Secret lanes spiral
taunting mystic ramblers whose
fantasies spur restless feet
to wander dream plots
that shift like sands to driven
Psyches on infinite quests
for sheds or shelters
in misty vales fringed by lush
fields tantalisingly close
a backpacker
a slacker
a sight
seeing
eyes
squinting at
worldly sun
rises and
sunsets
getting
to see some
things that are
no longer am
ongst us
but i do
not see myself
as a low percentage
of folks that could have
choosen a different path for
most think binary left or right
seeing life east to west
following the sun one
began with a break
now that one will
end and begin
just another
night to become
another day over
and over again but
what about going in
a straight direction
or roll the dice and
take a part of one
with the part of an
other and go
northeast or north
south or if you
allow your
compass
to spin
as i soon am going
southwest as well
as equally walking
over the equator
taking off my
boots
looking in
to a different
sunset with you
adding to my face
new
crow's
feet
Sweet memories are bitter;
For some reason it is for it is
No rehab no cure for this overlong slumber,
Nor a mistake for this miss
I thought we can go through this – together
But that’s just a hope for a crazy; demented man
You had only bitter it up – forever
I don’t think my heart will cure since then
Don’t think of saying sorry or getting mercy
Though you have that good-looking eyes
But a human will always be like Mr. Kersey
Forgiving, kind and nice
That person will never be your friend
Nor a backpacker companion for thee
I think I will go through sea and land
I will be at your heart immediately
Walk through the isle like a man
And gracefully like a woman
I don’t know how much pain
That I will have to suffer
Never had the thought of having inclination with you
Like they said in the story of an unseen story
Where a bitter getaway will have to get through
Or else it will be a pain cause of a dilatory
In the tangled jungle of my mind
creepies and crawlies
bite and suck.
They feast on your blood
and fill you with venom.
Howls of the night
keep you from rest,
and contorted vines
grab at your feet.
Oh, and the poisons
that turn your mind within
and make you fear your past.
And your future.
Those poisons in the smoke,
the innocent leaf,
and the full round berries,
Juicy and ripe,
that would lull you to a soundless sleep.
In the cave-dark recesses
I see nothing
but danger.
Whilst you, bathing in the dappled sun,
taut with adrenalin,
lean and young and brilliant,
agile and streetwise,
your light shields your eyes
seeing only the soft green shoots
and fearful creatures.
Seduced by that beguiling woodland.
Aware of only good
You go where I would fear to travel.
Take care.
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