Gig

Dull frets strum As the audience come, The echoing base guitar A rhythem following from afar, Pale drum skins pound A new life is found.

Desire

Grasping at the metal clasp,
freeing thick waves of deep
red hair.
Slipping her black tailored
suit jacket,
down her arms,
over her wrists,
and off.

My lips pressed, deep
against hers, hers against
mine, round the passionate
clashing of pink tongues.

As buttons and a zipper
of matching tailored trousers
fell loose revealing sultry
black lace, both were
wisped away,
down her legs,
over her ankles,
and off.

I Dream…

I dream of a place where no roads end is ever seen, a place where power and freedom have been. I dream of a place where cities never sleep, a place where the snow falls five inches deep. I dream of a place and sitting on the porch at night and greeting the sun of the morning light. I dream of a place of the red, the white, the blue. I dream of America how bout you?.

penning…

Penning the lines of a rhythm, a rhyme Capturing a throught a moment in time.

War Zone

I can smell the salt of the ocean as my heart pounds, my hands shake, But the drink warms me, calms me. I battle my way to the surface and bob there like a cork, bombs are flying, bullets falling, I can already see the dead. One of my men in the boat behind me whispers a prayer and marks the holy cross upon himself, the only word I catch is ‘Amen’ and then my sense’s are filled with the stinging salt and the blooded sea water.