neoop

We two

cartwheeling through the multiverse;

trading identities for attributes,

differences for distinctions,

ideas for notions.

Once we are lovers,

embracing in Budapest,

building toward a crescendo

only the classics could imagine.

Then we are strangers,

continents divide us,

anonymity assures

we are fatefully alone.

Still we are ship-bound,

wild haired riding the high seas,

laughing,

scornfully,

at the poor fools

who choose

to tether...
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Voices crescendo
on a dimly lit
shadow dancing
Florida porch,
falsetto-ing through
late night nostalgia
into early morning bliss;
sun light a distant fear,
the past a scar mended heartbreak,
the now a rising song bringing
community to those forswearing,
or forgetting
society.

A new moon sky

stitched seamlessly

to a blinding blue afternoon,

bordered by ever ominous

thunderstorms,

raining down sun showers

on a mountain prairie montage,

as love takes

to celestial feathered wings

from the highest peaks,

while soul scarring tragedy

plays out its I Can't Look plot

respectfully

in the deep shadow

of cavernous metaphors.

Meanwhile the residents

of I Never Sleep town,

always over...
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We're all waiting

for the whirlwind.

Walking,

head down,

through the driving rain,

hoping the wind

will change

so we can lift

our heads

and give thanks again.

The sun

beats down,

breaking skin

to cracks,

minds to delirium.

Through the waving

shimmers

of cast back radiance

we still look up

and think

to put words

through lips too dry

to part,

words wishing

to...
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Around a fire

the world sits,

each man and woman

tossing in memories,

laughing as history burns,

euphoric to forget.

The children cower,

tears in their eyes,

weeping for what they've lost.

For time unknown,

unknowable

as eternity,

man has destroyed,

woman has destroyed,

in alternating breaths

to when they nurture;

bringing forth the next

to bare the burden

of age.

The man,

the woman,...
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So my day began with an irresistible urge to find a new pair of boots, cowboy boots to be exact; you see, I have a weird thing for cowboy boots and cowboy hats, in fact I have competed in hiphop freestyle competitions wearing such (even winning once or twice). So I spent the better part of the day hopping between the area's various western stores,...
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When I was a child,

young,

I cried burning white fear,

legs pulled to chest,

alone

in the dark.

Terror,

not for myself,

but for a soul,

that of my mother.

Terror,

for the future demon penance

she was destine to endure.

It was so vivid.

I could feel the flames,

smell the foul breath,

reach out and touch

the mangled face

of the fallen...
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The tide has fallen.

I missed its rise,

was ignorant of its retreat,

but I feel its ebb.

I know only of its heights

by the high water line,

higher than I now sit.

I wonder

did the tide carry me gently,

floating,

still on its surface

cradled in its motherly caress,

or was I overwhelmed,

drowned beneath

its pulsing

pounding surge.

My water pregnant...
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A woman sits,

naked,

ashamed;

eyes averted from a mirror.

The mirror that threatens

to tell.

Too much here,

too little there,

rough

where it should be otherwise,

soft

where it should be otherwise.

Too pale,

too dark,

too different.

Lines and bulges,

hair and lacking.

A stare too long,

a touch too hard,

a hand,

a person,

unwanted.

Decisions rethought,

regretted.

A life,

a...
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We are myopic,

by nature;

stuck in our world

of minutes,

days,

years.

Moments to us;

meaningful each.

The universe looks on in disdain.

Our moments

are but a stuttered breath,

the pause between heart beats;

inconsequential all.

The mayfly stares in wonder;

our meager collection

of moments

defy its comprehension.

Its life is spent

watching us waste seconds

it holds so dear;

precious beyond...
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A group of adolescents stand,

bottle in hand,

chaos behind the eyes,

malice on the tongue,

screaming “ Pan!

Why have you forsaken your sons?

The world cares not for you,

we are all that's left of your legacy!”

And they believe this to be true.

An old man sits,

not far down the road,

though rarely,

and not now, seen.

His evolved camouflage

appears...
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