Best Underbelly Poems

The hours grows late and so the night bodes ill,
Another man falls, he did drink his fill.
And what fate do the streets take,
When the night...

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Sacred Gratitude 
Rockin and Rollin inside my soul
Beckoning musical notes float within me
My heart surrenders and opens
Expanding

When the world outside dances in tension
Feeling bleak and...

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The End of Love

A secret grief rips apart all that was
Slaves to the sexual caresses of time
Stallions in black gallop gallantly in fields
Of spring full...

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Sin is a disease that destroys from
The darkness where it lingers
Always taunting us in the shadows
Of bitterness and dread, sinister
And haunting, calling out to the...

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As I lie here, eyes half closed, I wonder
Why does the grass wave to me?
Has the summer breeze asked it to greet me
And if so,...

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Without a Doubt

I’ve seen your yellow underbelly now
and there’s no denying or going back
a solid moral compass is what you lack
this country torn, breaking bodies...

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Come with me my Brother,
to a secret place where Light and Shadow line the face with fear and grace,
leave sophmoric style, wry smile and sly...

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THE INNER CHAMBER

Please.  Stop holding back on me.

Like a child standing at the neighborhood ice cream truck, arm outstretched, eyes huge, mouth watering.

I stand...

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Striking Deeply a Painful Reminder 

Striking deeply a painful reminder comes of you now.
Salt falls inside my open wound bringing untold pain.
My soul has one...

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Striking Deeply a Painful Reminder 

Striking deeply a painful reminder comes of you now.
Salt falls inside my open wound bringing untold pain.
My soul has one...

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The happy sound of the coffeemaker.
Or of a welcomed friend’s voice!
Using a real phone, not texting,
You sense  her in real time, a true joy

Maybe...

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As winter brings shortened light,
as famine delivers harvest blight
So does violence yield premature burial gain,
scarlet tears of Noah’s premonition rain
Crimson tidal force,
deluge of cursed, wolf...

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He speaks for the uprooted.
A man of sorts, a twiggy Buddha.
He who interprets 
the conferences of frogs, 
the unpublished works 
of kestrels and voles.

He’s an...

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Once I saw a purplish oblong tangerine,
Standing near the hydrant on Sixty-first
I wondered what it could possibly mean, 
Then, I was overcome with dreadful thirst
When...

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If I could write a poem about 
you, what would the subject be?
And would the form be sonnet,
or something far more free?
You are so difficult...

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