The white snow stripes split the blackest night.
The winter prisoner's sight vanishes as her lips chap.
Dusty slivers of skin are pulled mercilessly by gnashing teeth,
while the wind warden gnaws at the rest of her flesh.
She squints her eyes at the horror of the night's serrated edge.

The winter prisoner's steps are inhibited by snow shackles.
She trudges forward toward the friendly cherry-colored guard
that will smile warmly when woken for a post dinner-date.
But, the wind warden says nay and sends a spray of ice like
a fire hose turned on a crowd of escapees.

The winter prisoner retreats faster than the initial advance.

You unravel the best, the worst, and all of me.
Your voice may range from gentle mockery,
to the emotional twinges of sweet sensuality.
Still, there are times when you are rough with me
and I hate those times but I wait for when
your kisses will soothe the burns again.

Did that all just happen electronically?
E-mail me.

A man in a black t-shirt with his large belly protruding from the bottom
leans against a cane wearing dirty pants that smell as repugnance is upon them.
A tired woman with her black eyes shot red wanders past a towering marble post.
The check in her hand is enough to turn on her heat and purchase some toast.
From the third floor open window a baby has been crying for hours.
The raspy wails point out the weaknesses of this community and all its powers.

The busses still bus, and the machine still cranks, the tills still ring
and Wall Street yells thanks- for the bail out, thanks for your tax,
thanks for the credit cards you ran up to the max!

The children can starve. The elderly can wander.The people with direction
have no time to ponder, the use of their funds, or its public allocation,
when a dollar and a quarter pay for a pepsi and a vending machine selection.
The children can starve. The elderly can wander. The people with direction
have no time to ponder, the use of their funds, or its public allocation,
when five hundred bucks buys a weekend vacation--
Without room service of course!

Isn't it nice to have choice? We can choose between cable and direct tvs.
We can choose adaptive cruise or assisted rear parking in a brand new Mercedes.
But what about when the only choices are food on the table, or electric invoices?

Who is ready to be responsible,to take ownership for that which we are culpable?
For every single selfish act we lose an opportunity to redact-
the statement that our lifestyle is correct- Just look at the treatment
people receive within our borders! Look at our rich, marvel the hoarders
of thousands, and millions, and billions galore!
Just don't look at the pan handlers in front of the grocery store.
Ignore the begging, the dirty, the poor, ignore the rats in the subway,
and the piss on the public housing door.

What's more, ignore the facts, there are no cracks, on the public trade floor.

On this eve, alone I lay.
No voices to flood the chatter
or mental chorus of daily matter
that does not matter thus or this.

On this eve, alone I say.
I have never known who I am.
A bleating heart, like Mary's lamb?
And, it does not matter thus or this.

On this eve, alone I stare.
For a fool's time has been wasted.
Someone's love has been cut and pasted;
and it does not matter thus or this.

On this eve, on my knees,
I watch the wind wrestle the trees,
a forever evening is all he sees,
and it does not matter thus or this.

A sad man becomes a poet when
he transcends mortality in memory.
Sad man, I wish you farewell and pray
that your soul finds peace eternal.

As human beings, we move so roughly.
We say things so harshly and use
language so ugly, so detached.

As spirits, we may exist as love
in the hearts of those who care
enough to remember we were human.

When our spirit and our humanity
finally meet face to face,
The ocean of nameless spirits and faces
recedes. The stale tide water leaves
the bay and all safe harbor. We
venture toward adventure on the undulating waves
and set sail for that new life- horizon bound.

Pink and gold, a purple splash
in a cerulean sky, something I
once drew with a digital crayon
right behind your eyes, the sun
still shines.

The belly-laughs are my favorite-
when we're talking and can't contain
that sweetest expression of delight.

The belly-laughs burst intensity
and radiate through every vein.
Oxygen bubbles -like champagne-
permeate my brain matter's density.

And then, we sigh and smile,
reflecting on the orgasmic humor
that leaves us gently nodding in approval.

452.32 miles equates to 7 hours and 43 minutes
The time to travel less lengthy in flight,
a short space in the air, were you to care,
but there is only that casual chance you might..

Some chemistry, there may be, brought on by fantasy,
and moments when we talk like grown-ups,
as it goes, when we wish each other well,
over coffee and tea, you may kiss my cheek...

Will you wave as we walk to part?

You never consider the possible start
of something you may not wish to end.

Is this how you prefer to feel my friend?

he's blind, cant see,
simply see, she's not free,
not she. to thee, or
trickery, dime bag games,
cracked pottery,
the hourglass stands still.

At ten thirty-three, an age,
not she. still not free.
it's she, and then it's he,
but he can't see,
blind to be, bride to he,

who sails no sea for she,
who sails no sea for she,

for she, no sea he sails,
an age, instead and fails,
in rage, where she hails,
and tries, to die within,
his eyes, set her to spin,
in skies, she flies to sin.