Again, until We meet

The Dog knew it was Man’s Best Friend

He made his life worthwhile

as they aged, the Dog aged faster

And, as the Man aged, He ran slower

Their connection lasted through death

Protection then came by dreams

He knew He had taught Him well

Then, when His time was up

He no longer dreamed alone

Waiting patiently on the outside

With His lights so bright,

His best friend jumped into His arms

without jumping

As if guided by a leash,

He led Him into forever



Out on a limb…because of “The Solid Rock!”

I am so distressed, right now.

My Jimi Claybrooks piece, “The Solid Rock,” was damaged.  Not only have I tried finding a replacement, I have no been able to connect with the artist.

The framed print is so inspirational and sentimental to me.  In it’s pristine state, I was the envy of all my friends in Atlanta, Georgia.  I purchased #1052 of the limited edition 1800.  It would be okay to have anybody want to ask, “If it was so important to you, why didn’t you protect it better?” I deserve that!  Just like one’s own spirituality, it should be protected…well-grounded.

Things happen.

I am in great hope that I can capture the attention of either the artist, Jimi Claybrooks, or someone who can point me in the direction of a newer print nowhere near the $850 asking price. 

Sometimes, I guess you can put a price on sentimentality.




I must quit you.
You speak to me,
as if I’m not there.
Then, You dissipate.
Together, we sing
so joyfully,
only to escape my spirit
in search of my soul.
What more melody
can I take in, 
until I am hooked
at first stanza’s end?
I know I am here.
And I sense corruption,
a cou-de-ta to make me into
a robot of dysfunction.
It’s been fun
even when I didn’t have none.
Just too many to choose from
all in one night.  When I do.
That is a lighter I never want to use again.

Just say, “No.”

When I ask your feelings
about something I did,
Humor me, then
Don’t abuse me

Don’t let me feel
I am doing it right, when I am not
It’s like laughing
without sound.  Poking at me

If I ask you your opinion,
make me feel like you’re staring right at me    
Let me see the truth
before your smile becomes a wall  

If pleasure never finds you,
How long will you ever stay?

Words are never meaningless,
as long as the right action is taken

In The Bowels Of A Rust

Churn the damn scam
that awaits its moment
to rear its truth
Like smoking weeds
green, brown, sticky
laying prostrate
telling secrets to onlookers
who marvel and record
defecated prayers
Wishes are all You have
Verbiage reins supreme
Smoke smells
before ideas flow
Yet, who will fail to flush
after You wipe
Then so, who won’t?
How much length do You need
to pull out the real You
Maybe hip-flex color matters
when I reach for the air

The Girl


Not just a sexiness

But a way that separates those

who try to imitate

No belt necessary

For her waist is commandingly

proportioned to her mind

Watch her as she speaks

Lips curved to deliver

a teleprompter’s speech

Hands that do accentuate life

She wears her garb

as garbage falls to the wayside

Flawless in every way

She is her own jewel

while they all would love to

rest on her skin

Flowing winds cannot contain her

Mountains and all molehills

 crumble to make a way

Rivers plead for birds to

take a cool but passionate dip

to capture their lovely song

Though not a fallen star

the Heavens follow her

With a strategy that

matches her depth

All Hail when she


Even when not alone


Overdrawn so

But not insufficient

There is still a fair price

To pay for this old Love

That never ceases to lavish

Elegant yet self-made

Infallible yet vulnerable

Mysterious yet predictable

Empty is never an option

Even worn out

The face still shines

Penetrable yet resilient

Breakable yet irreplaceable

Envied when alone

Full when lonely

Imagined yet uncontrollable

A fantasy but fantastic

More but never enough Deity while impressionable


I wish you’d ask my name


The way you flip your hair

tells me you’re on it

But the way you part your teeth

I wish you would flaunt it

Don’t mind me if I stare

Or if you see me everywhere

Sometimes I wish you’d ask my name


The way you walk

 down the aisle

could make a lame man

 stand and smile

My how did you get your fame

Maybe it was the way you talk

that made men draw their own shadows with chalk


Damn, I wish you would ask me my name


And it’s a fine time

To make me thine

I got a name with my frame

And I’m down with a game

that would turn this smoke into a flame

I dare you

to ask me my name


When I think of our future

Makes my insides need a suture

My God, you’ve got me so tame

Our offspring from the sheets

would stand the test of time with tweets

Just give them my

own last name


Just let me love

to be loved

And then be loved

so I can love

Don’t make this a crying shame

When it’s time to lay your head

on my pillow on our bed

I hope I’ve made my mark with my name


Maybe I’ll Be Fine

All communication lost

You took away from me

What can I do

To make it stay

To make you play

To make you say

Hello, again?


No more clicking

Or ticking

Seems like someone’s picking

On me for no reason

In this season

Of heartache

And heartbreak


Can you take a little time

To tell me of my crime

I’m sorry, if I got out of line

Maybe I’ll be fine

If I show you your shrine

Maybe I’ll be fine

If I drink some wine


I won’t point out any flaws

Just because

You made so many laws

With all those hidden clauses

And dotted pauses

Where I did sign

Maybe I’ll be fine


Maybe I’ll be fine

If you sign


If you sign mine

If you have the time

Can you sign?

I’m running out of time