Guerrilla Lover

In the restless battle
between silence
and expression
the latter always wins me over.

Relentless attacks
break down my resolve
and the heart concedes
while my lips betray me.

If love is what we’re fighting for,
then I’m screaming
bloody
murder.

Armor

Our shields.
Our shells.
Our egocentric shelters,

protect us from
swords
predators
and storms.

But love is none of these,
so let down your guard.
For my part,
the armor is thrown to the ground.

I wield no weapons.
No poison,
no pistols,
no swords.

I am a harmless herbivore
just chasing after sunshine.

And I thought I caught a glimpse
of a sparkle in you
that was more than the shimmer
of your shining armor.

Let me see the man
behind the mask.
Let me love the heart
inside your haven.

But if I am not the one,
stab me quick,
while my armor’s down,
and let me bleed it out.

Otherwise I’ll always wonder
why my knight just walked away.

Webster and His Words

Definitions are circular
and at the end of the day
a word means nothing.

A smile could say more.

A kiss,
for that matter,
could shatter the dictionary
and take us back
to Adam and Eve.

Look, I’m a wordsmith.
I love me some words.
But words are not free.

My gaze could roam
and graze the Earth
a hundred times
from shore to shore

before a word could even reach the door.

So you see,
on this page
I’m playing catch-up
in a rhythmical race
I’ll never win.

But then again,
how do you define
a win?

Truth and Dare

Kiss me
and you will feel
the passion that burns inside me.
For you.
For life.
For the sensation of lips
sliding
and gliding
and smoothing over worries,
making life
worth living
and love
worth giving
and everything inside me
pour forth onto your flesh.

You haven’t felt this yet.

But I promise
if you let me
you will understand
who I am.
You will comprehend
my magnitude
and realize
that the universe was born
in my blood
and nothing can stop us
once our lips collide.

If only you would let love inside.

I have answers
in my soul
that no one else knows.
But I want to share them with you.
I would teach you the lessons
that words cannot reveal
and only
lips
can feel
in the fever of themselves
and the union of their plea.

Kiss me.
You will see.

One-Word Self-Portrait

If there was one word
that I could use
to describe myself to you,
it would be
UNSTABLE.

This does not mean UNABLE.
And it is not a LABEL.

It just means that I live my life
like a run-away fable,
a story that
may or may not
be untrue.

A lesson handed down
to you
on one leg
instead of two.

Because BALANCE
is overrated.
And I will not be sedated.

I will just keep stumbling
by and by
until I reach
the unfixed sky.

In the Oh!-Zone

I’m on fire!

Better stop-drop-and-roll
before this muse
loses control
and burns me to a
delectable crisp.

I’m too young
to go out like this.

Like a yellow star
suddenly turned blue,
falling fast,
making dreams come true.

All except my own.

Cuz it’s too hard to see
with a blazing sun
inside of me.

Right behind my eyes
burning through my brain.

I’m too sizzling
to be sane.

2nd Amendment, 1st Responsibility

Let’s start a revolution,
bring retribution
to the poor souls
too lost to find solution.

I say EXECUTION
to this way of life
and all the strife
we think we need
in order to fulfill our greed.

There is a system
and you’re in it
but let’s push it to the limit
to see how far
they’ll really take it
before we break it
from within.

We are the only ones,
so lift up your guns.
Even if they’re only pens.

Undressed

Who needs dressing
with such an exotic salad?
Fresh earth glides
right past my lips,
fat-free
but still
straight to my hips.

Come reap the ripe flesh
you have sown
into my garden.

Thoughts of love
sprouting like spring time
in the autumn
of a weary heart.

You will be my undoing.
My untouchable.
The undressing
to my salad.

Rescue Me

What’s the shame in saying
I need love?

It takes a strong person
to give of themselves.
It doesn’t mean
you never fall apart.
It means you stand back up.
It means you stand for something.

And I do.

Yeah, I’m a little unsteady.
I stumble sometimes.

Ok, maybe more often than most.

But it’s only because
I carry this heavy heart
full of passions
and principles
and impatient expectations.

So it would be great
if you came
and lifted the weight just a little
with your presence,
your strength,
and all of your gentleness.

Yes,
it would be beautiful
if you would rescue me
with love’s
absolving kiss.

Tongue

Be direct
with your incision
of brevity’s Precision.

Do not waste
a single sip
of Perfection’s only son.

Less is more
in Heaven’s language.

And there is only One.