Another spring poem (with video)

I feel winter

Oozing out of me

The last bit

Of bitter toothpaste

In a tube

I have used

For too long,

The dribble

Of pale remains

Dripping from

Every part of me

As I wait

For spring

To come

And ache

For the blooming

The change

Always brings,

Buds bursting

In and around me

That explosion

Shaking me

Waking me

Raising me up

So I feel

Fulfilled again

That throbbing

Amazing feeling

Of expiring old

And glorious new

That wondrous haze

That flows

Out of me

To fill up

Those gaps
I have in my life

A magnificent

Phosphorescence

That blinds me

To all else

And leaves me

Exhausted

And inspired

Like nothing

Else can...

Void (with video)

For Tygrrr

When they pass

They pass

And all we can do

Is pray

And ponder about

Their souls

And if they have none

Are they covered

By ours

An umbrella against

The torrential furies

Of eternity

That lets us live on

In some other fashion

Or is their existence

What we see and feel

Here on this world

And whether in our efforts

To be kind

Have we done enough

Given love enough

To fill the void

They must face

From here on

Alone?

Lips (some notebook stuff)

What is that little dip called,

That nick above the lip

I so ache to lick

To stick the tip of my tongue in

To begin the kiss

I so ache to make

The tip of a toe into

The waters of love

Before plunging head long

Easing the whole tongue in

Passed plush lips

To the warm, moist darkness beyond

What is that little dip called

That nick, that lick

That always leads to love?

Lips, hips, ships

That sink in the night

That submarine plunge

I never meant to make

To find sunken Atlantis

An immortal moment of bliss

All starting with a kiss

Consumption

You always were persistent,

your sure step shiftless in the sand,

inches behind mine,

refusing to fade the way mine do,

the wavering water washing up,

sinking in at the toes,

the deep impression of your life,

always remarked upon,

leaving that satisfied taste of completeness behind,

while I, in constant struggle within myself,

looking for ways to make my name,

a Wall Street broker, a notorious book peddler,

a hustling, rustling bandit of the street,

almost ready to wash your feet

or windshield for your secret,

me, the invisible foot on the sand,

my suit, tie and shimmering shoes

meaningless here among the pixies

and gypsies of your imagination,

like a gull's bloated body

in the low hung clouds,

grey upon grey,

while you, stark,

a white gull with black head laughing

in defiance,

at me, at the sea that swallows me

at the world that consumes

us all.

Chains of love?

Every time she hears

The Beatles sing

“Chains of love,”

She goes ape

That bottle-blonde

Bomb-shell

The band

Mistakes for shy

For whom

Leather is

Not just

A fashion statement

And the chains

She puts on a man

Pinch more than

Just the heart

Curved surfaces

The curve

Fits the palm

Of my hand

As if made

To be that way,

My flesh too rough

For the silky

Surface

As I draw

My fingers

Up its side

Stirring up life

A shudder

A sigh

Don’t do it!

The invite read: “You should go,”

As if written just for me,

One of those things

Written deliberately vague

Easily misread when anyone

Who knows anything knows

I’d never get invited to anything

Remotely like that,

Me knowing that I’d never

Get invited to any party

That doesn’t have a noose

At the end of it,

And that a trap so transparent

As this kind is

Screams with the warning

“Don’t do it!”

When behind the scenes

This is Vietnam all over again

And that teasing voice

In the jungle hoping

To sure good guys like me

Out into the open

Where bad guys like them

Can get at us,

Or the political party

That always likes to keep

Ugly behind the scenes things

Like this wrapped up

So later they can deny

It meant what everybody

Presumed it meant

And the only one with egg

On their faces are those

Who took the meaning

Literally and fell for the trap,

In this world full of

Wishful thinking

We all wish for things

We shouldn’t have,

Or can’t have anyway,

Losing ourselves in a wish list

Of impossible dreams even

Don Quixote  could not rival

And no matter

How many windmills

We fight

We can never win

Watching the world spin

On a gust of evil wind

That must blow itself out