Your Life, And After

The box in a body’s shape

Was laid in a hole, with surface of alike shape

Was paved with stone, and at the head, raised

Engraved on the headstone were words – raised

That from man’s heart, got shape – maybe cape

Live, so those words are not lies – sour as grape

Doctor Thee, Doctor

Dr is sponge; trading fine for vile
The sponge gives when full
or with pressure; push or pull
oozing its content; fine or vile

Recoil, recreate, refresh, reset
Soul search, at sunrise or sunset
often, do what's de rigueur
to clean a “Cleansing Sponge”

A friend and doctor himself
said, “Physician, treat yoself”
As this heals a patient
I’m still not patient
to doctor me; patient

Morphing Reality

Where to go
Where to stay
Who to know
Who to play

Past the stage, the hooray
Comes life on a tray

I am bold
I am brave
But in a cave,
In my cave

In search of…me

I go monk
To white the filth; the funk
Right the wrong
Of the wrong I write
Or the wronged by write

This write cant right, all wrong
Or wronged, backpacked

In search of…me

Sweet Italian

Post Boxing Day lunch serving
Courtesy of my brother’s “twin’s” kin
I’m introduced to this fine thing

Well wrapped, round, sweet, Italian
With golden-brown tan; nice skin
Warm and white within
All for about 160 per serving

I shook the hands, jaws still glued
Jaws soon dropped as we ate
Sub-ten minutes; Italian was done
But, we were not done

Searched all Texas for more
Desperate; phoned a friend in Saudi
Called ahead, and around
Detoured in Dallas; downtown Kroger

Black, White, and Hispanic
Dallas bankers stood no chance
Focused, for some sweet Italians
3 long twin sets, and 3 rounded; no bias

Great company all the way
Houston to Tulsa to City to Monroe
Smiles; I’ll wake to one tomorrow
Sad; soon she’ll be done and gone away

Confused? Perfect
It’s not that, dirty mind
It’s about the sweet Italian bread
Stay dirt-free my friends

Ageless by Force

I'm a lil less chaste
A lil hoary
less white pearly eyed
Unlike the baby

Though earthly time haste,
you’re forever 23

No more daps
A chat with you today
And I'm on the 5th
At E.A. Conway

From 3 to 2D
From earth to cloudy

Now Thoughts, mind reruns
pics, and vids, from facebook
Via my computer love
of your state above; as dove

Motivated by your absence
To strive for two
Then hit Africa
Try to fix the virus
R.I.P Kells, I'll keep you alive kid

Though earthly time haste,
you’re forever 23

Blade of Grass

A flexible, functional spine
Clad in its charming, vibrant green
at dawn, even as dew rolls off its back,
and at dusk, when the dust lie

A path to the caterpillar
The ladybug’s hangar
Clothes to landscape
Unbound by culture, and religion

Cutting, soothing; poison, food
Herbivores are fed
Stuffed; then green is bed
Itch bed, to one without cape

Post storms, floods, and bigfoot’s stomp
Post mower’s blade; the remnant stump
Though weak in facade; filament,
Resilient is the blade
Powerful is the blade

Temporary is form; is strength
Permanent is power; is class

I’ll be a blade of grass

The Tongue

Never dry
near food, cry
the fountain of life
or the path to the after-life

The window to a man’s soul
past, present, and future

Small giant
feels smooth, yet rough
it builds, and breaks
it tickles and burns

Nasty crispy clean bills
that cuts, and heals

Holy, and sometimes, sensual
Healing, divine and/or sexual
None else in the body is a clone
Arousing sensitivity in ways unknown