token resistance
to the powers of hell and
puppets march onward...

Cheese is good for heart
But sometimes it makes me fart
Will eat anyway

love's flickering flame
fire overwhelms great passion
only to burn out

but still on our roads
the blue haired lady swerves, she's
just 20 on a cell...

what is innovation
sometimes to see something old
through all new eyes...

ah, don't get too wild
about the future because
the "past" can be too...

back to nature, to
the country, to see that which
once was to right now

lighter than the wind,
conffeti covers the bride -
rose red cherry leaves

electronic rage
silica with metal trace
all deaf with the pulse

gonna tri again
the only heartbeat I feel
from inside and out

with letting go comes
new worlds and old worlds collide
out old in with new

watch the world pass by
eyes meet a set of clear eyes
just a visine ad

not everyone can
find their liberation through others...
only a prison

stress causes action
or reflection or as I
feel, paralyzed

her eyes brown like mine,
train moves slowly, we smile...
lonely reflection

When the soft eyes meet
Safe behind glass. Share the smile
There's no commitment

mistook you for Her
quite obvious now, you two have
nothing in common

sometimes stress causes
one to devalue self then
bandwagon crashes...

I hear on the news
that someone brewed their own diesel
in florida...

long railway tracks,
two trains pulling in slowly -
eyes meet through the glass

long railway tracks,
two trains pull in side to side -
eyes meet through the glass

I write of beauty
emotions and sensations
the Human Spirit

From the ashes; Words
Great pathos as usual
Concise, succinct!

Exciting prospects
Picking the low hanging fruit
Moving forward

I never wanted
to write a piece in Haiku
yet somehow I have

great artists die young
so according to the rules
i'll live forever

forget the peace world
and enter the realm of grief
so sad and lonely

we go to the play
and leave the sad man behind
we say oh sorry-not

why did kerouac
drink himself to death, was it
expected of him?

by the way charles shultz
never did get his red headed
girl he once loved

peace of mind makes for
great sandwiches, but for art?
marshall our sadness...

reason fights instinct
marshalling dynoysis (sic?)
vs apollo...

when a famous name
dies too soon, what was missed in
hallowed ground of ideas...

some see beauty in
ugliness, reason is perhaps
this is all we have

Through this partnership
I guide her into a walk
Excitement growing

The fervent love song
Exquisite communication
Dictating my mood

A stranger to me
Yet here in my arms souls touch
Taking my breath away

The passion unfolds
Like two ilicit lovers
Only we exist

We move as though one
Each feeling the others
thoughts
Our souls so entwined

Lost in our own world
We look confused, embarrassed
When the music stops

in my medicine box,
the winter fly,
has died of old age

ghosts of kerouac
once the old whitman ghost now...
he wanders our roads

an old alley way,
tramps and bankers side by side,
sheltered from the rain

wind ripples the pond,
lemon yellow sun shivers -
along with the sky

wind ripples the pond,
lemon yellow sun shivers

wind ripples the pond,
lemon yellow sun shivers

rain droplets on glass,
sliding to a slip stream,
in wind furrowed tracks

rain drops down the glass,
slide slowly to a slip stream,
in wind furrowed tracks

and don't forget poor
marvin, who's only sin was
to see life as it

is, people are ones
not to appreciate such
robots with brains the

size of a planet
but want that piece of paper
picked up, appliance

like that wave logo
here, killed thousands in thailand
in tsunami form

yet, we ride them on
boards, catch a wave and feel the
surge of life itself...

life as it is makes
life as it should be seem small
in comparison

when i am through shall
you offer your necks to me
or shall I to you?

shall you bite or shall
I tear or decline the id's
lust for life and death

I suppose to make
the right decisions clarity
is not beyond good,

or for that matter
the black wolf in my heart still
barks at some blood moon

shall I outdo the
marquis de sade in my anger
cornered, vile, embraced...

shall I be your new
charlie manson, anti-christ
or just a mild man

at times i wonder
why the bored are so inclined
to out and destroy...

a clockwork orange
are they, shall we break these toys
and snap their gears, watch

them twitch as the child
machines mimic nothing human
and flee as toys

in the end I think
there's some closure, the old man
told me about reiki

as he coughed sadly
about christ's evil, and showed
his dowsing necklace...

so much like little
gerald gardner did he seem
lost in his own myths...