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Books for a Lifetime

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I have a bookshelf Stacked to the ceiling With books of every kind And books from every place Books take me places

The Morning After

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I wake up with my eyes closed Yet the baser sensations engulf me Starting with the soft, velvety warmth Of my face, buried in the flesh of her bosom

Picking Up The Pieces

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They came in the night A uniform storm Wielding voices of harsh violence And instruments of death

Morning’s Burden

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The violent ring Of the wretched device Burns through my ears

My Heart of Stone

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My heart of stone Once cause for mock Was cold as ice Was hard as rock