Vacillate, tropical nube de Lluvia,

cooled,

condensed beyond capacity,

avoided not

overwhelming warm front.


Rained NaCl with H2O.

Blue crystals are born in the mist
from warm intermittent gusts
of dampness from pouting caves

Hills fall three times as quickly
as they rise

Caressing deciboas slither
through cotton fields and denim deserts

pausing to tantalizingly squeeze

the hind's rear limbs
with just enough pressure
to escalate the pulse rate
and trigger a jolt

Burning baobab blaze ascends
to the heaving hills, descends
to cratered ponds filled with heptane isomers

Tribal drums pound a narcotic rhythm
to April's goddess

Urgent anxiety for the moored
sacrifice abandoned

while the sanguinous lion whetted
his voracious appetite and perused
each leaf and frond
on his growling ramble to the shrine

Pixels on a screen
begging to be seen.
For what reasons do I care?

Tentative crescent,
aching, reticent.
For longing, I click and stare.

A moment and then
the sadness descends,
soft, smoky indigo cloud.

Cool, misty drops grow,
land on words below,
rain the desires not allowed.

One click more, closed file
in folder of denial.
Cannot make myself delete.

Pixels, only dots,
they care for me not.
Without them, I'm incomplete.

Pixels on a screen
begging to be seen.
For what reasons do I care?

Tentative crescent,
aching, reticent.
For longing, I click and stare.

A moment and then
the sadness descends,
soft, smoky indigo cloud.

Cool, misty drops grow,
land on words below,
rain the desires not allowed.

One click more, closed file
in folder of denial.
Cannot make myself delete.

Pixels, only dots,
they care for me not.
Without them, I'm incomplete.

Resignation.

I resign myself to solitude.

Loneliness, however, is a place

I cannot bear to remain.

________--Lluvia

Bored with everyone fake

Need real people, flesh, warmth

I fell into the game,

love to play,

but I want the real deal

not a role.

I am a soul.


I thought to fly north.

He just wants his head rubbed.


I thought to tour a skyscraper.

The facade seemed too new.

I was afraid to enter.


The man in the park has a dark side.

The good side is goddamned sexy, though.

And he was not afraid to kiss me.


Everyone else is married.

(Wry smile)

I guess all of this was good enough for you.

Reckon it can be good enough for me.

Unsure where to go from here,

since there are no publishers,

not for me,

no love,

no, none of that for me either,

a couple of friends.

That's cool.

I will still write with them.

rain and tequila
usually make me want to
climb on top of you
and make us both as happy
as upstream salmon

in my mind
i push you grab
me and we both fall
carelessly with a splash
into a river of passion

unaware of breathing
breathing each other
inhaling your being
into my mouth and chest
heart beating with your blood

flowing, coursing, my life source
your undying love,
bottomless well of devotion
wrapping around me, a deluge,
you trust - my emotions flood

my fantasy vanishes
a puff of smoke, burned out match,
gone with the reality of
you will never believe in me
the cycle continues to happen.

Freedom's Bell remembers
forgotten tolls,
rings with fresh vigor.

Solitude's promise
calls joyfully
as crushing loneliness
fades into dusk.

Stars flicker with hope,
with dreams.

At night,
when normal beings
rest their weary bodies,
embrace slumber,

This poet dances in the heavens.

Pictures keep falling off the walls.

Every time I hang one up,

another falls.

I try to keep them from falling,

but I am not doing it right.

I am all alone, and no one can help me.

The holes in the walls...

I do not wish to see them.

Only your sweet, smiling faces.

Not one set of twins, but two.

You knew not who he knew.

He never in a million would have guessed.

I tried to ignore this. And then that.

And then that that thing.

They only thought they knew,

learned more,

still thought they knew,

learned more,

and realized--

--maybe there are some things

we don't know.

And a few know,

but most only suspect.

I,

omg,

I am trying to ignore

this new thing

that continues to try

to make up, to back track,

to not be too late,

but I already know.

And I do not know what to do.

But I want to cry

some more.

To sleep means
I might stop thinking
of you.

My mind may
soon be bringing
a few

Thoughtless thoughts,
words without meaning
or truth.

So I try
to keep thinking
as I begin sleeping,
thoughts come creeping,
I lie clinging
to you.