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Posts from the ‘Poetry’ Category

death and I met

Death and I met at the drugstore on the corner I was

going in as he was coming out and blind in his hurry

he almost hit me head on but he missed and so

I nodded hello as was my habit and then he smiled a guilty

smile that I seemed to know and aloud I wondered if maybe

we’d met somewhere before and being a gentleman he slowed down and politely

answered no but I feel so certain that I’ve seen you somewhere I

insisted and he thought maybe we’ve known some of the same

people and that must be it I said then he smiled a funny

smile and said we’ll surely meet again someday so I certainly hoped

we would and then stepped into the door as he

made his way down the crowded sidewalk.


In the Shadows

I am this night’s shadows
rustling beneath the eaves,
stillness and silence, a sentinel,
I watch for you, for what I need.

Desire burns through these thin veins,
liquid memories of what I anticipate,
taste and touch cry out to me,
and aching with patience, I wait.

Then you come soft and languid,
living fleshed and curved and perfect.

My body ignites at the scent of you,
though no flush passes over pale skin,
ears pricked by your each falling footstep,
muscles tensed for the end to begin.

A deeper dark you ease your way into,
unthinking brush a tress back from your eyes,
and with no hesitation passing through,
blindly set your path, accept my lies.

Swiftly I descend into your capture,
hold you close with all my strength’s affect;
at last these verging senses reach their rapture,
and thrust their passion deep into your neck.

And now your thoughts, like skin, are tearing fast,
your terror beats, for me, a lovely tune;
I savor every note, for it won’t last,
the slowing rhythm of a life consumed.

Engorged, I slack and soften my embrace,
and gently pull my head back as I’m filled;
if I had love, I’d thank you for your gift,
though it’s hardly a flicker against this eternal chill.

Autumn Reveals Herself

The first cool morning

and autumn reveals herself to me:

she pulls her cape ’round,




bottomless depths of evergreen,

and brown.

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The Artist

How does he make that happen…

capture my whole childhood

in one stroke, 

yellowed highlight

of a single green leaf, 


like my memory.