Lover, Fighter, Writer

THE CREATRESS Her hand flutters, and waves crest and tumble - their mist rising and falling, as rain brings the colors of life, and love soaks his surface. Her lips part, and wind streams forth - cascading and swirling, a tornado of motion; pure energy, focused and wild at once, whips across his surface. Her eyes blaze through his mountains, onyx canyons, obsidian seas violated at once by her penetrating light, an inferno diffused, now radiant, cradles and warms his surface. Her voice sings; as birds and beasts add their sounds to the rhythm of him, he spins and rejoices; life abounds on this, this playground - his surface. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM The dream was real; my body believed it, still humming and now still grasping for you. Tossed ruthlessly to Earth, your lips torn from mine, blood afire like turpentinelit and vanished in a f lash, now awake, empty and dazed but sure I just crossed time and space with you wrapped around me, so tell me please - how could this be just a dream just a little, little little dream? WICKED MOON Wicked moon, glowing full, always rousing me from slumber! Willing me to wake and write, willing me to walk the night - compelled to rise, and go outside, as though I hear my Romeo calling William’s verses from high above my window, not below, but I must go - under the sky, out to greet him, in his fullness and completeness! A siren’s call heard by my soul, and for one moment in his glow, I am sure of all I know and all is all is all is well below. THE FIGHT BEFORE THE FIGHT Such faith we have in this body to heal! Demanding recovery from wretched abuse in our quest to test all limits of blessed corporeal. Eyes dry and lips crack, the heart begins to bang and thrash, begging for escape from this depleted trap of drought and famine (self-inf licted), to be in near-death moments lifted, and then ensues a buxom climax most complete with feast and sleep - Only to wake to the day of war to be physically tested yet once more, and to suffer, recover, and do it all over again! TANGLED Her beautiful smooth surface gave no hint of the complexity beneath; tangled wires in intricate connections, woven deep around and under, twisted at times, so hopelessly nonsensical, the most experienced professional naught dare to give a price in time of what it might take to put her right, and remap this odd and twisted mess, to make her f low and whole again. X-TOWN My love whispers of a land where lush, verdant mountains touch the clouds with cold hands; all the while, grassy feet stick tip-toes in the sea - Such a place, could there be? The name rolls from his tongue, strange sounds like singing bees that mean nothing to me; in a moment irretrievable, yet this sounds unbelievable! My mind is not convinced this earthly place does exist, where hills dance in salt mist; a sandy blackness of sea, wrapped in vivacious green embraces like we, and like X-town, no one remembers our name.