1.
The world will have a word from me,
before I’m dusty air.
I must provoke its consciousness,
divulge my urgent prayer.
It will not turn my words away,
nor weaken my insistence.
I must persuade its mindlessness,
to honor my existence.
2.
Drop the White –
it rattles me.
Blues befit My Soul.
I see them
in my dreams at night.
A sad but steady flow.
3.
I’m too near the ocean
to finish up a stream.
Standing on this precipice
I dream a sailor’s dream.
Thoughts of river sources,
seem too far away.
I cannot see beginnings
oozing out of clay.
Waterfalls are hard to climb,
harder near the top.
Fighting current’s not my style,
easier to drop.
Waves sometimes turn tidal, though,
storms breed hurricanes.
Perhaps if I assault the land,
She’ll have to learn my name.
4.
Whenever was My curtain call –
and where was I to miss it?
No one cued my entrance,
no help could I elicit!
What actor took my lines away –
must I stand mute forever?
Watching from this alcove
rehearsing my endeavor!
I must come forth, this is My time –
my debut is essential.
No director testing me
must miss my true potential.
5.
Dear friend, I know the city,
though it’s not my natural home.
I’ve seen it take the best of us
and let them die alone.
The country boys adore it,
for its freedom and its vice.
Its lights are bitter jewels
anxious to entice.
The streets are filled with wonder,
old traffic and new trade.
And there somehow more gentle souls
try not to be afraid.
They leave behind their fantasies,
as starlight leaves their eyes.
And gain the new expression
of garbage-eating flies.
6.
If I could share your bed tonight
my prowess would amaze you.
I’d teach you to enjoy your flesh,
I’d tantalize and praise you.
7.
A barren field’s a Kingdom
for the tree that stands alone.
It marks its days with falling leaves
Until the season’s gone.
8.
Having never been a stone before
the lack of soul disturbs me.
Turning stone was hard enough
without this cold to burn me.
I wish I’d never had the choice,
for then I’d never miss me.
All I’d know was innocence,
without a lip to kiss me.
9.
Slow steps follow the habit,
through empty halls of time.
Hollow memories cling to cobwebs,
banished from the mind.
Fevered dreams are bid farewell;
reckless blood is chastened.
Chastity in dry acclaim
upon the heart emblazoned.
10.
I had never turned the daybreak
into something I could touch.
Until now its revelation,
seemed remote — too hard to clutch.
I had always been afraid to fly,
to take its outstretched hand.
Preferring darkened earthy haunts –
and fearing reprimand.
Now though, it seeks with vigor,
my countenance and frame.
I may not find excuse for it,
pretending to be lame.
Instead I have to test these wings,
and soar above the seas.
Before the sand can find a way
to sink me to my knees.
11.
Blank verses,
transcribed from years
of adolescent sorrow
Cannot be retraced,
and metered into rhyme.
They are the memories
of alibis
long retired from use.
They are bold unfulfilled summers
where daydreams held
more of life,
than climbing trees or flying kites.
12.
The Gods proclaim my sterile state,
baser scenes are ended!
Fertile minds now hesitate;
Chastity’s descended!
Waste no time on bump and grind;
thoughtfulness, more fair!
Lusty visions cloud the mind
and subjugate the bearer!