Pulling out of Poetry

Whatever the heart wants....
Well, Ive got to tell you
I'm always waiting to long to tell her.
The ones ive told 
while penetrating
both body and soul
I'd say , hardly the place
for big decisions.
to pull out or not to pull out
that should
be
the only
question in life.
Whatever my heart wants
you can ask the bluebird
that Bukowski never
lets out
all night I sit here drunk on the words
the whores
and the
dreams
that never die.
Ive had my fair share of pulling out
and not.
but, 
this time
I
think i will 

Wonder Lust

you told me 
secrets in
and out
when my finest moments
were inside
you.

i mistook your words
for gold. 
consider them
as if you spoke
to clouds
or hide them away inside of 
stars.


just don't look up,
when it's
raining down
lies. 
 
============================


vapor trails 
of all
our
make
believe

Words are for Sleeping

Looks like an April road-trip-
Days-off  from work approved. Tattoo appointment in N.C. scheduled. Tickets for shows purchased.
It will be Lydia Loveless up in Asheville, NC. and on the way back home gonna catch
The Avett Brothers at the House of Blues in Orlando, Fl.  All the in between isn't worked out, like where to stay, hike, camp, cabin. Gotta leave somethings to chance. 

 -


It will soon be summer-
 The short lived cold spell is over down here- back to the Heat.
all the attitudes. the short fused tempers that make this place
just so special. .
clouds. clouds. rain.
Shiny condos sealed shut until next year.
beach cottages in Kool-Aid colors-
It leaves you,

sea shelled and boat dizzy,
the tourists pack up
to go home.