Date night

She drives the city…

I sit,


The music


a long period

of love. 



I’m starting to think
that anger and frustration
aren’t real feelings
at all.
Because if they were,
I feel that I would work
to hide them.
when I felt them,
I would be surprised,
maybe it would take
another beer
to soften the edge,
to experience them
without fear or apprehension.
But I don’t.
I carry them around
all day long.
I revel in them,
I roll in them,
like a dog in a pile of shit.
Love, beauty, compassion…
I keep
at arm’s length.
They are real feelings,
and I discourage them.
But, frustration and anger,
I hold on to them,
I hug them close.
They can’t be feelings
they must be vices.


Do you love

as love has commanded


that you do?

Have you,



its pleadings

(lost to your injuries

and past wounds)?

Numb to all gestures,

immune to all attentions

you are wandering….

Love whispers

her pleas to you

and you stare


at the mess of life…

the cacophony

of what was.

You cannot win this fight,

there is only one fighter

in the ring…

Lost in her embrace

Bring your heart,

come along.


dance in a bright light.

Sing your souls white-song,

sing it to a soft, gentle tune,


from your hearts deepest core.

Deep, solid warmth; secure.

Pull in tight, and hold softly…

hot, moist breath,

warm, smooth lips.

Open your mind

to passionate thought…

fire, and the need to touch again.

Bring your heart,

come with me.

Bring your love:

I’ll show your heart

the fire in my soul…

our fire.