Helen

captured the longings of kings.
was an almanac of delights,
queen among women said Homer.
legend says she was the child
of Zeus and Leda,
form and face perfect.
today we dine with her.
tease her. rave about her.
we watch her with quiet eyes
as she delves into our fancy..

foe or friend?
depends on your perspective.
her enameled look, touchy cheeks,
fair skin and beatific eyes give her
a flourishing stature, a high glitter
that can tease the underside of dreams
and stir luxurious speech.
she's part of the makeup kit village,
an extravagant artist at work.
such pretty plumage
makes young eyes try in vain.
she is what no one can have.
yet her image decorates airport corridors,
offices and waiting rooms.
is in hotel lobbies and hallways.
her perfected face is on TV,
in online posts and ads.
not a single blemish, pure, tuned just right,
as fresh as mountain dew.
her coveted curves precise, impeccable.
we breathe her each day.
it’s no secret.
we all love perfection.
we love ourselves to death with it.

 

 

 

The Savory

yes, appetize me with your
slow draw of love.
it’s the light fare happy hour.
trespass, slide across my flesh.
bite like you bite moonlight.

make your tongue the master.
enter the lodge, Mr. Lovely.
I am your coveted dish.
no, I am not fast food
but more like luscious thick salsa,
the tangy, snaring kind.
drink like I'm the best Daiquiri
you've ever had.

meddle with that succulent salad
and those herb crowned tomatoes
spread on my rosy belly.
squeeze me like
a supermarket peach,
tender, juicy,
but handle with care.
nourish me.
spice my duck.
be an all night herbal chef.
farm me top to bottom
with love, love, and more love.
make me into blue cheese.
how do you do it?
the recipe calls for peaches,
saucy wondrous hands,
salvo and full-bodied spice.

eat! gorge! eat!
toss me beyond the Earth's shadow.
till we burn
and fall like gorgeous rain,
reckless, inverted, hips oiled.

afterwards, we’ll lie quiet,
pureed in each other’s arms
till lights out.

 

 

A Courtly Desperado

shootouts, money sacks,
wild sheriff's eyes,
desperados, Wyatt Earp, Jesse James
fabled America and its frontier romance.
Bonnie and Clyde, D. B. Cooper,
Butch Cassidy,
the banditos, sly, loved, slain, filmed,
heroes and zeros bandaged up.

perhaps that woman in red shoes
and purple puffy holding her dog
can fly with me. dream of yesterday's
lustrous love tales.
leave today's constipated life to the constipators.
we'll wear masks.
plan our outlaw passion together.
go where the world left off.
we'll seize King Solomon's mines
from the local bank's jeweled vault.
run. hide. give press interviews
from our secret hole.
we'll be a sensation.

or maybe she wants a cowboy
to roam a hundred cities with.
the shimmering faces,
roaring theaters, jangling music,
fire red pants, love in limos, dance,
tasty midnight tacos, everyone's dirty linen
in your face, and hanging out
by beautiful marble fountains.

I’ll introduce myself
as a gentleman, a man on a mission.
say let's go reckless
into a splendid journey together.
might she say no? so what.
the world is big enough for a lady to say yes
to a bold dreamer, a gallant cowboy
with too much time on his hands.

 

Not Dead Yet

once I stood on the mudflats of love.
wore my nice white shirt,
took the eight AM bus.
lived the clean cut life
in my polyester tie and suit.
but now at this late age,
I'm hanging n rooftops,
dreaming, planning, schemeing.

I love to hug mother nature and her chicken legs.
the big river and the little flower where I live.
I go for cheap corn whiskey.
saw Star Wars last night for the nteenth time.
wish I could share a tub of ice cream
with Taylor Swift.

sure at this age I think of death.
but he's not in my yard, not yet.
I am the traveler, the star man, the river boat captain,
at least in fancy.
what would it be like to live off the grid
or to come back as a haunting ghost
and make the president pee in his pants.
my children are out. they will not be embarrassed.
I can find love beneath warm stars.
in a ballroom doing the fox trot.
I can dance with any young girl or her grandma.
I have no dark tears.
I've got poems to write.
the written word soothes me.
I'm harsh, gentle, edgy with a big tongue
and I'm just getting started.

 

 

You Taught Me How To Love
(for Heather)

I stepped out into life
danced and came back
with you
you taught me love
has no expiration date
even with its imperfections
we can knit our hearts together
at every turn
with a gentle light

I flourish with you
we can laugh out loud till our souls say
flowers are growing
within this magnificence mix
clear as any castle we might build
gladly we dance sing
brush each other's hair
keeps our vigilance strong
you are my breath within

the origin of love
is the origin of us
with fresh eyes 
we shape each embrace 
someday when up yonder we go
we'll continue to waltz
hand in hand
your bracelets around
my heart
just like they are here