Rendition

today I watched the testimony

of a woman whose brother

is being held in a Saudi Arabian prison,

at the request of the

United States government,

because a grand jury in America

found no reason to indict him,

so the FBI had the Saudi government

place him under arrest,

now he can be held indefinitely

because our court has no jurisdiction;

we have lost the war,

it was over before it

even began;

in the end it was the

hypocrisy and lies that

brought about the fall,

in the end we became exactly

what they said we were,

in the end old secrets and

dirty deeds,

quietly swept under the carpet,

crawled out from the darkness,

shining in the sun for all to see;

now it’s all over but

the shouting,

which will last for years,

as those who grew rich from

the fruit of the lies continue

to hang on for as long

as they can,

lingering on like some

last gasp, dying cancer,

beginning with such promise,

only to shrivel up and

blow away like leaves

on the morning wind.

.

.

Martin Luther King Day?

Martin Luther King day?

he brought sanity

to an insane world,

created calmness

out of chaos,

brought peace

to a battlefield,

forgiveness

where none was deserved,

light to a land grown black

by internal darkness;

so;

Martin Luther King day?

I would certainly think so;

or at least a floater

for the first 50 years or so,

(profits are never recognized

in their own time);

oh;

and make sure it’s on a Monday,

(might as well get a long weekend out of it).

.

.

With Her

we went out for dinner

on valentines day,

she wore the slinky black dress

and earrings that I love

so much;

she still takes my breath away,

and always will;

she tells me about her day,

talking and bubbling

as I bathe in the glow

of her radiance,

full of quiet pride

just to be sitting

at the same table

with her,

she is my partner,

my soul mate;

the woman of my dreams;

she orders her beloved

grilled shrimp,

the big jumbo juicy kind

that I love to watch her eat,

because she smiles

with every bite,

and I feel her passion

as the juice runs down her lips,

and it is all I can do

to keep from leaning over

and licking them clean

with my tongue,

instead I wipe them off

with a napkin,

as she giggles

like a beautiful

young girl;

later,

lying next to

each other

in bed,

her head resting

on my chest,

she tells me

how wonderful

the night has been;

I softly kiss

her head

and tell her

that it truly

was,

but then

with her;

every night is.

.

.

"I Knows Shugah"

over the weekend

my woman and I

drove out into the bayou,

to this little parish town

she knew about,

where some Cajun thing

was going on,

her charm and smile

got us in,

if it had been just me

I would have been chopped up

and thrown into the swamp

for gator bait;

but with her

I was ok;

we had a great time,

squishing crawdads,

then sucking the juice

out of their heads,

as zydeco music

played in the background,

we drank warm beer

and danced late into the night,

I tried to act cool

and indifferent,

but by the end of it all

I was dos-e-doing

with the best of em;

on the ride home

she sat next to me,

with her head on my shoulder

and her hand resting lightly

on my crotch,

the stars

shining brightly

in the sky

overhead;

“oooooh weeee bebeeee,

I luvs you more dan ze moon” I said

in my best Cajun accent,

she just smiled

and said;

“I knows shugah,

I knows.”

.

.

Waiting

in her eyes I am an artist,

in her eyes I am special,

in her eyes I am so many things;

and so I am;

she defines the limits,

she sets the parameters,

she creates the boundaries;

I want to hold her next to me,

my head pressed to her center,

my senses becoming flooded

with the magic from which

she was created;

my inner being filled

with the spirit of her light;

quietly I wait for her to rise,

sitting somewhere just beyond reach,

somewhere on a lookout high above,

like a predator waiting for

the coming dawn,

ready to feed on her

morning energy;

so that life may be sustained;

and thinking that finally

she is here.

.

.

More or Less

I feel her presence,

like a far off distant storm,

blowing across cool green plains,

capturing all within its path,

as I try to run

but cannot,

for she will not be denied;

and I cannot refuse;

if her body were the words to a poem,

they would be the most beautiful

words ever created,

if her soul were a bottle of wine,

it would be the sweetest wine

ever tasted,

she fills a part of me

that has cried out to be filled

from the beginning of time,

as I allow her to enter places

that no other has ever entered;

it is not that I love one less,

it is only that I love one more;

and for this I shall live,

for this I shall die,

for this I shall hide within myself

where none can see,

that which is best left unsaid,

meeting somewhere just beyond tomorrow,

in the space of a dream

which is without beginning or end.

.

.

"honey hush"

“honey hush;”

she whispers gently,

bringing a peace to my soul

never before felt,

while time stands still,

as I attempt to catch my breath,

coming to the realization

she has me completely;

she has me forever;

standing on ground never

before stood,

I am left somewhat confused,

wondering just where it is

this road is leading,

knowing only that I cannot

turn back now;

even if I wanted too;

this fragile thread,

binding us to one another

in ways that cannot

be explained,

a world within a world,

as I pray for it to hold

just a little longer until

a rescue is in sight;

“honey hush.”

.

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