Dawn the first light to sparkle on the water

Breaking apart the morning mist
Drying dew drops that gather in the night
Doing their part to add to the mystique
They land on top of the fine fronds
Of the snowy milkweeds
Turning them into small diamond bursts
In search of the rising sunlight

For three days I’ve tried to capture this
For three days I’ve failed miserably
Technical and yes, user difficulties
But today, today feels like the day I won’t blow it
Still, I pull out my rabbit’s foot and give it a smooch
Then my Nikon to check the aperture settings

And with one last kiss, I snap the shot…perfect!


Hyde Park Poets Rally Week 75

In The End

Nights in white satin, never reaching an end
Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send
Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before
Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore
Nights in White Satin – The Moody Blues

We were destiny, as only the stars portend
Two opposite worlds of the equestrian track
You a portrait of its wealth, me a pole post of its lack
An interest in film creates a chance meeting
Our eyes locked in pass of eternity’s fleeting
Despite it all, these two hearts of our transcend
To have had those stolen moments with you
Were worth the obstacles we were put through
Days wrapped in gold sun, a love ascends

Nights in white satin, never reaching an end

Each loving moment together a true Godsend
More so as time lessens the hold on or plight
And we could share our love in the full day light
We were a force leaving all others in the dust
I your earth you know had my complete trust
Your heart a Gibraltar on which I could always depend
It’s beat as familiar to me as the bent of my own
But the familiar sometimes become things left alone
I wrote letters of love, as classic poets have penned

Letters I’ve written, never meaning to send.

In retrospect I would have sent each letter and more
Had I but an inkling of the plans of the fates
By the time we saw your sickness, it was too late
Your health declined with such rapid velocity
The rushes to try any means of medical restore
Introduced a side-effect unplanned
The pain became more than you could stand
A slow fade of the sparkle I had come to adore

Beauty I’d always missed with these eyes before

Somewhere in there came the chorus of rumors
That your fidelity wasn’t quite as strong as mine
One of the reasons for your health’s cruel decline
The last thing I needed was that kind of stress
I saw it as a true meter of others’ nastiness
Like your arrival, your death shook me to the core
I find myself at war with the god’s aggression
That rips from me, my soul’s one possession
In the end I oscillate between faith and rancor

Just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore


Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 74 (October 4 -October 10)


Triple A…

Some say I’m a nympho
And that’s quite all right.
And hell yes! I do love it so!
But only one fills me with delight

He calls me his Triple A Pet
Anytime, anything, anyplace I can get


Soft as the murmuring breeze of a new day’s dawn
When the evening sun is about to set
An afternoon thunder shower should the mood spawn
Or perhaps during a midnight buffet


Going out commando on a dare
With nothing over my shape but a very short coat
Then sitting open in a park getting air
While he presses buttons on that special remote


Members of several airport’s Mile High
In the nose-bleeds, for a Knicks game at MSG
The feast at The Great Wall still bring me sighs
The weekend in the brink for the stunt at Wrigley

And I know it’s just not my predilection
Anytime – Anything – Anyplace
For he suffers from the same affliction

In limos, in cars, in buses, in trains
In a taxi during rush hour, against the door
I think we’ve hit every state except Maine
In a hotel picture window on the second floor


Swinging wildly with our motion
Re-enacting the latest porn
At Macy’s taste-testing lotion
And yes, that cob of corn


The times the reason how they vary
It’s not for food when we go for brunch
One crooks finger the other doesn’t tarry
At my office 3pm, because I needed to munch


Anytime, anything, anyplace that he can
I call him my Triple A Man

Manual, anal, oral, it doesn’t end
With but a moment’s loaf until recur
To each me he’s the perfect godsend
That doesn’t mind if you call him a satyr


Hyde Park Thursday Poets Rally Week 73 (September 20 – September 26, 2012)


Across a crowded room, his eyes catch mine
Eyes half-hooded by mood lighting, half-hooded by wine
He’s careful not to glance, but for a moment pass
And I equally engrossed, by the drink in my glass

Our paths cross but briefly, among the dancers on the floor
We smile, have a polite greeting, step away and nothing more
It’s a moment over faster than a thunder’s boom
Before we’re back to hooded glances across the crowded room

But this time he doesn’t waver, he lets his eyes penetrate
I grasp the wall for some support, under the glare of its weight
Mesmerized by his power, I realize I am no match
Before I feel him deep inside me just as my breaths catch

I pretend to nod to music heard above the party’s din
But it’s really to the throbbing of his pulse felt within
Eyes closed my body tingles at the unexpected bliss
I feel the warmth of his breath release with mine in a hiss

Guided by steady flickers of strong and tender fingers
That flitter across points enflamed with a teasing linger
My eyes fly open in a flash, just all time slows
Across the room I see him nod and wonder if he knows

Has there only been a passing of a few heartbeats
That took me from the curious to the nearly complete
He stands with his smile knowing, while I stifle down a moan
And leaves me there in throbbing passion, ravished by his eyes alone


Hyde Park Poetry | Poets’ Rally Week 72 (September 5 -12, 2012)


The Perfect Poet Award Poetry Rally Week 72 – Ravished

Perfect voice in an imperfect world
Muse pulls prose from words swirled

I nominate the wonderful poet  Heaven.

Remember Prayer

So just, come to me, for anything at all,
Call my name, it is yours to call.
Feel my faith in you, when you can’t find your own,
And always remember, you’re never alone

Freddy Jackson featuring Najee / All I’ll Ever Ask

Yes, sing My praises in hymns when times are good
But it’s the hard times where faith is truly understood
When you’ve had a brush with life’s shortfalls
Some offer prayer, every chance they could
Others are too afraid when they know they should
For all succumb to the curve of life’s pitfalls
So, whether you scream for My name out loud
Or kneel to Me in the quiet, anything but proud
It’s never too late to rise from a downfall
So just, come to Me, for anything at all

Reach out for Me, just reach out with upturned hands
I know the forces don’t always let things go as planned
And be not ashamed if you’ve never before prayed at all
Come to Me now, come to Me, I will understand
Remember it is My footprints that are seen in the sand
When the die lie still and you’re pressed against the wall
When you fear you have finally lost it all indeed
A simple prayer is the liaise to all you need
And never feel any request is too great or too small
Just call My name, it is yours to call

When your skies shift from watchet to gray
And a torrent of troubles come your way
For you’re worn, you’re tired – weary to the bone
When you feel you’ll never, have a say
In all the cruel games that life can play
When the darkness invokes your heart to moan
When you’re convinced without a doubt
That your end seems like the only way out
In the times when it feels your faith has flown
Feel My faith in you, when you can’t find your own

“In the beginning…” starts The Word’s first page
“…Christ be with you all. Amen” marks the final stage
From the first fillip of light I’ve ever shone
That setup the first of a Seven-Day age
Words that still have the power to assuage
Words that can inspire, words that help to atone
On those days, when you’re lost as what to do
Remember “These sayings are faithful and true.”
My love is reaped in reward as all love sown
And always remember, you’re never alone


dVerse Poets Pub | OpenLinkNight – Week 58

Hyde Park Poets Rally – Week 71

the fall

i watch as the world dresses in hues
of goldenrod, carnelian and fawn
shades of reality harden with dollar wine blues
then again, maybe it’s the sixth beer i’m on

refusing to believe the revolution, its been 365 tonight
the encore of champagne promises spilled among burned biscuits
and buns hard enough to make martha stewart cry outright
as i drained bottles and tears over the possible end of us

thrown off kilter i pleaded give me time, you gave me until fall
and seasons of dancing pixies floated atop my vodka on the rocks
waiting for the warm liqueurs to answer the call
but eyes glazed, would i have known if opportunity even knocks

my friend bill w knocked several times but i turned my face
thinking i still had time for you and him after my next beer
i never noticed as i fell from all my close friends grace
i had new friends in a variety of bottles colored and clear

straight faced i refresh my promises
to sailing sober no matter what it took
charm bought time with the doubting thomas’
but it wasn’t a trip I was ready to book

a year of a thousand little cases of dying
slipped by without fulfilling even a shadow of your desires
it’s once again smoldering in fall flair and i’m trying
but all i can smell is the burnt rubber of departing tires

class is over, but for me the lessons yet begun
it took two for conversation to engage
but the play had reached the end of its run
and you, the main thespian had left the stage

the job, the flat, the wheels left too, but still life’s sweet
with a flourish take a sip to autumn in the park
lying on the grass stretching out my feet
and take another sip to life in the growing dark

i note that dry leaves make fantastic kindling
thinking maybe i should extinguish the flame
my mind drunk in suicidal spindling
but i swear dropping the cigarette is not the same

damn i don’t know, did you kiss me goodbye
would i have even noticed after all
my ocean of tears can’t make inflamed kindling dry
i never did recover from the wagon’s fall  



Hyde Park – Thursday Poets Rally – Week 70

Hyde Park Purfact Poet at Rally – Week 70 – The Fall

I accept the award and nominate – Bohdirose

I Fear

I fear a love which fills my heart is slowly draining away
But taking the next step is one that hurts far too much
Now I have given up in believing in dreams that come true
When the secrets known to capture time are beyond my grasp

I am so afraid that someday there won’t be anything
That his caress will not be even a distant memory
Let alone the minutiae details of just our daily living
I fear a love which fills my heart is slowly draining away

I dared to dream I’d remember every aspect for all time
But what hold have I a mere mortal against all eternity?
I know this slow erasure is part of the steps in moving on
But taking the next step is one that hurts far too much

I need his kindred touch to remain locked deep inside me
Always a part of my soul as I believed with each breath
When our every want and dream seemed just a day away
Now I have given up in believing in dreams that come true

Yes, I need his kindred touch to remain locked deep inside me
For I dared to dream I’d remember every aspect for all time
Now I am so afraid that someday there won’t be anything
When the secrets known to capture time are beyond my grasp


You know me and forms, today it is a Cascade.

In a Cascade a poet creates the initial stanza then takes each consecutive line from that first stanza and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. If the first stanza is sextet, then the complete poem will have seven stanzas. A tercet results in four stanzas and so on. Beyond that, there are no additional rules for rhyming, meter, etc.

Thursday Poets Rally Week 69


The Between

He brings her a bracelet and a bunch of roses
For the fifteen years they’ve been together
She reads the card and the bracelet’s engraving
And something gut deep in her looses its tether
Conclusions once jumped to became solid proof
As Dinah reads his words of love to a Heather

She smiles sweetly handing him a poisoned plate
It’s a slippery slide between love and hate

She’s always been ‘such a good little girl‘
But she was never up to snuff among the pseudo rich
All she wants is to have what all of them have
For kids are cruel to those not matching their niche
Just once she cries, her fingers touch the jewelry case
Filled with a longing so deep her eyes start to twitch

She lets go of the ring and walks away from the site
It’s a slippery slide between wrong and right

A mother gently rocks her new-born babe
The first to come home after many tries
A stray bullet sails through the pastel drapes
And the newborn babe, quickly dies
The husband knows he’s lost more than his child
By the hollow blank stare of his wife’s eyes

And all he’s ever loved leaves this proud man bereft
It’s a slippery slide between life and death

Machines click, whoosh and beep their sounds
His sister copes by force of sheer will they say
But without a transplant, her body deteriorates
And all wonder if she’ll make it another day
They found a match! There’s a thread of a chance
And for the first time in years he kneels to pray

That she makes it as the organ flies through the air
It’s a slippery slide between hope and despair

When he was young it was always “not me”
Even when he was caught red-handed
As he got older the fibs were more creative
Going with whatever the need demanded
All but one he could lie straight in their faces
His truth and lies mixed as he commanded

He said he loved her, but walked away with a sigh
It’s a slippery slide between white and blatant lies

He kisses her cheek, ready to take her home
But he can’t seem to get his thoughts in sync
She feels so good as she leans in oh so close
Knowing she’s had far too much drink
But the scent of her thrills him and she can’t say no
They’re both naked and done before he can think

She never talked, but his own bullet put his guilt to rest
It’s a slippery slide between his love and incest

Hadn’t seen each other since grad school
Where animosities brought love’s ugly rend
Now global businesses made them partners
But will their past uphold or upend?
Their eyes lock as she comes off the passageway
Somehow knowing they’ve regained more than a friend

Two shy smiles first start to grin, then burst into laughter
It’s a slippery slide between good-bye and happily ever after

The between is that space that we hold dear
The whispers of hope in our ear
That susurrus haunting our deepest fear
It can save you from a life of crime
One step further from a life that’s prime
Or straight into the end of your earth’s time

It’s the slippery slides that no one can eschew
But how you handle them? Well that’s up you


Hyde Park – Poets Rally Week 69 (June 7-June 13, 2012)


His complexion is dark
even more so in the dimness of the night
A smooth polished ebony
what little light there is
playing on the curve and contours
of his wide shoulders
          broad back
               long thighs
                    knobby knees

I know I should have been asleep long ago
          I can’t
there is such a screwball perfectness
to his form in sleep
marred only by
          scars collected over the years
               each one a separate story
                    each one a separate delight

He turns in is sleep and reaches out
I move just close enough to lay within
His reach
his hand slowly slides down my arm
          from the shoulder to the elbow
               to the hand to the fingers resting on
                    my hip and thigh searching

For something
          even he doesn’t realize
               that he’s looking for
I smile to myself
and nuzzle close to him
          feeling him
               smelling him
silently whispering
          I’m here
               right here
                    right next to you

And finally having found
          the something
               only his sleeping soul can find
his hand relaxes
and I feel his body
          go deeper into the sleep
               he never woke from
                    and finally I join him


Thursday Poets Rally Week 68 (May 17-May 23, 2012)

This Night

My lips curve in my most seductive smile
I’m humming a self-made tune for a while
Crowned dominant by day, but this night I switch
Renewal of a role-play to scratch a different itch
No, this time I don’t command, I only obey
And I enjoy immensely, this role I play

Suspended cuffs at my wrists just a little tight
Gleaming in glare of the camera light
Painted on latex is my only form of dress
And it’s peeled with delighted foolishness
I’m wanton in this peeling and if you think jest
It’s not the cold that peaks me to that I can attest

This night is mine, and it’s only just begun
To redefine the meaning of having fun

This is my desire, being chained and seen
By those with the tastes and the mean
To explore the uniqueness I offer them
Surrounded by all the tools of my BDSM
Like the tense chains holding me in thrall
Upon the spreader bars exposing all

Except for the mask covering most of my face
Only my scarlet lips left in the open space
For the gear covers my ears and my hair
A way to see me, yet ignore I’m there
Even my eyes are covered, I’m denied sight
I’m just a nameless, faceless fuck tonight

This night is mine, all inhibitions strewn
I’m living on the dark side of the moon

My Master’s voice calls out loud to the voyeurs
“She’s your toy ladies and gents – go enjoy her”
It wasn’t in the script, but I’m happy to comply
Feeling the first brave soul pinch me hard inside my thigh
“That’s all you’ve got?” I ask with a mocking pout
Laughter follows, they’re amateurs I have no doubt

But I should have known better than to speak
A mirth removing slap reminding to play meek
Stroking, pinching, hair pulling and bites
Each squeeze is one more unimaginable delight
Soon it’s a blend of sensations all over me
One into another in a sexual cacophony

This night is mine, and no one hesitates
I’m a bell to be rung, they hear me resonate

The endorphins pump in doing their trick
The pain to pleasure ratio getting an extra kick
I enjoy its feel; the sting brings such pleasure,
I enjoy pain in ways others cannot measure
I respond to its voice, the flogger’s sweet song
Both supple and fluid yet biting and strong

Leather against my skin, all is just right
I can tell my “Master” is enjoying my plight
He taunts – teases drawing it across me slow
Or swings wildly in maddening staccato
And he knows me well, reads me like a story
Giving me all but stopping just shy of glory

This night is mine and I know it’s almost the final act
His gentle tug on swollen lips confirms that fact

But as an I act, I milk it for all its worth
Of visual stimuli there is no dearth
Yes, I’m a shock to those newly initiated
But no denying hours later that I’m satiated
And with his only kiss as cool as you all please
Brings me the glory that finally weakens my knees

“And so it must end!” he yells to all
My head snaps back at the sudden call
There is no acting the surprise on my face
At the reality of what was next to take place
The unwritten final act – he removes the blindfold
And the sad look in his eyes is the last thing I behold

This night was mine, to be set fully free
A gun to my head makes a snuff film of me


Thursday Poets Rally Week 67 (May 3-9, 2012)