bids me tell you farewell and prepare for my departing

No tears of yours or fervent exhorting to remain can bind us further in this fleeting flesh

And so, noble comrade in this patient purposeful pilgrimage of skin and soul, I say adieu

Though I know your faithful generous spirit will be heavy at first with my going’s burden

I beg you don’t grieve at a parting decreed by nature in its sage mystery for I leave you in

Presence only; as that which resided within me held by you in abiding affection shall not

Desert thee, and wherever you tread, in whatever region of peril, there ever shall I follow

Should your footsteps ever prove faltering in the gloomy shadow of an oppressing doubt

My guide shall lead you forward to the bright bearings of clarity by virtue of a cloudless Confidence’s star, and if the concourse of destiny proves crowded with winding inclines

Which incite the vexation of Sisyphus, fear not, for I will walk behind thee, bequeathing

My invisible push to all thy endeavors

Remember this, my true and trusted kindred, I am thy strength and solace in all ages and Efforts; the bond between us was forged ere eternity flowed and naught of heaven or the Earth can ever hope to sever our ancient and enchanted connection; we two have forever

Laughed and wept as fond inseparables in time’s garden, bound by devotion’s birthright

Although you should be fiercely shunned by the blind bestial tribe that adores ignorance

Care not, for you will proceed with pristine pride to inhabit the proper realm where wise

Holds court: the trail there will prove dangerous, as it ever must for worthies, but if you

Be without angels, you assume, think again, for my spirit’s wings of sacred and undying

Love will enfold thee, and all thy dogging dragons of mortal despairing thence vanquish

DANCING UNDER STARS

I remember that enchanted evening so very well, my love

When you and I savored a spontaneous feast deep in the night’s sultry embrace

We sat by the wild river whose fresh cool stream kept apace with our ardor’s flowing

You supped wanton on oysters and kissed me with strawberry’s sweet succulent tongue

I recollect the scarlet dress you wore and with what casual grinning élan you discarded it

To dive headlong into the water’s bracing grasp, your soft bronze skin shimmering wet in

Moonlight’s silver spotlight: I recall how you just stood there, flaunting your lean body’s Dripping sculpted perfection, employing the spell of Tantalus to lure me to your pleasing

Oh, how I remember that exquisite occasion, my sublime lady

When your charms of discreet suggestion seduced me to your arms in heated imagination

I recall how the warm caress of your delicate yet spurring hands gave wing to my arousal

And you took me on a flight of soaring intoxication above the clouds to gawk at heaven

I was your golden Apollo then, and you, my darling, the incomparable Muse of my soul

Together in thrall to passion’s crimson entrancing we crafted an ageless epic of romance

With only the whispering trees as our witness you and I attained our glorious Apotheosis

Becoming as one with the sprawling universe beyond the mortal bonds of time and flesh

And when at last our spirits parted, my adorable angel, you arose and held out your arms

Bidding me join you in a slow graceful glide across the air, our feet never touching earth

That most of all is what remains with me ever about that magical lyrical evening, dearest

The two of us, o imperishable rose, dancing under stars as nature’s lush madrigal chimed

WEATHERING ICE

Driving down a long and winding winter road we maintain a cool distant silence

Frozen in anger’s bitter temperament, our hearts bound fast within its glacial confines

Of unyielding pride, the chill and driving snow without unequal to the storm inside us

The loving summer of our affection darkened by the pall of fury’s sullen December

Without direct contact or communication we mark the frigid miles of our odyssey

Our souls trapped within a perilous yawning chasm of perhaps mortal estrangement

And then our vehicle abruptly swerves upon striking a black patch of raw rime

Suspending our gelid hostility as we so narrowly avert sudden death’s cold unfolding

Sitting there shaken by the side of the road in our rude awakening and relief we melt

A brief nod, a smile, the exchange of hands, and a soft kiss serve to warm our nature

United once more in tender perspective, we resume our winter travel in stronger vein

The art of weathering ice rendered wiser through the stark lesson of its Titanic danger

A ROSE IN THE DARKNESS

The cold night enfolds me, and I shiver for lack of warmth

A damp wind breathes its chill throughout the empty mansion of my soul

And a melancholy moon’s pallid reflection casts its lonely gaze upon me

I am alone, and a grasping winter of solitary sorrow reaches in to freeze my bones

Then I raise my dulled drooping eyes and behold you, my springtime in soft silk lace

You approach me, and I feel the gentle exhalations of your kind spirit banish all frost

We touch, kiss, and you begin to love me, our most tender connection a rebirth of the

Garden of my worldly dreams; like some fair fragile Rose in the Darkness of living’s

Dross you Refresh me, the Fragrance of your sweet blossom my dearest mortal balm

SILENCE SPEAKS

I gesture to her and she smiles, her expression bright as polished gold

Her graceful hands move with delicate precision, eloquent as a sonnet

The warmth and beauty of her spirit communicated with quiet passion

Through the skillful artistry of her signing and the vital joy in her eyes

Although deaf to the world’s green chorus of polyglot and mute of tongue

The inspired lyric inscribed with rapt exhilaration for life’s gift within her

Heart sings to all the earth’s ends of her fair fertile nature’s teeming gems

And through a masterful interpretation of her inner voice’s chanting muse

Silence speaks Profound, its Echoes amplified by Hush’s wordless Charm

SPACES

The Prophet in his incomparable wisdom counseled

Let there be Spaces in your togetherness

Let the warm breeze flow between that a bond of Love

Not become a chafing chain of Contention

Let affection prove an active Stream between the tender Shores of your unity

That you not suffer Stranding upon distancing Islands of alienating Familiarity

We must heed the sage advice of the Prophet soundly, my darling

And though standing United ever afford ourselves Liberty from each other’s Shade

I am the Lyre and your kind Caring and Devotion are the sweet Strings upon which

The rapt Concert of our deathless Passion’s deep blue Sonata is strummed

But we mustn’t forget we are Separate instruments, each of us a unique invention of

Crafting nature, individual notes of a splendid masterwork sung by choice in tandem

Although we shall ever share of the Bread and Wine of Life our Tastes shall be from

Different cups and loaves; for it is written Love’s bounty be savored best through an

Assortment of Spices, and your vein and mine though cleft as One must nevertheless

Journey in opposite Channels, lest the Circulation of Romance be adversely affected

Though the Golden days of our joyful Merriment shall prove long, many, and hearty

Still we must tend to our gardens Alone at times, deriving refreshment from solitude

The Prophet in his peerless Penetration proclaimed

Let there be Spaces in your togetherness

That the sacred soil where the Flower of your Fondness abides becomes not Infertile

I feel the Ache of your deplored Absence at this moment, my loving Angel

And though I wish you Near I yet Smile, knowing that this brief fleeting Space of Time

Is but a mere Seed which in fair Future shall yield Harvest of a deeper Union’s blossom

APPLES AND ORANGES

We come Together, you and I, contrasting Ingredients of Destiny’s curious Mix

You, a raucous child of Revels, and I a retiring Scholar of solitary Introspection

You dance to the wild beat of Impulse, while I heed Discretion’s cool Invitation

You boast the colorful Skin of Youth, while I sport the robe of prudent Maturity

You indulge the restless nature of Passions while I follow Moderation’s counsel

You scorn outright the reproach of Convention, reveling in Scandals and Excess

While I, no less Indifferent to Controversy, nevertheless display proper decorum

You flaunt your every want with a light heart, while my mantra’s ever discipline

We’re so Different, you and I, so at Odds in Many respects, Apples and Oranges

In the whimsical toss of life’s motley salad; yet like rich veins of gold and silver

Our respective elements Blend to create a unique Treasury of harmonious mettle

Like stars and seasons, we complement each other, the Sol and Luna of our own

Peculiar Firmament, tandem totems of eternal opposition’s deep queer Romance

TO G.A. WITH LOVE

I leave you with a breathless Kiss inside an old Chicago cab as we part

The mighty Roar of the restless city dimming to a gentle melancholy Sigh

Your distance leaves me a lonely Piper marooned upon an isle of Longing

In a house of tender Mirth composing a sentimental Ballad played by Heart

With aching Desire I await your exuberant Return, my blue-eyed Melpomene

The sound of your greeting’s Music like an absent friend once more embraced

In the gathering twilight, I run my hand through your scarlet Mane in pleasure

To make of a Lover’s Garden an Exit to Eden, ah, that is what the Night is for

MYSTERY OF LIFE

From beyond the Pale of Void it is wrought, an Enigma swathed in Contradiction

Sired from Love’s plumb of Nature, yet heir to the curse of Hate’s crimson Estate

Gifted with the peerless Power of Creation, yet enchanted by Bellona’s nihilist Siren

Pregnant with the wholesome Seed of Marvels, yet prone to the breech of Monsters

Like a wildfire it seethes with the incendiary Energies of a Passion forged in Eternity

Like a vast and winding River it ebbs and flows in fitful Phases, in search of the Sea

Of Meaning to spawn a spectacular School of sapient Salmon, driven to augment the

Sublime Store of this earth’s manifest Wonder ere they return unto Mystery’s source

It demands Discipline, yet it delights in Frolics, droll and dutiful in its daily Temper

It often wants for Joy, yet from the depths of chronic Despair it fashions the Lyre of

Laughter’s puck; although prone to Vice it falters not in Arete’s pursuit and like the

Earth itself it has its Seasons, like all of the Oceans it boasts an elusive Underworld

It is both a Tempest and Temple at once, a College of Confusion and a Cathedral of

Contemplation: like the jungle it is both the host of Appetites and the prey of Death

A fair feast for the unseen Sinister’s stalking; like the desert its expanses are vast in

Range, and harbor a Multitude of hidden Fauna; like the City, its tongue is Polyglot

Though it is Finite in Span it is Forever in Spirit; the Grave cannot hold its Essence

Again and again without relent it rises as a Phoenix from the ashes of its destruction

Its Heritage is that of Entropy’s progressive Defiance, its Standard that of Audacity

By its Grace its Children surmount the Heavens, and hoist the Veil of a fair Infinity

All this and yet still the enduring ageless Question remains: Why is it here, in truth?

Is existence the Jest of a cosmic Comic’s mad Muse, or is it the end of an Evolution

Rooted in Chance and Chimp? Alas, of its ultimate Origin, we cannot hope to know

Like some wiling Tudor sovereign Life plays coy, and Intriguing keeps her counsel

TYBURN FAIR

The death-knell’s rung in Saint Sepulchre’s for the Doomed of the Stone Room’s hold

And the dry incessant drone of Cotton harangues the Three who shall soon swing cold

In the Dawn’s cruel light the Cart is Drawn for Jack Sheppard, Poll Maggott, and Bess

And an eager Crowd of thirty thousand assembles to witness their last strangled breath

At the gallows’ foot the Dismal Ditty’s recited and the Paddington shrouds are donned

Ere the Tyburn Blossoms are led to the Ladder, by Turn to be sent Off

Fair Poll Maggott’s the first to Mount the acorn’s deadly Mare

And lolls her tongue to the Mob’s delight as she dances upon the air

Then comes Edgeworth Bess to charm the crowd with her mortal Fall

As she shakes her pretty Arse in the wind ere her spirited Jig doth pall

After her the vaunted Sheppard takes the Leap into the Dark

Amusing the cheering Throngs with his Frisk to the final Pulse of his heart

The fruit of the fatal Evergreen ripens beneath the sun

And as the evening draws its daily Veil death’s Entertainment is done

The mob disperses to Carouse and Caper unmoved by nary a Care

For the wanton Spectacle of three young Lives suspended at Tyburn Fair

A GATHERING OF OLD SOLDIERS

Slowly, so slowly, they shuffle about, their surviving limbs heavy from wear

Their bodies weighed by the brute impact of their sundry campaigns

Clad in faded remnants of khaki decorated with the honors of their courage

They strive to bear themselves with pride although for some this is difficult

Those not crippled physically assist those of their comrades no longer mobile

Their eyes once aflame with hope but now glazed by death and somber memory

They see the world quite differently now, deeper, and with a far less enthusiasm

Regarding human motives their perspectives are prone to a more melancholy view

When the anthem is played to mark the holiday’s significance, they form ranks

Tears coming to the eyes of the hospital’s staff as they observe with due respect

As their parents and other relations observe the ceremony of honor is completed

By a gathering of soldiers yet young in years, but left old by Mars’ acquaintance