This man he is

 This man he is- can love a lot of people.
But can he love himself?
He seeks and seeks and walks further from his own heart.
Is that tragic or practical?

The man he is- has less mercy on himself.
He sees a world of soft men rubbing themselves with lotions.
Building their narratives inside their delusions.
While this man needs to build his castle.

This man I am- seeks love externally.
But why can't I stop and love myself?
For it's there that all that is sacred resides.
Yet I don't go looking in there.

I look outward like a hungry cat.
Instead of inward.
Will I ever know myself?
I will...

To write is to live

 Sipping her coffee
notepad open pen burning through
A line of ink through words
sentences and pages

Coffee stains the edge of the paper
Where the sentence ended
The blotch didn't stop her pen
For the line of ink continued

She said without writing she would not be whole
She said without putting pen to paper there would be death
That life would lack it's meaning
Lack continuity

So the line page and book fills

Genesis Fata Morgana

Adam and Eve came to the rockwall early morning.

Excited they unpacked and found a way into Eden.

They spent a happy few hours there before it came. 

The hiss.


A forked tongue!
Lightening curse!


Serpent creeps down to 5am.

The garden of Eden soaks a layer of sweet dew into it's undergrowth.

The snake slithers to 7am at the end of the branch on Yggdrasil.

Eve sits below pondering the forbidden fruit.

The external and the internal.

what is of the tree...
What is of her own womb...

Midday heat the snake watches from the wall.

As both Adam and Eve exit eden into the desert.

The bundle of food they carry already turning bad.

The small tent barely enough to protect them from tomorrow's dawn frost.

What agreement was made?
Does the serpent now have the right to bask from the wall top?

Yggdrasil shakes it's leaves like a big furry wet dog.

-Since when did I produce fruit? it shouted.

The snake turned and sought it's escape hole.

The exiled couple looked back as Eden vanished.

-What a beautiful mirage. Adam said

A color in dream spring( ANSUZ)

 
Ohhh.... oh oh, oh oh

All of them landed in, in line 
Dupes on them
Thoughts slide in to a saunter
Merely frugal glim

Pray of wreck they say there
Foul trees were a good throne
Hey I'm there a lever yonder... wave my wand!

Tears breed what is merely too sicky, so go around
Afraid of getting us a lousy bridge trolls under frown
Loki lays a lover,  leaves her, now is a colder guy
see greed vie under the olden tile the fade gray mind

Odin a color the other one storming a loser
fortify neither, you there still as a glacier
Freya falls, but sing soothsayer, fold of fate, release her

Hey I'm a lever yonder, wrath is want!

When she writes about me

 The way she digests me
The way she looks into me
Sees the depth of reflection
measures the salt and sugar of me

I hear her inner conversation whitteling her love
Connections under her slowly building above
A universe in her heart reaching out to mine
Conducted by emotion fed by her mind

She sighs and prays for an intense sensuality such
Single electric touch that puts perspective in so much
That recognition that goes beyond eyes, flirt or crush
Such flavor explodes, excites and alleviates
Gripping her, shouting like a loud opiate

Yet it all started with a glance 
the contact on fine glass
Low expectations great inspiration
Imminent inner carousal to overwhelming arousal

Their kitchen of joy

 In their big kitchen where most of their life was spent
Food a metaphor for so many other things
For connections and rapport
For a sign of wealth and health

For sharing and exchanging
An excuse for social times 
Jokes and anecdotes that continue for hours
The satisfaction they feel in harmony

The son that wasn't his, he embraced
And that son became a mirror of him
The charm and the smile
The need for excessive food and drink

The big kitchen was their heaven
There they could witness kindness
Wield irony and good humor
Until the walls themselves could smile

Saved by the grenade

 They led me up the hill. 
we were slipping on dry broken braken.
And slithers of splintered machetes.
Somewhere up ahead they will put me to death.

Continue their guerilla war.
Under the cover of this jungle.
The youths make jokes.
And check their magazines.

We make it to the ridgeline and duck.
The distant sound of helicopters.
I arrange my mind to meet my end.
I see their anger their anticipation of my last breath.

For I took many of them in the dark.
Strangling and cutting them.
Being the predator they feared.
But now I'm caught and they'll kill me.

A grenade explodes a few meters ahead.
The noise shatters my eardrums.
But the I throw myself down the hill.
I am alive but i feel dead.

Minutes later some soldiers prop me up and cut my ropes.
"Lieutenant, we have several of them alive."
"Take them back to camp for questioning."
They arm me and send a drone to confirm I survived.

Now I will hunt down each of their groups.
My loyal shadow unit hate daylight.
Our enemy may never sleep.
For our forays begin after nightfall.