tipsy fingers play footsie

hand on my hand
evidence of strength.
smooth sensuality changes gear
subtle shift of bare sensations
rest in the small of my back
light touches of the fingers
ignite the skin,
refresh volatile thoughts.
will it last
that bare white emotion
nine is only a number
gassed into bits
five is my destiny
when I enter your mind again
after eight hours
my hand, your fingers
banter with each other,
then coming into their element,
play the erotic dance
rawness of which amazes me still

"taming the toes was never a duty,
why then I curl my feet?"

chained the present

I hid the present under the bed

chained it and put it in an iron trunk

It was creating nuisance all over

you and me and then some

that old trunk holds your whiff

it would do the present some good

that nightmarish after shave

I totally dislike,

I poured it in that iron chest

it will mingle with the past

make it a knot of sorts

I will add a card or two

and present the present to you

I am going out of that door to walk the future-

will wait for you near the creek to hold your hand

spoken inside the head

I tackle the pawns to the ground
the rook runs backward
I move forward with ease
it is like a movie you know
where pictures overlap
I may work for the king
but I covet the queen
she ignores me in the day time
yet night's distractions make her close
I might have taken to the robes
you don't understand my secret desire
the pace is slow or fast,
let the queen decide
as I don't care for omissions

"I like to see things from cock-eyed perspectives
slithering up the diagonals"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don't take credit for the last line. I edited it just a bit. It came from someone who creates pictures for us, where the beauty and ugliness of the world go hand in hand. He makes sure we understand. I can't name him here but he will know when he reads my poetry.......