The characteristics aesthetic

The characteristics aesthetic
Of male love amazing as
The squinting warmth of the flesh
Is sleepless on the face of the supreme
Strength of a smile
The rare vibrating of clenched heat
Tighter then the beautiful essence of men in love
A love doleful and the reddened prick flush with blood
A love inhaled with sweat and the astonished
Animal lust of the landscape where men seek
Each other under the haired cover of pubic hair
The ancient love that God fight for
The primogenital of genitals
The tempestuous touch of the prick of my love
The trident of lust; the soul, the spirit and the body
Amidst the common love that thinks just because
It can birth that it is all there is
This love smeared on the cheeks the domain
Of all that is holy by the sexual act
The burning in our soul where male love is born
The beautiful boy with his charm and
Anticipation of male love to come, the cum
Full of sons looking for the egg on the tongue
Male love ebb and flow its nocturnal glow
Under the street lights where the hustlers
Are buying their time
The love spoken by the poets is a love divine.

The conflagration of bustling male love

The conflagration of bustling male love
Is full of manly strength that over whelms me.
The business end of a man’s working love
Is the fervor and convocation of his conquest.
The sudden geometry of beautiful male bodies
Sends my emotion into a cyclone of desires fulfilled
The constitution of a male’s curiosity toward
His love says, thou shall love as love is given.
The worth of a man’s touch is to give him the attention
Of my black skin.
I long for his chest to mine, for the sweat of his sexual back
For the fresh negritude of his mind
And I am willing to give my time to the proud progression
Of his love, the guts of his love, the weight of his body
Flashing his strength toward the compromise
And the promises of what he is willing to give.
The drape of his clothes on his heavenly form
The likeness of likeness of men who come to inscribe
Their love on the kiss of my tongue.
All men are inquisitive with their unique beautiful
And equal with the growth of their legitimate common love
That is heaven sent from above.

I wasn’t listening

I wasn’t listening
To the words on his lips
But the structure of his body
Its funny how men dissect
With their eyes and minds.
What we see first is these few things
The general outline, sex, skin color.
The mind is the last thing to know
But first we hope that our souls will glow
Because it is a hidden part
Like the size of the dick
That some men offer as if
It is a trophy for us to win.

Yes it’s true

Yes it’s true
I am impetuous
As I implodes to you
Be not exasperated
By the male love that
Has captured you
Take to heart the attitudes
That God is a lover of what we do
This much I know is true
God is a lover of loving you
That you are forever
Present in its mind
As the organic form
That seeks a rhyme
And provides the ground
Where love can shine
Ever conscious
That male love is divine
Is a radiant love
Of the human kind
Yes it is true
That God loves what we do
And does itself approve
That the love made flesh
Is a depiction of what is true
Synthesizing the very truth
That male love will see us through
To the landscape of heaven that waits for you.

Our love is like an embroidered tapestry

Our love is like an embroidered tapestry
Woven over the years with fine silk
Come all the way from China
Or kente cloth from Africa.
The style is of the variation
Of the homosexual occasion
The relation between man and man
That reaches to God’s presence
There are men who by their God will condemn
To say that love has a limit
But they are small minded men
Who fear the exquisite
The splendid touch
Of the tapestry of our love
Stitched with care from above
To love one of one’s sex
Is no accident or love by chance
For we know the love of men
As we know ourselves
Know that narcissism
Has no reign here
This is not the love of the selfish mirror
But a love eager to thrive
And satisfy the harmony of what is inside
Hell has no place for us
As some priest will lie
That the mannerism of our love
Will be cast from the heavenly sky
Ridiculous I cry the affectation of their lies
Wounds some brothers to question why
But our love vision is open wide.

He created a space

He created a space
For me to love him
A space for the contribution of my body
Because the love to him is an enchantment
He has important in my mid life
With all of the reassures
That love is the innermost enchantment
Of the gay golden cultural
His relationship to my body
Explore the physical aspect
Of the ultimate experience of sexual development
Big words simply to say that I love him
In the way that a man can love a man
The geography of his body
Arrives upon my tongue
The sensuality of his cum
Contact my spirit when we are done
The lyrical interface of his love’s ego
Is the subject of his soul.
And God and old Satan knows
That he is my instruction of love.

The truth of the matter

The truth of the matter
Is never so simple
As to say I love you
I love you dear
Like the grand penetrating mind
I love you dear as a consummation of love
I love you dear like the depth of love’s knowledge
I love you dear like the pay off of a love song
I love you dear like the thought of all the possibility toward love
I love you dear with the heavy spirituality
Of your body’s structure
I love you dear with the imagination of my love
I love you dear as the bedrock of lust
I love you dear without resistance
I love you dear with the fluency of water
I love you dear precisely for your identity
I love you dear unmuddaled by religions
I love you dear for our love is purification
I love you dear by the information given by your body
I love you dear and my love is never discrete
I love you dear by the distinction of your diversity
I love you dear with the configuration of our love
I love you dear for you are my anthology of love
I love you dear for you are my definition of love
I love you dear for your advancing cum
I love you dear for you transmit love
I love you dear for the make of your configuration
I love you dear for your love is a sexual freedom
I love you dear for you are my roots and branches
I love you dear for your euphoria rhetoric
I love you dear for your bardic stance of your breath
I love you dear for your extended growth has grown into me
I love you dear for your divine sexual threats
I love you dear for you are the archetype of lovers
I love you dear by the recognition of love
I love you dear for our love is a saving salvation
I love you dear for our love fulfill the potential of love
I love you dear for the possibility of all loves
I love you dear with the intensity of new love
I love you dear by the discipline of my eyes
I love you dear by the measured steps of love
I love you dear for your muscular equilibrium
I love you dear and I acknowledge the clarity of your love
I love you dear by the sexual dance of your body
I love you dear for the condition of our love
I love you dear for our love is an original melody
I love you dear for the burgeoning ripeness of your love
I love you dear for love is an allegiance
I love you dear spontaneously with love
I love you dear for the expression of your love
I love you dear for your sexual performance
I love you dear for your intention toward love
I love you dear for our love is cosmic nourishment
I love you dear for your name is applicable to the meaning of love
I love you dear for wooing my intellect with your love
I love you dear for your love is a revelation of love in the world
I love you dear for you did consider spending your time loving me
I love you dear but the truth of the matter is never so simple.
As to say I love you.

The men are on the hunt

The men are on the hunt
But I am a spectator
The men are calm with their love
But I leap nervously
The men are loving the proof of their love
But I am alone and lost from what is right
The men are original in their beauty
But I am of a common cut
The men are writing poems to woo their loves
But I am singing a lullaby
The men has jointed together their love
But I stand along beside a stray dog
The men are standing out front with their love
But I hide in a swamp of crocodiles
The men are healthy in their love
But I am forever dangerous by my tongue
The men are erect by their love
But I boat away with my fears
The men are affectionate toward their love
But I am afraid of the black man’s blood
The men are generous with their love
But I am stingy by heart and hands toward the man
The men are giving their love full love
But I am reluctance
The men loves are legendary of men love
But I am little known
The men are pain staking loving their love
But I am unmethodical

Intelligence, the struggled

Intelligence, the struggled
Of the sharp edge of an admirable humorist
Lecture on the cold bloodedness
Of the 13th floor with a bridge’s strength
As ancient as a race of Samosonism
Seen in the rumba of parrots speaking in tongues.
The almost great afternoon of serenity found
In the silent of light held in the hands of a newborn
Is particularly calm when the quiet places
Of the busy brain is eating the real meal of challenge.
Everybody looks like a machine raised two fingers high
And the abstract drama of fortune is desperate toward
Its hurried control of pure and cool pelvis
Of a franticly variety of fish skeletons
Made of blue plastic that absorbs the trapped dash
At the bottom of the 5th promise to raise the
Dead hour full of ringworms painting with machine oil.
On the 6th floor where an untidy parakeet
Is singing a domestic song I can not get enough
Of the miracle squeezed from 6 months of friendship.
In my head there are broken promises of a smile
There is the half hour of foreplay with
The house Gods and a conversation with the cross
That pursuit me the edgeless shape of fire
Struggling against the soap opera tenaciously and
Problematical with its attracted warmth
Of movements flickering toward exhaustion.
I quench my experience of first-hand
Suicide and recognize the solemn symmetrical
Void of photos taken when I was a tender man
Of barbell means and strung out on urinals
Smelling of saint’s blood, saints are the victim
Of their gestures that move the air like mockingbirds.
When the constant shifting of the advancing winds
Was as rigid as the soft slops of slippery turned heads.
The chocolate command of my enthusiasm
Stumble handsomely across the crackling hours
Of separate rooms where each holds the
Prophetic dense blue of a cry only heard
By the dance of crumpled reflections
That tells us that the end of the water will come
When 7 a.m. is sunk beneath the angelic message
Of separated weather that crack, pimp and pop
The empty brick city where night was once as simple
As the hour of dawn, a stone blue of different blues
Almost as tired as peach fuzz face intimate as
An itching of the groin hung on tough boys of joy who hustle
The miracle as public as the nipples of a sudden
Drop of urinals 6 months long by the shine of the sun.

I was looking

I was looking for sex
But I found love
I was looking for brevity
But I found commitment
I was looking for a woman
But I found a man

My mind has many sides

My mind has many sides
The side that hear
The side that taste
What is heard along the way.
My sight to my brain is a small connection
Complex the motion the human design
Is full of symmetry
Two arms, two eyes, two hands
Two holes of the nostril
To smell out love by
The nose is sensitive to the smell of sex
The shortest route to who is best
To sex and sex again his smell to win
He smells of my intuitions
Apparently the nose knows best
Toward what motions the essence of his sex
I over strive betwixt the holy
And the sinful I am interest in them both
As inherence of the universal flow
At the corner of my eyes a gray squirrel
Dash across the telephone line
An elegance highway against the homeless cat
That prows the streets asymmetrical leading
From the neck to head from ankle bone to knee
From mulberry trunk to leaf
The world is immeasurable against man’s weakness
Nature is the one who tend the earthly garden
To her the mountain is no more important
Then the ant hill
Then the tree no more then a strip of grass
The homeless cat no more then man
Each to its self living their lives within
The God that sexed them wise
God is no mystery we breathe it and we eat
God alive as sure as we are eaten in our lives.

There was a commonplace mind

There was a commonplace mind
Behind his uncommon body
He was apparently full of wonder
Against what he had forgotten
He was almost sure that he was beautiful
His sufficient intimacy
Preceded majestically
Raw against nude bodies
He didn’t know the force
Of the tenderness of his hands
He didn’t know that he was desired by many men
Who wanted to process his body
And shackle his mind.

He speak poems

He speak poems
By his bony cheeks.
He energy just
About everything once.
His photograph
Is placed hard to the wall.
He looks down on a child
Overwhelmed by a large ball.
He tell me I have an unfaltering body
One that clenches to hard
And that I come off as an actor
In the living of my poems
But I am no Othello
Lead around by the noise
Of mistrusted passion
That justified his anger
These autumn days are dying
Anonymous without a whisper
Or a whistle blown from the dim street
Where they call me nigger.
Before I go to bed
I check the stove and the deadbolt
And from the darkness of my sleep
I steal away to the stiffen boy and Jesus
Both concentrate my mind to rhyme
The relationship to discuses the delighted
Overload of athletic men with their taste for muscles
And the terminating the weight around their bellies
Men fit their bodies to look good to other men
With their bodies by adventures, bodies by tasteless
In interest, bodies by living cell of veal
That is worth the meals fruiting your body bold.
He speaks laboring by the pen
No man is without a past and only the most comfortable
Among us knows the begin of our future
That imprisons us when the key is lost in the past.
He is an irregular prodigal
He is rare in his handsome beauty
He has assigned himself to a lonely man
That he found fair and tender to his satisfaction
You may think it not so that few of us get to meet
The undertaker that takes us under and threaten our body
With embalming as the business end of life.
He speak poem evicted from his heart
With all the ambitious of Elliot and Pound.
His intelligent is on parade with
Each poem he performs on the stage.
His disinterest entice the passionate
By his soft hand energies that makes his poems
Warm and willing to woo you the residue of
Their meaning mindful of the shield that words ware.
He explore the truth of your beauty
With his robust poem that reduced
The wonders round in a wrecked head
He says “Poets be attentive to my jargon”
This is a heroically breath of a plea.

However

However
The delicate
Loin is tender
By the sharp orgasm
Of sexual energy
The stirring appearance
Of emotion built up
Between the legs
Is an appetite meant
To be fulfilled
Overwhelming my taste
For sex is restless
By the bone that pitch a tent
With the morning wood
Of my body doing its own thing
The moment arrive to pop
In a space attracted to the nut
Of my desire
The unfaltering quiver of the body
The clenched knuckles griping the sheet
The feeling of an luminous coming forth
Of half daughter and sons to be.

Merriment and dichotomy

Merriment and dichotomy
Lover of things as men’s dreams
Of lost foreigner to the broken place
Where the transmissible
Comprehension of the word LOVE
Is carefully grounded in the identity
Of our love bluish by the boys that
Bent their bare backs back
Quite ready to love the casual
Sex of a Saturday night
With two a. m. Sunday morning breakfast.
Lust or love we black dance
And pirate away the heart
Glowing yellow with hard limbs
That makes of love a maple trunk
Windy with what love is worth
Brisk at the business end of love
Blustery with revisions why the lover’s cause
I love you is once removed
And unresolved
But we hold to each other’s hands
And our hearts once befriended
The subordination of each
In the residence of our attachments.
This love illusion, local nothingness
That words can not hold on to.
The baffled suppose of being in love
Linger like crystal growing in the raw
The radiance of it inspirational
Thrush forward increasingly
Disengaging to engage again
What the lovers win on mound hill the
Rural perversely of being in love
The nonchalance it takes for skin.
Love’s shenanigans, love is old
And always bold sometimes bald
That bull both redbuds and bush
In the configuration of the burning Virgin
You must be in love to see such a thing
Love’s victory of height in the soul.
Diminish the undisturbed compromised
Of swamp possibilities that a clump
Of love’s blossoms grows.
Love exceed the sucking back.
Love rest and runs its course
Of insisting that it goes quietly
Like the good thief in the good night.
Do you like the blazing of love
Its aspect of uncertainty
When you give yourself over
To the supposed periphery
Of the loved object.
Love is part serenity
Part being aligned
And tugged taut by the emotions
That move you to love
The love of bronze boys
Wondrous with hesitation
Burning their youth beneath
Jove and Ganymede and
Zeus on the wings for his love toy.
Love is common place among the living
Swimming love, love that craws. Love
Stabile among the blue spruce
In Denver where the gold dome sits on a hill.
Let love over take you with a vacation taken
In the talk about remnants of love’s hungry
To feed the common worth.

The duration of his love

The duration of his love
Was a period of safety
A period of armchairs
And other furniture of software
And antiques taken cared of
Handed down luxuries.
We were expansive in our love
Over the years. Locked in
The key kept in a kitchen drawer
Gradually our love grew
Harmonious all around.
But love can fall from itself
Can change its identity in the heart
And head that oppose each other.
I wasn’t so good-minded
When he fell from my love for
Love can be a thing long forgotten and taken for granted
The luminosities both
In harmony as to keep love interesting
And intrusting
In its rest upon a warm breast of the chest.

Gnarling at the pulled back skin

Gnarling at the pulled back skin
The push forward of limbs
The mulberry is suddenly alive afain.

I once was of incredible strength

I once was of incredible strength
And magnificent grace
I was a distinguish touchstone
Waiting for tomorrow to pound
My shoulders of an ancient race
Into the bustling autumn
Of the adventure of poetry
Told to the qualities of the Mississippi River
Rushing like a gothic apology of skyscrapers
Once I was a sharp edge of religious cults
That chuckle at the notion that God lives
In the hurricane of heaven
Today I have got to drop
Put myself on blast
Or smash the homie that
Bridge the building of admirable
Tourists embarrassing the fallen
RIPs of the amaze struggles
When once I was all the promises of tomorrow
A kind of difficult situation to the God
That could not breath the everywhere places of nature
Once I was the first virgin
A mile long in my beliefs and the angels sexed each others
With the daughters of man in a heaven never meant
For the likes of the human flesh that takes its time
To rot in the ground that waits for the river
I shudder to breathe that my beauty is wild
On my breath as to realize that the foreground
Of my sexual life is a dollar away from my sexual allowance
I once was a jet water of granite
A hug of broken hungry prodigiously
Pocketing warm money and the weight of food
I once was opened handed with my dreams
Back when I celebrated the bacchanal wedding
Of men in love with the newlywed in the
Superficial wedding of
Complexity and the American customs
I one was a husband to a man whose
Condolences gaggle of a theatrical affairs
Looking affectionate down to the humane position
Of all my varieties.
I once was a once was with the exaggeration
Of my managed afternoons lost some where
In the most interesting theater of money
I once settled for October’s bargain
When shouting windows made room
For the policemen of the goodness of laughter.

Hands that grip the bats

Hands that grip the bats
And pig skin catch
Hands between the
Parallel bars
Mount the horse
And ride away
Hands that pump the run
And hands full of weights
Hands break boards and bricks
Hands sucker punch
And hands break bones
Hands and breath our
Reach with air
And hands are never along
They hold and whip
With Bigmama’s swish
From the peach tree
Growing in the side orchard
Hands can not leave well enough alone
Poet gives their hands
Gifts of pens
And hands dance across
The keyboard
And strike the black and white
In a jazzy Saturday night
Hands finger the ball
Tossed down the lane
And tossed from the mound
Hands caress the back of necks
There are boy’s hands
Tender in their twenties
And firm hands of mature men half pass fifty
Hands brush and hands mold clay
Hands chisel at marble
And sew at making rag dolls
Hands are paid to stay busy
You can loose conciseness
Of your hands tuck them out of sight
Cold blooded hands bent on taking a life
Hands grip handles
And hard plastic
Hands pray but
Never ask questions
Hands are goody, goody-goody good shoes
And handsome ruby red rude
Hands play checkers
And hands play chess
Dominos slapped the pieces down
Hands give a toast all around
We lay our heads on our hands
Stuff them beneath out thighs
Hands wipe the eyes
Hands tie shoes and ties
And hands peel potatoes
Shake your hand to your self
Say hand you are doing a handsome job
Then kiss your hands good bye.

In the middle

In the middle
Of two bodies
Warm bank of
Slippery mud
I dare delay
The tongues of
Pleasure
I approaching
Sweet delight
Of the smallest wind
Cat my cock
The erect ears
To hear
A church of
Sunday school birds
Mud excites the thighs
It dries
Caked to the skin.

There was a time

There was a time that
That you could find me in the gym
Pumping iron beside men that pleases me
That worked like a self-portrait
Of fit and firm necessity.
My guns are locked and my pistol cocked
I strutted like a peacock in heat
Peafowl, peafowl, peafowl
Pumping iron like Schwarzenegger
Peacocking on the stage
Before other men who judged me
A fine specimen of a man.
In and out, up and down
On my way to being muscle bound
There was a time when matters of my muscles
Meant something bulk of my body
Till I grew older and ate lean
Now I am a beer belly bull body to love
But still in love with me.

When love’s fire flame

Who should pursue
When love’s fire flame
Warm in the ready hands
And you call him daddy?
What body embody the
Perfect love between boys
Who interrupt the night with love?
Love is precocious of the hearts it seeks
And it quenches the massive desires that we keep
And it recognize the body for what it is
A flash made machine that is willing to give and get.
Love is a wiggle of expressions
That is more powerful then the words I love you.

The man I love is passing fair

The man I love is passing fair
The rich auburn color of his hair
The fierce motion of his stoke
Is big enough to act as a yoke
The tender gesture that he made
Linger here, yes it stays
The smile he pushed from his face
Hints at the heroic of his race

I remember well when we met
With his drink on the dance floor
He spilled it on my chest
It should had been a sign to me
That he is a man who enjoys too much drink
But I too have my common faults
None here to talk about.

The fair men whom pass my way
I have nothing to woo or say
For I have a man who treats me right
From daylight rendezvous to sexual night
We have grown into each other
And love each other as we love our brothers
Yes this fair man that holds my heart
Gives a love not easily torn apart.

Baseball players have the worst body in sports

Baseball players have the worst body in sports
Gymnast and swimmers have the best
High board divers are fit and firm in form
And football players have to much fat
Ballet dancers look fine in their cups
Long distance runners are tight by their breath
Weight lifers are much to bulky in their built
So which is it that I like best?
It is the ice skater that takes my heart
Their movement of grace pleases me to no end
The way they twist trill and bend
The way they lean upon the narrow blade
Jump and sway with a skater’s grace.

In St. Louis the boys

In St. Louis the boys
Gather at night to pause
Beneath a cloud
To count the industry
Of circumcision
Driven by the memories
Of needles of the moment
Their bodies clothed in
Rough beauty that sleeps
In the breast of comrades
Who ache for Walt Whitman
Who ache between the river
And the sexual Satyr
Among the billboards
That howls to be heard
Like the taste of the
Nude Mississippi
That groan at the
Shore of St. Louis.
The boys, yes the boys
Darker then swamp water
The boys with pricks
The size of a long finger
They huddle at the corner of the river
Where the word faggot was drowned
And the blaze of the burnt color water
Decompose its rich
Stores of dying things.
In the wardrobe of a solitary man
Whose tongue is caked with
River mud and enemies
Of the desires that reaches
Out as branches
To pierce the pillow
Is to be found the secrets
That he keep in his back pocket.
The boys who stoned to death tomorrow
By their faith that foul
The silent sleepless
Motion of the water
The boys are swimming
The classical river
They celebrate the edge
Of the river with the words
Father of the waters
That celebrates nothing human.

Illuminated

Illuminated
Nobel and loud
In his beauty
Nude
And noble loud
In his stand
Solitary
They pits the boys
Against the girls.
Prostitution
The green eyes look
For the passing cars
Each a john
With silent on their lips
Urban
Full of thoughts
Of my enemies
The war they brought
To my door steps
The wardrobe of darkness
Laid out in the public square
Pure
The love of men
In their handsome stand
In the landscape of the mire
Of the city
Lovely
The boys at the bank
Crowded around a fallen comrade
Killed by gay bashers
Confused
That man can be so cruel.

A week break to catch up on my reading

I am taking off a week from writing any new Gay poems so that I can catch up on my reading. I hop that all my readers will take the time to read the earlyer post of this blog as there are over 600 post here and I hope that you will come back in a week to read the new poems. Thank you. Love David

My love making is an ancient event

My love making is an ancient event
Of pink skin against my dark brown
I am self conscious of this
For I have been told by some brother that I
Am the queen of snow as snow queens goes
But my love knows no skin color boundaries
But still I bear the burden of a race
Done wrong and this gets at the heart
Of my self definition
Am I a gay black or a black gay?
As I wish to be paradigmatic
In the world I must say
That the first you see of me is my skin
My gayness I keep within known only
By the telling of it and this is no triviality
But a matter of great important to me
When it comes to straights sexually
I do not care for them for they
Have not the mind set to properly love a man
And I find their spirits not as radiance
As their misuse of the Most High for their own device
So let it be said here and everywhere
That I am a black gay man by the make of my skin.

I assembled all the lovers that I have known

I assembled all the lovers that I have known
The yellow haired, the black haired and the auburn.
The beautiful and the common who held me dear
Some for less then a year.
The White men, the Latinos and the Blacks.
I separate my old lovers from those who I just sexed.
As my mind recall all was eager to give themselves
Even if for a short spell still they loved me fair
And I took each as the one
Even the raspberry hair boy that I loved in High School.
Where O where are they know, lost in the telling of time
And now they all comes to mind although now they are refined
By the passing of human time
As we tend to recall only the goods that each do to us
None of them did me wrong, it’s just I had to move on
For those were my wandering years
And for them now I must pay
With this loneliness of my elder age
But be it not to late as I wait
For a new lover to take hold of me.

Get down on your knees boy

Get down on your knees boy
Get down on your knees
You better say mister please boy
You better say mister please
My whip is strong to lash at your back boy
My whip is strong to lash at your back
The whelps it leaves is a lover’s attack boy
The whelps it leave is a lover’s attack
I’ll tie you up and leave you along boy
I’ll tie you up and leave you along
You’ll suck my dick as I whistle a song boy
You’ll suck my dick as I whistle a song
The more I whip the harder you’ll come boy
The more I whip the harder you’ll come
I’ll shot my cum on your tongue boy
I shoot my cum on your lips

I recognize your smell

I recognize your smell
I have felt it with your body heat
Beneath the bed sheets
From the first moment when you was
A play doll that I toyed with
That night onward and beside
The closet if full of your smell
Collecting in the darkness
I have come to cherish it
As something most profound.
Sometimes your clothes are
An embodiment of our love
Convincing me that you are a phantom
Talking to yourself like a kitten
Playing with some imagery catch
Quick it out stare me and I am dazzled
By the way you are your brown eyes
And dark skin as if it’s a bagde of
All our history of a race stunned
From time to time by your expression of love
You are the source of all my everything sexual
And your love consumes me as a fire to wood
And I rise phoenix like self-sufficient
With you by my side for we togather
Are one in our love of the other.

Something is gnarling at my dreams

Something is gnarling at my dreams
Of statue men who are wrestling in the nude
Flowers are blooming from their eyes
And the shadows of their breath are a rumor
That takes the time to tell me that truth is leaching
The guardians of my red sleep.
I smell the work-a-day sweat that smells
Of spent firecrackers gloomy with
Yesterday also spent by the clocks
That no longer tic their tock in a round about way
I approach the listening post where
Stairwell lead forward to the assembled
Beautiful yellowish boys who lifted their eyes
To the inner structure of their demeanors
Eager to please the cutting edge kind to the hands
That would hold with warmth of heart and firm
As self-contained glory of the warm flesh of
Strange men who are willing to touch the forgotten prick
Renewed with an erection growing as mushrooms
In the dark warmth of their flesh-color garden
My dreams are distributed throughout my body
That can not be dispelled by the wants that I wait for
When the handsome boy with his thick hunger
Rehearse what he will say to woo me from my
Current eucalypus lover that choked on his own adultery.
I need a man dedicated to my expression of love
One inserted in my dark flesh that breakthrough
To all of my raceous history.

I say almost as I go

I say almost as I go
Toward the roots of my family tree
In the afternoon of delightful English
That my friend speaks
The last time I felt like this
When the American poets
Clothed themselves in fantastic words
Of spoken everything of an anthology
That studied the extremely demagogue
Of Protestant belief.
I tell you this because the worst imaginable
Fifteen days of a boy running his write toward
A poem about the mother of sorrows was
An Oriental extraordinary evidence
Of the profundity of everything.
The Catholic are not free to love the man
Like angels who treat the immensity
Of their body of custom of superior of devoted
Gestures faithful toward old women
Who incense the Russian church.
I say this to you from the intensity of my heart
As I kneel over two hours moving backward
Toward the admirable virgin boy who is affection
With his Italian toy
The beautiful boy primitive with his sex full of emotions
That distinguishes itself from the crucifix that bursts
Into embroidered music as charming as the
Last rite given in the wee hour of sexual motion
Of a kind and innocent guitar draped in a
Granada silk shawl
But his heart was full of a dark Spanish song
In the tone of spoiled children of the circumference
Of memories and the town people saw him as a fisherman
Of darkness and silent distances.
His solitude reached the sharpened sea
Where the crows was turning pale in the
Backedup wreckage of sharp knifes
Beneath the trembling yellow of blow thunder
Sounding like war found in the red dawn of
Dead clothes that covered the shoulders
Of busted bombs with their ignorance
As dumped bodies that litter the landscape
Where agony grows like sudden grass
Eaten in the broken bedroom where coffins
Of bitterness are planted as pure flowers
Speechless as boric acid of celestial words
Suddenly squeezed from anthills.
This young boy was midnight black with delirium
But his bright years murmured in the looking glass
Of complaint fluid as jumbled rivers running
Toward eternity when the dawn stumbled
Over the rain cloud bellowing full of frost and
Nocturnal dreams divine as misunderstood
Liberty caught in the breeze of a burnt tongue

With special intensity

With special intensity
He made his self delicious
From head to toe
For the man who can appreciate
The shine in his eyes
When the season grows cold.
Naturally he was hungry and horny
For attention in his stunning
Magnificent dress
That one wouldn’t ware
To a communion or convent
Unless he wish to be unforgettable
And rival the robe of the priest.

It was my craving

It was my craving
That he stared at
Something in my eyes
That caught him.
I looked like
Narcissus looking
Into the water
Unable to escape
The lean surface
Of his glare.
Our look at each other
Was ravenous and round
Neither wishing to withdraw.
There was a soft darkness about him
And I drowned
In his beauty drowned
Away all the noise of the bar.
What is it to do when the look is hard
And honest toward the attention of
No other
What found fortune can be seen in the eyes
Of a love object beautiful and full of admirable emotion
I sent him a drink and he came over to thank
I appreciated his attention to details
Of his manner of dress
As the night wore on we became affectionate.
His name told me that he was of Italian descent
With reddish hair and a Russian built
I swear that as I talked to him I heard
A choir singing hymns as we preformed the primitive
Rite of mating by the wooing that
Each of us gave.
The last call came and we agreed on breakfast
At a little out of way the café before
We did the dance of consecrating our love making.
Over the year I have look for those eyes of his
But none other was found as distinguished.

Where do we escape

Where do we escape
To drown ourselves in love
And do love flows like water
Moving down hill toward
Your feelings that feed
On the immensity of
Your good laughter
Betrayed by the immense
Civilization of your smile
The city is huge in the swagger
Of your hips and the mute music
Of an elevated train of complicated
Matter exquisitely polite greet
Your amusement head on
Rivers are imposing in their
Pose and so is love put together
By the togetherness of strong hearts.
In the late night the trains are
Melancholy with silent necessary
To the laughter of the heart
To the stalled flow of quality
In search of a lover friend
Almost crazy for lost love that flows
With the rawness of extraordinary
Days of pleasure.
The rivers are really indescribable
Save as twelve billion drops of
Arguing water.
The rivers are a government of flowing
Unbearable screaming caught in the tears
Of cement hands huge as the bottom feeders
Running hard like enormous responsibility
Rivers are pretentious in their flow
Pass small towns where the theater
Is playing out the love of men for the
Loveliest of men found sitting beside
The river moving slowly as warm honey
They are simply charming and fantastic
As moving clouds of spoken for morning
Rivers are fervent authorities of the flow
Of complete atheist that put patriarch on hold
So that they can flows pass the vestment
Of boyish virgins and admirable catholic
Saints of splendorous innocent.

Always and forever

Always and forever
Will we melt into one
But not without disagreement
And this is more then a suggestion
But all you want to do is fuck
One may think that this is good luck
But it’s your heart that I want
Not just your lust.
Put a glove on it I tell you
When you find someone willing
To let him mount you
Because I am not willing tonight.
You need to unhorse your love making
You need to find you a boy toy on the side
I really don’t mind
For I am wholly sensitive
As your pulled back foreskin
To your needs and mines
Our is more tender then your hard nipples
That you like me to suck.
You want to write your name in cum
On my thigh
But baby not tonight
I hide under the cover
And you fuss while pacing the floor
So this is true love
To disagree from time to time
From time to time not to see eye to eye
Or heart to heart but let it not tear us apart
There are many men whom count you
As a catch worth fishing for
Go to them to fulfill your sexual needs
But come back home to me.
You ask how much I love you
I love you pass the measure of our sex
And that should be enough for any man
We have grown into each other over the years
Don’t you think that by now I know you?
I have come to know that some times
Love can be massy, yes this is true
As found out by the loving of you.

I pushed my heart into yours

I pushed my heart into yours
Yes I entered with force
Entered taunt of muscles
Erect and warm to be your man
Persistence paid off when I projected
Myself into your heart
I know that the beautiful part
Of my love is my delectation
To the hardest part
My bottom was willing
And relaxed to sleep beside you
Willing to snug up close to your skin
When half the night was done you entered in
And sweated your love to a willing man.

Rock me in the cradle of your love

Rock me in the cradle of your love
Let me sleep beside you in the long winter nights
Our coupling is located in out heated hearts
Where everything is pointing to God
Who has blessed us to never part.

When it comes to male love

When it comes to male love
I am long on thoughts of the sexual snake
Between my legs and I can be dazzle
Into consuming his sweat with my tongue
The pale blue eyes of my love look after me
And he is the source of my everything sexual
But our love is self-sufficient
Self-consuming of its heat that burns
His touch into my foundation.
Trapped in my bones from the
First instant of my birth I was gay
And now bearded faced I inhale
His scent trapped beneath the bed sheet with
His body heat.
Our love making is a ritual and
The ceremony of his kiss is firm
Against my lust for him.

Nature recognize

Nature recognize
That to choose a man
As love object is her
Handiwork of good intention.
She realize the keeper of the flesh
Sweet with blank hands
Wandering over hard bodies
Is a matter of the love’s breath
Sung in the lungs of making love.
The darkest man is my heart’s desires
The smoky man is no phantom
Stiff as a manikin in the display window
But he is the embodiment of what
God gives us to develop to its fullest intent.
Gay love has convinced me that God is gracious
By the spoken word of homosexual
Sponsored by the Lord.

An animal

A man
Yes something
As simple as that
Is meant to be love
To drive you crazy
With the smell of his sweat
When yours and his body converge
Beneath enormous crystal sheets
A man
Yes something
As complicated as that
His love is translucent with pleasure
And his sex unending, unending
Yes endless the feel of his touch
The touch of animals in love
An animal
Yes something
As human as that

In the afternoon of a great deal

In the afternoon of a great deal
Almost as friendly as a family of beavers
I root from beneath the trembling light
Loose and drunken as dreams stalled
In the head of my bed of daggers
My undying nakedness shown to the world
For I am not a shame to be bare
For I ware my bold skin as if it is rare.
The multitudes of my scream
Is as blue as an industry of disappointed poems
Poems as nervous as my pen which has accomplish
The eternal beauty of a black woman
Meant to surprise you with her marvelous
Grace of angles with their simple form
Of love making behind the cabin where genuine
Understanding was born.
In the afternoon the circumstance of my explanation
Is speaking in Spanish with an African accent
And some where two hundred years are dying on the tongue
Of ancient breathing marvelous and quiet as
Tops of skyscrapers overgrown with moss
My distinction is famous for its rhythms
Full of the architecture of anguish and my poems are moist
With spiritual element for the man who wake up beside me.
Last night he entertained me with the immensity
Of his sex and the windows of my bed room relaxed
And the impressions of his bold body is like the blowing
Of a trumpet of hugs and kisses

O how sweet your smile

O how sweet your smile
You handsome above all.
What hunger of pleasure
Do you wait for?
What man you hold
True to your measure?
Where do you go
When the street light dim?
I picture you in a bed
Of red sheet wet with sweat.
I picture your strong neck
Leading down to bare
Broad shoulders
And beautiful chest
Untan but legs tangled
In the sheet where you rest
With your dreams of little drama
Playing out in your head.
You toss aside the sheet
In one smooth motion
And you are bare butt.
What man is lucky
To lie beside you?

Gentle man

Gentle man
How well you stand
Out in your clothes
That fit you well
And I can tell
By the way you
Look me up and down
That for the night
You would take my
Poetic crown.
Your shadow under
The street light
Stretched on the ground
Shifts its weight
As you rearrange
Your stance
Your crotch bugle
Beneath your pant
Your neck look
Full and strong
A cop passing by
Tells you to move on.

A mechanical frenzy

A mechanical frenzy
Is yellowing its way
From the poem unidentified
By lost typewriters
Born in February when the telegraph died.
You can see its corpse in the deep water
That has escaped the human trash that floats
In a country of forest where paper was born.
You can hear its ghost clothed by Prometheus
Who wrote the manuscript of emptied space
And rolled the great stone that sits
On his shoulders.
He wants to dance beneath his heavy load
And Harlem his way with the globe
As if he was a doorman gathering
The sunlight from between his fingernails
To mold it into an abandoned child of the
Lost God that murmurs his footsteps
On the blueness of grass and fluid complaints
That cries so many miles toward the madness
Of condolences.
The affectionate computer
Has written this poem as beautiful
As a lecture of women who are but
A copy of generosity nailed to the mask
Of a lost manuscript of insomnia.
This poem of swirling void that
Engender a drop of stone faces
Quickly sucks at the cheeks of the sea,
At the rock of the moon’s light that hides
Behind everything of the genuine spirits’
Innocent of hearing voices rusty with
Horror, rusty as a young sailor’s affection.
Come play with me beside the published
Water that produce difficulty for
Fishes made of paper, let it be the sound of your breath
Approximately wild as wide-eyed throats
Used to suck the alleluia from your tongues
Murmuring hopes from the whisper of trains
Running toward the crowd of climate wrought by sharp clouds,
The boyish clouds full of self-consciousness
And explanation and religious hummingbirds
Leaping from flower to speaking in tongues
When the naked wind mock the wounded
Children who have lost the pharmacies
Of circumscribed foreskin.
This poem kills the wisdom in favor of pure circumstance.

Inside of a tight warm place

Inside of a tight warm place
The flesh of sunlight completely
Heats the uproar of guitar played
By engrossed flames that sings
The blue cathedral of dancing
Angels who unfortunately are full
Of serrated sorrow that applause
The double winter of the Chrysler building
Huge as a child’s smile when a ship of bridges
Sail into the harbor of delirium
Bitten by a transparent dog barking
At the sexual dark that has loss its power
To hide nocturnal the bovine couples
Amputated by the street lights down on Columbia street
Where a picket fence of Chinese glue is laced with
The direction that will carry you to Havana.
I am loosing my Trinidad warmth to the
Cold hands of a child trained to speak on command
When the weight of warm water realize that it is
Stronger then desperation of colder
Criticism issued by the American
Chauffeurs who ignores the rust of
Determined metal full of muitude
And cradles waiting for anguish babies
Born by the birth of public documents.
In the warm place where
The tender rivers are running wild
The tongues of machines licks the clouds
And billboards the size of a baby’s fist
Is slipping into the ears of Walt Whitman
Who councils the angles in the way of the flesh
And T. S. Eliot is doing a semester in hell
To tell old Satan that the light he brought to earth
Earth has turned mechanical.

My circumcision was a childhood thing

My circumcision was a childhood thing
I do not remember the pain of the cut
But this I know, that it was unkind
It did not put me closer to the divine
And nature does not make excess
The foreskin was meant to protect.

His smell is fresh

His smell is fresh
As grass smoked in a good year.
He climbs my head with his lips
Pass the time spent in bed
Well, he sits lapping at it
Of what I hold between
My legs and I dance
A tune that advance
In the afternoon.
I start to tear myself
Apart from him because
Of the intensity of the intimacy
And sucking sounds
That speaks of sexual flames
Burning both ends.
My sense of intelligence
Is put on hold as his nose
Brush against my thigh
He looks up and stares
Pass my pubic hairs.
This kind of love was
Meant to be had
In the sight of night.
I am reposed
To take my turn
At the blow, to light the flame
Of hearing him calling my name
At the moment when
Gravity is rearranged
And he pop a nut
Full of his daughters and sons
Swimming pass my tongue.
Some men’s pricks are tough as stalks.
Some heads glows red with
Rushing blood while some men’s pricks
Are the darkest parts of their bodies.
Some men’s prick imitates the opening of a flower
Pulling themselves erect against the suck.
Some men are restless in their fuck
Lean by their bodies their tongues flicker
At the tip of a dick wet with pre cum.
Some men’s pricks are bent in a gentile genital curve
The warmth of some men’s lips is full and complete
While some are crude and unrulely in their twitch
At the moment that they explode.
I am fish trying to reach the beach
Of his thighs apprehended by his desires
As he guild my head for more force
And dictates the rhythm that he appreciate.

Red haired his body skin

Red haired his body skin
Has the strawberry’s spot color
Of pressed finger nail.
He was pulsating with desires
Dazzling in his common beauty
That set him apart from
The youths I see everyday
Yes his beauty was as hard as knuckles
He throbbed his way through the streets.
To look at him is to make you weep
Tears of joy for the beauty of the boy.
His beauty had a kind of abstraction
Part James Dean and Johnny Depp
Of Twenty-one Jump Street
And part Jack Kerouac.

He was a dancer for the Boston ballet

He was a dancer for the Boston ballet
Some what feminine in his form
But toned and tight in his small muscles.
We met one night at a late night restaurant
That opens after the bars close
Met over hash and eggs and wheat toast.
A mature friend introduced him to me
Saying that I was an amazing poet
Worth knowing. I thanked him
But declined the invitation because
He was to young to capture my heart.
I have sworn off boys half my age
For men like me closer to the grave.

It is more then mere perception

It is more then mere perception
Of what sex we are born to love
And sex when the time is right.
It is a furious need God given
And by this I mean nature who
Rules my life, she is everywhere seen
And has the proven herself to be the heat
Of the ready earth.
I picked up a fallen petal and I am
Reminder of your touch the last time
We busted a nut bare to the bone.
You have torn away my armor
Containing the lies of my youth.
You have untangled my hair from the hangers
Of the closet where my lies was born
Huddled there for too many years
You ferryed me across the threshold
Into the light of a healthy love fit for true men.

Down to the shine of a forward face

Down to the shine of a forward face
Seen in a sea of faces where the street incline
By 40 degrees, I can pick out the body that I need.
The slick dress and tangle hair
He wears his sexuality on his sleeves
Imperceptible to all but those who knows
The bold centaur back of his sexual blow.
He peacock his way beneath the smoke-like clouds
A fair face wild with promised desires
The blond down of his chin pleasant with a smile as he pass
He is twice all of some 11 years, a youth
And just this side of a brown skin
Gray eyes in his stare full of passion.
Born of a million years of evolution.
His sexual habit is in his walk.
This youth is unique to talk about
Green shirt and cobalt jeans
He is brilliant in what he means to me.
There is ripeness in the way that he carries himself.
A knowing that he is beautiful
And much in demand by boys and men alike

I hunger for the nakedness of shadows

I hunger for the nakedness of shadows
Pale as weeds that quiver that
Separate their shadows on the ground.
Today unlike yesterday I am uncomposed
By my old bones caught in their obsession
Of greed for the man who walks
The shrill streets continually.
I watch out for the labor
Of his pushed love bearing
The fruits of his strong back
When he bear back his weight
To mine and our body rhyme
In the sexual balance
As if we swim in a sea of sweat.

My dreams are wise

My dreams are wise
And wild with indifference.
Today it rained the pacific
In the Midwest and my dreams
Was laid to rest tugging to
Hold on to my chill sleep.
The earth weeps the sponsor clouds
Withdrew from pressing winds
And the brown leaves played a game in the streets.
I shouldered the rain, the tiny rain
That galloped together around a purr
Given by a homeless cat prudence it its strength.

Black men black man

Black men black man
Why you be so mean?
I only want to woo you
With a song so let
Me sing, sing, sing.
I know you love the boy
For I have seen ‘em kissing you
So let me woo, woo, woo.
I can be true by the loving of you
And my body is lean
My love is clean, clean, clean
So let me sing, sing, sing.

A grown man waits

A grown man waits
By tomorrow until
He could wait no more.
His shoes are caked with fresh mud
From a day of sour rain
Sharp a five million light years of thought.
His sticking desires renewed
By the damaged innocence
Of his routine and multiplicity
Of what it means to be gay down to the waist.
He is waiting on a would be lover
Whose ribbed body is as lean as consciousness.
With no reduced armor he is waiting
To give freely the weight of his love
As pressing as the moment that press
On the seconds of passing time.

The dead forearm of my sleep

The dead forearm of my sleep
Slid between my thighs
Weathered by silence wisteria
Of suspension and sexual understanding.
My thighs was warm
As the sleeping breathe
Of a minute opening.
I was listening to the lash-key
Of a dominate accidental fire
That raged full of a black widow’s mercy
That woken me with the mildness
Of running around the clock
That ticked its tock soft as green
Seen in the deeper distant of a broken night.
Each side of the lamp’s light was as old as
Gravity longing to hold the tug of the moon.
Then I remembered the transparency
Of a random irregular stare given
By a baby whose shadow was trembling
On the ceiling where muffled cold
Grew as dark as charcoal.
Everywhere within me my body house smells
Of transitory speech and moss seeping
Smally but bold into the permanent dribbled
Protection traced by a knife blaze across the gone day.
My speech is in earnest toward its completion
Of adventuring from the birth smelling of ammonia and almonds
And harden snow leathery and pale as biting the root of magic.
I did a tough dreaming the night before my
Flower broke the dungeon of my dream.
I wet what is never seen by the moon’s light
That clings to the vacancy of the Godhead
That rings the skull of the sea washing up onto
Swollen understanding that the body is a fence
Edged in with all my waitings.

With dissatisfaction

With dissatisfaction
I clasped your wounded heart
Torn apart by the flagship of night
When the father of the holy son
Cleaned the sheets of rain
Running down the windowpane.
It is evening when you come
On a clean towel and your stable sons
Was swimming for their lives.
To sex the self is a common act
That has seen the light warm
And foresworn beside the
Cold death held in the jerk
Of your member.

My love for him passes

My love for him passes
From yesterday
To today on to tomorrow
It is strong enough to wait
Your touch and suck
Like a baby on passing time.
I love you with my rhymes
That binds my love
Like a stitched quilt
Fashioned by the divine.
You have connected
Your touch into mine
And when we fuck
I cry out that there is no other who can
Hold me to your sweat
Salty on my tongue.
No, no other to lie
Breast to breast
Back to chest
In a sleep that
Proclaim that we
Are gathered together as one
And when I come
You are the one
Who taste my sons
On your tongue.

I love you dear

I love you dear
I love you dear
With all that I keep
Within me. My hands
Love you, my legs too.
My heart is only true
To the love of you
So let me woo
And move on you
Like the wind through trees,
Let me squeeze and
Joyously weep the peace
Found in love because
I love you dear
I love you dear
With all the expectation of tomorrow.

I am the last captive

I am the last captive
To be set free
From a poem born
From my changing of action
Beneath the longing
Of the word circle.
All my hopes I keep
Secret according
To my needs to woo you.
I described all my faults
Without a doubt of the shapes of things
Dreamt and my things are passionate
And huge enough to analyze
The disconcerting of my moods.
I am the handiwork of God
And my mother caught
Between my growing.
I bear the likeness of my father
But I am myself totally
Tongue tied with material things
That points to the becoming history of me.
Inside I keep a stranger of mind
Who rhymes the arrival of a poem.
I am your poet born
To woo you with words
Small ones and large
Hung words of men’s
Love for the full grown boys
Prudent words given by God
Whole words that stood apart
Bear words as bright as understanding
Violent words like nigger and dyke
The perplexity shape of me full of words
And I can no longer complain
That the face I glanced in the windowpane
Is not the son of the man I distain.
I am a poacher of poems found in my brain
Pigheaded enough to repair the excitement
Of the word where
And the constant draw back of a swear

Summer was kilt by the fall’s rains

Summer was kilt by the fall’s rains
And the land is full with heavenly hay
The cows are in the stalls
And the horses graze
On the slow growth of grass.
A boy half the age of tomorrow
Is dreaming of yesterday
As fall climb down from
The trees golden with dead leaves.
The leather men are dressed
For the night, to catch a colt
And love him right.
The wind is as sharp as a knife
Nipping at the sight
Of fresh manure on the farm
Where boys are playing men
In their pretence to capture
What is right about being men.

Lover boy how come

Lover boy how come
You ware your jeans
Beneath the hips?
How come you run
Toward the battle
That fills the northern
Streets of St. Louis?
How come you call me faggot
By day and during the night
We lay in each other’s arms?

He tight

He tight
Reaches
The accumulated
Riches of reason.
He step like
A town
Opening up
On a Firday night.
His warm grasp
Boisterous
And accurate
Without loss.
Around the hell
That is found
In a spell issued
By the sun.
I admire
What it is
That he aspires to
The self-flattery
Of unreal lovers
Passionate and greasy
In the late night
Where he escapes
The violent shapes
Hiding in the shadowy dark.
He is huge
In his love giving
Disconcerting
Of the whores
That lines the streets.
He is knowing
Of his showing
Before the
Swinging door of the bar
He is beautiful
In his complaints
Against the heat
Of bodies sweating
On the dance floor.
He suppose
To settle back
With his sensitivity
Lingering of excitement
Weightless as silent.
His distant youth
Fills the space
Of his face
And abruptly
The years scatter
Like element
Of dead leaves
Golden in their fall.

I had a change

I had a change
To glance, to observe
What some men hold in reserve
The anticipation of recognition
That the erection strengthens as it lengthens
But he was drunk as a sailor on leave
Drunk as if he had drunken the sea
Drunk completely to approach me.
His advance smelling of gin
Did not delight my night
So I did not let him in.
Some men drink to get the courage
To approach some other man
To bring themselves to win the prize
Of the lust seen in the eyes
But I need no such fortitude
To woo what I recognize
Who I want to lay by my side
The potentiality is always there
To correspond over drink
But I will not sink into drunkenness
For it diminishes the pleasure found
In the arms of a boy fully grown.

Men by men make a love

Men by men make a love
Meant by the musk of underarms
Love sent from above
Cause God is one who loves
This make of man
Who embrace the making of
This man that remember the
Tender limbs and dark skin
That will come again.
All in all the love that falls
From the hands of angles who call
That men should make amend of man
And woo with wishes that has won,
To hold on tight to his heart,
That none in anger can tear apart.
This mode of pleasure that is prime
To love the man for all times
To speak his leisure with rhymes
And will to still find him fine.
Those who condemned
Shall themselves find their end
For man by man shall win.
So put a guard on your tongue
For love of love has rightly won
And you in the sad debris of sad distress
Shall know no Godly rest
When you distain the loving game
The man’s love that came
From the heart and you deny
Him a ring.

My love follow

My love follow
The swallow birds
In the undergrowth
Both violence and tame
By the sense of words.
Come my boy hum your words
Between my thighs.
Your impersonality
Is robust with noise
The hardness of your whereabouts
Press hard in the field that yields
To the control of the soul of the sun
The route we go wait the break
Of the world hurled around the sun.
The corn field goes through the holiness
Of its purposes of its best at rest
And the Saint’s motion is complete
By the damned movement
Necessary to the instinct of it moment.

My love for you degrade

My love for you degrade
For you have been mean
And I evade you eyes
Full of faded lies.
I must hast upon
My once of common sense
To renounce the taste
Of his truth held true
To conform to his youth.
The taste of him is on my mouth
The dust of his hair
Must bear unsatisfied
Our feeble-limbed love
Must die on the wind.

There is a man

There is a man
That goes through the alley
I lust for him
And I truth my lusting
He is married. I
Have seen his wife
And children. Still
My heart pines for him.
This is new to me
To lust at a distant
For someone unknown
Who years ago were betrothed
To some other.
I will not approach
But I can not say
That I will not pen
My lust in a poem.

Where did I place my desires?

Where did I place my desires?
I meant to hide it from myself
Not under the pillow or under bed
The infinite search of finitude found
The slow combinations of smoky variations
Can hide in the unfinished delight
That diminished the touch
Where in the delight of the night stills its shape
Filled with the rings of things chained to the mast
Of absolute grass smoked by the mass
That does not fear the spear of the law
If you smoke a joint I give you points for being
On the right side, the same for the drinking of beer
And rolling your tongue among the devotion
Of an initiation into the passion of desires.
I have passion for my desires that calculate and
Detonate where desires are when they have gone lost
Cold in the hold on of the heart held in from the skin
From the nature of his narrow features
That is a danger to the stranger who wishes
To woo him in another mirror
My passion for Art Blakey and Dizzy rings
In my Thelonious ears of jazz a razzed
Of breath caught in the trumpet and the saxophone
Blowing my mind with a breath filled song
That heals the still skill said of the bed
Where lovers play breathlessly
And feel again to heal the pain of some lover boy
Who can not handle the scandal found
Round midnight where the everywhere pubic
Hair is caught between the teeth of a man
Who feet walk the outstretched streets
My desires are pressed somewhere at rest
Beneath the head of the dead bed swinging
The skip of a ship turning on words
My desires that once exercised the eyes by
Looking at a beautiful man who shift his left hip
In the dance, he disguised against the cries
Of fresh flesh, he move to the groove
Of Miles Davis and unlock the box of my desires
But he is only playing the same game the tear-jerker plays
Still my lips wish to grip the contempt I once dreamt
When I was sunk in drunk jealousy and could not leave his bones along
My desires always appear near the shape of my escape
From what is lost because I had the present of mind
To hide it from me
I have caught a case for love in the place
Of night’s delight when his beauty
Shot me through the eye and I forgot
Not to fall in love again
My member enlarged and now it has discharged
The sons of everyone, tall and small fat and thin, all
Who cried the side of what most I have lost
When the Holy Ghost was fix to its innocence
And the pleasure of my leisure was lost
Within my passion.

Country boys can find comfort

Country boys can find comfort
In my heart impermanent
Beating its desires for the golden hair
Of common love fold in the sun light
Where passion is on display when sex blaze
Picturesque and hygienic.
The common ground from which grows
The common boy shouldering with his ideal of the city
Is leaving the farm to hustle his muscle under the bright neon.

I stroked and stroked

I stroked and stroked

I stroked and stroked
Encrusted red and woo the
Yellow of what is said.
Open is all my blues
And bridges of orange
Are decaying too.
Purple was once my lover
And I sexed with green
Under the covers.
I have inhaled the golden brown
When we were planted in the ground
And silver came down
From heaven where color was born
And from the silent black was born a son
As white unfurl like a parachute’s thread.

He looked like

He looked like he
Escaped from
The last supper by Bassano
The seated boy beneath Christ’s hand
The curly haired one
He was wet from walking in the rain
He had just broken up with his lover
Of a year and wanted me to tell him how
Necessary it was for him to carry on
But I didn’t have the energy to hear
All night what was the cause of the break
But as a poet I had a duty
To consol him so I opened the book in my head
Of broken hearts. Let see
1) let him get his anger out by punching a pillow
2) tell him that he is better off and love
Will come around again
O the hell with it I opened a bottler of Tanqueray.

Each body is a resource

Each body is a resource
That we can take advantage of.
The way that man walk
Swing his hip momentarily
Locked in each step forward.
The way that man swings his arms
To some music that only he can hear.
The way this one panting breathlessly
From his run from the gay bashing boys
With their mop handle clubs
The breathing of this man’s breath
Caught in a poem that begs for applause
The Italian skin color of a
Virgin boy hunting for the first time
To love without regret
Our bodies are symmetrical
We are a paring of arms, hands, legs and lips
Are we the best paring that nature could come up with?
Our body is a body inform by our dreams
And the love that we give to others we deem worthy
Of our secret and our public touch
Our bodies share their warmth under the covers
They share their scent which is unique
To this and that make of men
Out bodies are meant to withstand the labor
Of a less mechanical time, our minds are overgrown
With unused section for a time that we will grow into our skin.

There was a man

There was a man
Who fought fire with fire
When it came to the sexual art
And he was no stranger to being burnt
And the burning of others.
It was par for the course
Do unto other
And he did time and time again
Until the fire caught him unprepared
By something as simple as a rubber
And now as his body grows thin
So to do his flame flutter in a thin wind
Of a body under attack.

He was tight

He was tight in his
Lean body
With tight jeans and muscle shirt
His appetite was swollen
With city light and tender
With the richness of his phycal present.
He was looking for a brute
A torn edge man uncompleted
He was testing the limit of the streets
Just how far will his beauty take him
What limp rejection would seek to wound him.

There was a seedy gay bar

There was a seedy gay bar
Down on Broadway in Denver.
It was more tacky then seedy
With plastic flowers
And bare red light bulbs
And Christmas decoration
That they never took down
It catered to the most common of common men
Who drunk beer while talking of foot ball
Odd enough it was where the old queens went to die
You could hear them in the flame of their youth saying
Honey I’ll never play the Den” But they did
And was lucky to get the gig
Because from time to time
Some beautiful young drag would come in
As if visiting an old folks home
To learn from the pros
But it was always the old queens that I held dear
For their brave beauty half faded half enhanced
By age, their beer bellies that bugle their gowns
The caked on makeup meant to hide
The forward march of time
They were old hands at the art of illusion
Those neglected teachers in sequin
They are called old school
A name that hangs about their necks as a yoke
You would think but its not so
They bear their body proud pound for pound.

I drew back the curtain

I drew back the curtain
And you flipped warm water
From your hair
Your brown body swollen
With drops of bathe water
Your prick half covered
By sugg is enticing under water
As if I was a fish and it was a turtle
Wagging its tongue to lure me in.
You are the one and only beautiful you
I draw back the blinds of the window over the tub
To see the moon shine and I turned off the light
To see if each drop on your skin
Would hold an image of the moon
And they did
‘You look like mother nature’ I say.
I dip my hand in the warm water
And trail my finger tips up your thigh
You look heavenly in moon light
Half hidden beauty wet with moons.
It was never hard to love you
Your voice in the darkness reassures me of that.

What is unfolding?

What is unfolding?
What boat upon the smallest formula of water?
What float above the apartment of clouds?
Unfolding is my love for you.
Boating are my correct needs.
Our sex is made upon
The water of clouds
You are the prize at
The end of the rainbow.
What arrows its way
Pass sweet laughter?
What walks the slumber
That sleeps beneath my foreskin?
What is plundering
The words of what I said?
Cupid’s arrow swift
Has struck me hard.
My love walks the little slumber.
Take of me all that you wish
And wish what takes of love
There is an uncharted stubbornness about our love
A rather clumsily intersection where
The atmospheric nature of our love
Is receding beneath the public cover
And plutonic peripheral of the rim of sex
Freely given by nude bodies that inhabit
The very womb of time that makes our love a rhyme
With a rhythm rising in the veins
Of the heart of who we are.
We are men in love with love.
We are men in love with love
In love with the speed of our love
In love with the unexploited spaces of pur love
In love with the thought that you prefer me as lover.

Angles

Angles
Bewildered entanglement
Meticulous art of lying down
The penis from it erect height
I am immersed among
The skin of the rainbow
Where at its end is a pot flesh
Of black men’s foreskin full of pink penises.

The sacred language of sex

The sacred language of sex
The same sexual act
That got me in troubles.
It was raining knifes
And I was feeling nothing but
The release of all the hidden Gods
Whose birdlike angles
Was to full of drunkenness
To deliver me with my courageousness in tack.
You can not mistrust sex, its good or its aint
Sex burns the edges of the heart
And red rum the eyes.
Like I said it was raining knifes
And I had to escape like a slave
To bad manners.

The luxurious darkness of the midnight hour

The luxurious darkness of the midnight hour
Is drifting westward pass the unveiled chest
He finds comfort in the touch of his skin
The land has cease its talking
And the geological motion of time
Is anchored by the rotation that spins
As daylight
Sleep is nostalgia with dreams
With their unusual maneuver
Within the head wrapped in bizarre beauty
Like a beautiful strange Byzantine boy
With strong shoulders and alphabets on his breath
Descending into sleep the women becomes queens
And the ebony man whose skin taste like honey
And buried writings of poems advancing nocturnal
Between the fog of St. Louis and the clouds of Mississippi.
That boy bullies the hips of other men

I was caught in the sudden throat

I was caught in the sudden throat
Of a sexual act
His swimmers came forth with a suck
The fruit of his ball gave their juice
The curved helmet with its one eye
Was swollen blush with blood
All his swimmers that would
Be sons are looking for the egg on my tongue

Africa

Africa
Mother to the
Race of man
Africa
The tender skin
Of desert, of forest
And deep within
Your diamond mines
Africa
The good earth darkened
By the sun
The full feature of
Your native son
Your voice is
Soothing and warm
Africa
Swollen fat with
The bones of Lucy and Ardi
Africa
Ancestor of the
Human world
Before the saints
Africa
Animism
The dead Gods be with you
The mask is carved
The bones are cast
Africa
Azande worriors
With their beautiful boys
Africa
Kilimanjaro
Kibo, mawenzi and shira
Africa
Thebes and the crimes of Darfur
Chem. and Nubia
Of the empire of Ethiopian
Africa
What bones do you bare
What bones burred in your reach dirt?

A young man with yellow hair

A young man with yellow hair
Stood at the bus stop
There were holes in his jeans
But he did not seen homeless or destitute.
His hair fell down over his shoulders
He had a narrow head with narrow features
His hair gave his face a golden glow
He had thin lips and a pointed nose
With gray eyes he looked 18 to 20 by
The way he carried himself with his pants
Down around his butt and
A skake board under his foot
He was singing to himself as the light
Caught his hair and blow it back against his neck.

His touch was colder

His touch was colder
Then the sun light
On the back of my hand.
The feel of the sun’s light
Through my jeans on my thighs
But when he touch me
Within a heat rise
Full of open emotions
It spread throughout my body.
His speech is dull to all but me
The way the day worked him around the edge
He is a song to sing and
Shower with praises
For the make of his body
And the strength it carrys.

O my man

O my man
Before you I
Adjust my strength
And lower my head.
Between my thumb and forefinger
I tenderly rub your scents
Beneath my nose.
You smell like a combination
Of olive oil and almonds
Tonight you lie asleep like a painting
Your body is a sculptured poem
The bed bares the weight of you
And I would have you in my arms
But sleep with your shadow growing from beneath you
As the sun light slowly caress across your half sleep form.

He is caught in a half sleep.

He is caught in a half sleep.
Our history is new this night
As he sleeps I salute him
For the bold make of his skin
How ancient it is a color
That knows how to wait
The color of Guinea and Ghana
A color thought awkward and
Much too bold in its strength
Half cover by the white sheet
He is a sleeping island unto himself

Beautiful man

Beautiful man
I remember you
With your moods
Trailing behind you
Your strive is sure

The wind you make
In your moving forth
Is full with the musk
Of a make of a man
That you are

Mushrooms grows from you skin
Prolong laughter are
Stored up in your passing
I have love the taste on your tongue
Hot tea and a bit of cake.

Did I say the mushrooms
Grows from your pores?
You were always the one
To mother the earth and
Make yourself one with growth.

Greeting original muscles

Greeting original muscles
With your arrogance
Victorious justice
Thick as rusted iron in the Midwest
Your terrifying pressure
Arc over the muscles monument
As splendid as the shoreline
Of the Mississippi a constellation of rivers
Draining into the brunt brown water
You essence is as cold stars
With their poisonous roaming bandits
With the thorniness riding bullets
As innocence of vibrating
And appropriated by
Summer’s thunder ripping
Away all liberties found
In the flood of New Orleans
Caught in its sleep with truth
Of escaping water
Nocturnal and non ritualistic
The scent of magnolia clean
As flesh hanging from
A cottonwood tress.
Some where some one is burning sandalwood
Of Ceylon and invented by the dawn’s dreams
And there is a purple phosphorescent scar on
The heart of the continent that grip the full grown land
With it shadows confused as the eternal winds
That combs the leaves with their vapor of
Dying in the fall of falling fall
The trees are disrobing as skillful at it
As an awakening young gay man
Who enter the jungle of grown up sexual acts
That can sniff out enterprise youth
Wearing a necklace of strong islands
As vast in their magician beauty
Against the dark skin that ebb
And flow like the need for blood’s moment
The blood of St. Louis is alive
With cells of peoples with their possum dreams
Their pulmonic dream full of breath.

The badge I ware

The badge I ware
Is the blackness
Of my skin.
The color racism
Rooted within.
As children
Of the sun
And daughters
Of the moon
We sexed the
Man the women sexed
By noon dawn mid day light.
I am at my boldness
At such an hour
Strong in color
Color of the stayed power

The man means more to me

The man means more to me
Then the bold bodacious boredom
That bites the bit that binds
The history of his high honor hurled
To the high heaven of hours
He is the last love to woo me with
Words of wisdom wrought by wild
Wants that lead to the moist
Matters meant to mind the speed
Of his love making its way
Pass the whirl wind
His love is an escape from
Farm hands, hands hard
And honesty he offer
Hands of hope down the hall
Pass hands that help and
Hinder, whole hands
Hunting hands count the hours
Man’s hands heal the sex that is within me.
The tsunami of a chill enter the land
And fold fast the icing of wilder leaves
Hands that encased by chill’s degree
But he is the melting of the love
Of warmth will fully winding
Its way forth with wind
His hands are those of a lover
A fucker of men he win.
His womanly willing hands
Stands the plan made of plots
Pulling the pull forth pass
Places laid out in the pocket
Where love pass away.

A new bar has opened down the streets

A new bar has opened down the streets
It’s called the Fox Hole an old name
For a gay bars as names goes
I looked through the window
Within there was a mannequin
A diva mannequin without her clothes
Mannequins have no pubic hairs
Or dicks to bugle out there.
They look unnatural in their clothes.
I’m sure the ancient Greeks if they had
Would not have left out the most esencial parts
Of the human’s body and I do not mean the hands.

When approaching a strange man

When approaching a strange man
I steal a look at his crotch
And when I pass him I look back
To see the make of his butt
I have become a master on packages
On the prick fit snug as a bug.
White men’s butts are squared
White women butt’s slop down
From the back and cap.
Black women and men butt’s
Rise out like twin half moons

When do I use the word

When do I use the word DICK?
When do I use the word PRICK?
When do I use the word PENIS
Penis is more genteel it doesn’t’
Have the hard edge of CK
He is a DICKHEAD
He needs to stop being a PRICK.

My hands are old

My hands are old
My hands are old
Older then they use to be
What is my name?
They call me old hands Dave.
My hands are old
They are not the same
I’m an old hand
At the poetry game.
What’s my name?
They call me old hand Dave.
These old hands caress tenderly
And pen the poem that you need.
Hands are heath thing
They are the tips of who we be
Hands playing at
Homosexuality
Old hands odd at
Doing wrong
Odd hands playing a song

My stud turns tricks just to me

My stud turns tricks just to me
He shed his clothes just for me
He blow lake a fisherman at sea
Just for me
He offer me his trident and pearls
Just for me
He offer his sumptuous balls
Just for me
He explode like a volcano
And love like a beast
Just for me
His wild impulses are supreme
Just for me
And he gently bite my nipple with a laugh
Just for me
I come on his belly and he rubs it into his skin
Just for me
I am privileged to stroke his snake
For it seduces me.

It takes courage

It takes courage to be gay in Americus
Be you courageous in your love
It takes fortitude to be gay in Americus
Be you formidable in your love
It takes boldness to be gay in Americus
Be you bodacious in your love.

From the primordial fires

From the primordial fires
Was gay love born to blaze fierce
It is a treasure of the race of man
But in Americus it seek liberty
As it goes roaring to be heard
Into every ear.
It is permanent and without fear
That God Himself put us here.
I am one in the kingdom of its love
And I fight the climate of hatred
A battle that must be waged
To defuse deceitfulness
Same as the racist gave.
Let us bond together
That our younger brothers
And sisters may be save
And proudly call themselves gay.
The word itself is sweet on the tongue
And no less the knowing ones
Pursuing their God given love.
Blaze for me you men that comes
That secretly falls to sleep in another’s arm
Stir up your manhood you prowlers of the bars
Let your love heal the scars
Of our brothers who was damaged
Because they was bold to love the men
As only as a man can.
Defend the fire that burns within.
Defend you love of men.
Take to arms the righteous cause
Let not silent hold your tongues
Let not even Gods muzzle you
But be your speech a futile drum
That keeps the beat for those to come.
I fed you with this poem
Fed the fierce love within you born
I burn with the force of a storm
And I am not the only one.
Drum you triumphant drum
Till the righteous battle is won.

Henceforth shall you know

Henceforth shall you know
The truth of spasmodic youth
Regal in their day light play
Of the way that to their passion
They are true and not stranded
As was you and I in our 1970s youth
Youth be bold in their venture forth
As it concerns love and sexual matters
They stick to the course
Of whom they do adore
And this is proof that
Youth be brave make
To change the old ways
And this is a good thing.

What is read here

What is read here
What is said
Is that I love the man.
Turn in the air
Let it not fall on deft ears.
I have splattered my cum
Beneath the branches
Waiting the light to come
I have hunted in the night
And the sluice gate of my
One eye prick flush with blood
Stood erect under the flowering of the sun.
What is said is triumphant
Of the shores of the seas within
I have permitted myself
To chase the love of men.

I am glory

I am glory
I burnt by the sun
I am one who comes
When the sexual
Act is done.
I am glory
I am the nameless one
Bold enough to love the boy
And teach him the sexual art.
I am the business end
Of the flesh that won
I cry out in the night
When the sexual act is done.
I come and I come
But I birth no sons
Still the glory I
Yes I the one
Do not disdain my skin
Or the juices that I give
But with mercy feel
The sexual song I give
I am mercy
I am the one
Holy of holy
Burnt by the light of the sun
I am not God
No I am not that strong
But holy is my sexual song

Consider you this

Consider you this
Your chastisers
Would enslave you
With their laws
Of what love is godly
Of all the loves that
Falls upon the
Soul of a man.
Your tormentors
Will enslave you
To do as they say
While your soul
Cries out for freedom
Do not abandon your heart.
Do not burden your sex
For fortune guilds
He who follow
His soul into battle.
Hasten you to the cause
Of men who love men
And worry not
Those poor in understanding
That God be so bold
As to make us who we are
At our sexual core.
Embrace your love
Less you be slain by despair.
Be you bold in your cause
And freely love the man.

After the Prophet

After the Prophet


An old gay man came to me
And I could see that
He walked with wisdom
So I asked of him
Speak to me of boys
And he said
The man you call a boy
Is only a boy by your age
For we measure all things
By the weight of who we are
And what in the years we have learned
And you now advanced in years
See the young ones as boys
But do not pine for them
Just because they are young
For a man your age
Still can and will capture your heart.

Then speak to me of old men
He said
Live within the flesh in which you were given
And be a man of your time
Know that age has its seasons
Let love of wisdom spring from your heart
And adore the summer of your love
Shed yourself of your disappointments
As the fall trees shed its leaves
To rebirth them in the spring.
If you have reached your winter years
Find it not cold and gray
But take it with a kind of grace
That the snow makes of the land
Be you proud to be an old gay man.

I remember well when I did hide

I remember well when I did hide
My love of men that would not be denied
In secret places I would spy
Out the ones whom with me did hide
And we made love in the shadows of trees
O those was days now long gone
Of secret looks and secret touch
Of men who secretly liked to fuck
Then I looked younger then my age
And this was a saving grace
For men took this man to be a boy
And I was much in demand
And I played on it whenever I could.
Age has nearly caught up with me
Still some wonder why one so young
Have a gray beard for I no longer
Shave it away that all can see
The true age of me and I tell
Them up front who I am
A 56 year old man.

I once had a man

I once had a man
Who was lovely and sweet
And he came to meet me
When we were in the army.
He fell for me before I knew
That I as he was gay too.
We were each other’s first man
Before us the women we did woo.
In the army some women and men
Are more then friends.
We kept our love a secret
Until our army’s days was done
Then we openly enjoyed our love
In the light of the sun.
For poetry to Naropa in Boulder I did run
And after some time he came in search of me.
We loved for 11 years until we out grew
For poetry came between us.
He was making big money with antiques
And he wanted me to quite poetry
And take a job that brought in money
But poetry was my love
And it wished not to share its time
Which left me without a dine
So he went his way and I mine
But my love for him has endured throughout time.

Unbolt the door

Unbolt the door
Of concealing your love
Let the Gods of earth
And high heaven
Witness the joy you bring
I the poet am your protector
Let me see the loosing
Of your clothes
Open the storehouse of your heart
Where the flame is burning bright
Rise from the shell of your egg
And come forth into the light
I speak of you who love the man
As only a man’s man can
Come forth for your victory is assured
By one who knows
That our love is pure,
Godly and sure to bring
The heavenly grace
That becomes the love we make.

Purified and washed

Purified and washed
I suck his cock
And behold I lick the rim
And heaven knows
The joy I’m willing to give.
Justifiable is his royal heart
From me none can tear apart
The presence that he gives
Caught in the moment
Of what we both feel
The very truth that weighted
Our heart, the witness
To love the measure
Of our joining as
One blessed from above
Our love shall be found righteous
When weighted in the holy balance.

I open my mouth

I open my mouth
With an urgency
That is seen by you
Willing to blow
And the righteous angles sing
For they know
To my mouth what you bring.
I perform the deed
With such a grace
That the God themselves agree
That there is no greater love
Coming forth from man
Then man to man.

O substance of the man

O substance of the man
O song of sexual joy
Protect me from behind
The shrine where we
Make our love.
I am gratified
By your decree
That you engendered
The love of me
Our love is green
But full grown
Against the fire
That would judge
Us wrongly
We have the love of eternity
We are the eldest in the game
We triumph above all others
In our heavenly dignity.
I receive your cock
With its ring that lead
Me to joyous things.
Our love was born
Of the sexual art of earth
Where we have spilled our seeds.
My heart is coming into being
When you do not resist me.
Our body within the body love
Strengthen who we are
And we advance to the
Happiness of place
That is our twin hearts
Our love endures
The hatred that they throw
For our love is an offering
To the Gods that knows
That heavenly is the blow
And dark limbs entwined
When there is no need for speech
This love will not be denied.

There was a question

There was a question
That he hastily wanted to ask me
Kept on the tip of his prick
But that one eye helmet
Came to quick.

I left my fingerprints

I left my fingerprints
On his skin and my
Scent on his tongue.
I tight rope walk
Between the moon and the sun.
Skyscrapers are growing from my arms
And the putrid jailer of the morn
Negate he who has the absurdity
Of he who is to come.
I walked in triumph before I was born
And said to myself that I am the one
To teach man how to come when he has won
The love of the holy one.
I have birthed a thousand mashes
And through up all that is swamp.
I am the angle of the cum that virtue spilled
When the first God of the storeroom of the sun
Birth the seeds which life first swum from
When water was nearly all that there was.
I raised my drink that earth once drunk
The generosities of all your fun
That no one goes and no one comes
To embrace the greatness of a God born
From the mouth of the fraterual earth.
I am the calamities of your embrace.
I am the prism of wandering light.
I am the miseries clawing at the essence
Of a thirsty man marooned at sea
And I am the man who for a man weeps
In the sensualness of his sleep.
Relentlessly I invent myself nightly
From the bamboo’s comprehensible likeness.
My sons are the men that love the men
And I have birth then all to feel
The significance knowledge that by degree reveals
The veritable night that to sleepers give
The blossom of their misplaced fears
You can recognize me by the mathematical
Shots that splatter the moon and the geological
Undertow that will never jump the broom.

On his skin and my
Scent on his tongue.
I tight rope walk
Between the moon and the sun.
Skyscrapers are growing from my arms
And the putrid jailer of the morn
Negate he who has the absurdity
Of he who is to come.
I walked in triumph before I was born
And said to myself that I am the one
To teach man how to come when he has won
The love of the holy one.
I have birthed a thousand mashes
And through up all that is swamp.
I am the angle of the cum that virtue spilled
When the first God of the storeroom of the sun
Birth the seeds which life first swum from
When water was nearly all that there was.
I raised my drink that earth once drunk
The generosities of all your fun
That no one goes and no one comes
To embrace the greatness of a God born
From the mouth of the fraterual earth.
I am the calamities of your embrace.
I am the prism of wandering light.
I am the miseries clawing at the essence
Of a thirsty man marooned at sea
And I am the man who for a man weeps
In the sensualness of his sleep.
Relentlessly I invent myself nightly
From the bamboo’s comprehensible likeness.
My sons are the men that love the men
And I have birth then all to feel
The significance knowledge that by degree reveals
The veritable night that to sleepers give
The blossom of their misplaced fears
You can recognize me by the mathematical
Shots that splatter the moon and the geological
Undertow that will never jump the broom.

Ripening men

Ripening men
Gleam my darken skin
And my member swells in the night
My screams congeal
And splendor of silent
For the white man
Loved in the wee hour
Sings with ample voice
The saltpeter wind
Smuggled from laughter.
He is my persistent treasure,
He is my wealthy love
A shinning penis head
Flushed red with blood,
The convulsion of my throat,
The erection of my tongue
Bust open when I come
Unleash my flaming sons
That will not be born.

Do not over rate me

Do not over rate me
By my poems though
They were born
By my brain through my hands
Once the deed is done
On their own they must stand.
Its true of me that I birth no sons
But I have as many children
As I have poems
And I love them dearly
I love them all
But move on to new ones
That will come
This is just the latest one to fall
From my brain when passion calls
From me with my muse
Who I adore
She helps me pen what I bore
She calls to me from my sleep
In the hour the sleepers keep
To jot down a line or two
And when I wake I follow through
Some say that they lack all grace
For the words I use are crude
But I am only doing what I do
With common language to woo you
And now I hope you understand
The make and model of this man
That I truly am.

Where goes I when the night is moist

Where goes I when the night is moist
Like the succulent peach ready to fall from the tree?
Where goes I when there are men to meet
Sweet men ready to be pluck by me
Men moist and willing to give me a taste?
Where goes I when the prophet of my songs
Longs to smear cum full grown
In the domain of all my wrongs?
Where goes I when the sleepless sexual urgency
Is taken over by a hunk with
Blue eyes and coco color hair
Ask me to spill out a rhyme
About the size of his prick?
Where goes I when the sexual beast
Lust for the first drip as sweet
As the nectar of the Gods is swallowed
Pass the tongue that keeps to the rhythm
Of in and out and pumb and pumb?
And even science is pointless
When I am pieced again and again?
Where goes I when men squeeze into tight
Warm places of an opening in the skin like the mouth,
The ass, the ears?
Where goes I when the guardian of the unknown
Is pecking with tongue that bring me such joy
As to call the man a boy of unimaginable innocent?
Where goes I when I am arrested in the forest
Full of bombs that will explode its cargo
Of sperms that will be my sons but die
On a white towel of forgiveness?

I am made of skin and bones

I am made of skin and bones
Skin of the wreckage concentrated
Love of men.
Skin under the skin of the silent sun
Skin appease the skin of escaped slave’s
Deskin and skin stuffed with strew
Marginal skin dark as a dout.
Children’s skin in the entanglement
Of their fancy fancies
Women skin dark and lovely
She mount the negro of the full
Silvery moon and pull back the skin
Of buirthing soon the pollen of the rain.
Man’s skin strike the skin of war
And wound the skin of migration
Within the skin of the sky.
Wild skin blooming the needle
Tracks that is high on the skin of regrets.
I caress the skin of all gay men
When the wind forever wild kiss their asses
Turned to face the night domination of the moon.
The juices of skin waiting to be taken
By the sexual foreskin of his snake.

Baby boy

Baby boy before you lies
Ten thousand days or more
Of joy and pain that is life.
Shall the man come to call your name
I hope that you are strong enough
To answer the call to sex him right and hide not in the night.
I shall do my best to pave the way
That you may walk with such a grace
That all mankind can see
That you without shame
Shall to fore fill your secret needs
As true to nature that made you.
Be you bold as to teach the child
That shall follow behind
And teach that healthy sex is divine
And take what little of my rhymes
You find true to your kind
That it may strengthen you
To do no less then I do
When I woo the man after
My own heart, joind together.
Let us not part. I am yours
And you are mine by nature born to be divine.

My poem belie the fact that I am along

My poem belie the fact that I am along
But I have taken to heart our community as my own
And freely sings my love of men in my songs
I wish for you only the best
In matters of love and matters of sex.
This body of mine is showing its age.
Gone are the tight muscles of my younger days.
Gray is my hair and my sight grows dim.
Slow is my strive and slower still
Is my desire to sex the man.
I am half way through my life
This is true but still I have love for you.
It’s not so much that my poems lie
For I am true to what I spy
Whether in bars or on the streets
My pen is held by honesty.
Do not think me sad of who I am
For in my life there is much joy
To glanced upon a beautiful boy
To know the grace and beauty of older men.
I will by force of will carry on
With poems of sex and poems of love.

I am looking for a man

I am looking for a man
Are you the one who will woo me?
Do by my poems you find me true?
I am just south of a fair face
But I have the grace that old age teaches
To love all men regardless of their station
Or make of muscles, fat or thin
My heart is yours to win.

In the contact of my skin I am along

In the contact of my skin I am along
But to myself of this I consent
Secured in the fact that someday
A man will come to sweep me away
As sure as the wind’s pause bust upon
Cities and open fields and makes
The weeds and wheat to tremble
With joy, so true a man will fall into my arms.
Some man yet unknown but beautiful and bold
Wise enough as not to over rate me by my poems.
The blood of my memories tells me that this is true.
Is it this man or that or is it you
Who can love the man I am, sweet as the fruit
Still hanging on the tree that life of living is?

As a man’s man

As a man’s man I have
Taken my gestures into the streets.
I have been obscene in the
Most profound way.
I have exhausted the missionaries
Position along with the bear back hump
But I never was perverse, no it is not me.
I have not defied the one true God
But to my human’s ways I have been true.
I have come to grip with who I am
And learned to freely love the man who
Do not care for the tight flesh of youth.
I have loved him as if he was all of mankind.
I have thrown a kiss to the sun
And took the time to bless the moon
And I do not fear what is to come
I am my father’s son although he thought it not so
He hit it and ran leaving me to be raised
By my mother’s hands
I have been a man on the run
And thief of hearts of lovely boys.
I have taught the young the sexual art
And committed no offense against the night.
With confidence I was not born
It has taken years to fit within my skin
And I have not misled by my voice.
In the wee hour I have been hated
For the dark color of my skin
And no other reason given why
My dark beauty should be so despised
For I have made my stand by the pen.
I have felt the whip that lashes a thousand years.
I have electrified the body of he who I hold dear
And counted and named all of my tears.
From prairies to mountain I have roamed
In search of the flower grown in the secret
Places that no one own.
I have been strong against the impulse
To do wrong to man and beast.
In matters of love and the sexual art.
I have denied such joy to no one.
I have loved boys half my age
And men five my senor and with
Equal vigor have I stuff
My tongue and caressed the loin cloth
And sucked the nipples with a passion seldom felt.
I have praised the twin solace with equal grace
And has not mumbled my words in the streets.
My sex has blazed in the dark park
Where I laid on the grass and gave myself over
To passion but those times was only games played.
I have grown to be a stately man in my age

My soul goes naked through the streets

My soul goes naked through the streets
Where there’s dressed up boys to meet
With enthusiasm they take the fallen hand
Of sea side born blazon men who will and can
Understand the way that we swing.
My flesh is the dullest part
As I am not handsome save my heart
But my soul is the most beautiful part
So much so then the common man
But souls are hard to see
And so I am counted lest when it comes to choosing
A man to woo, you need look deep and not through.
Look beyond the flesh form of me
And see that I offer much to please.

This poem is for you

This poem is for you
Man dressed in a dress
Man who rue his thin lips
Man of the womanly form
Man who father has disown
Man who sex the whole night long.

Last night I dreamt of a man

Last night I dreamt of a man
That I have seen before in my dreams
But I never get to meet him.
He has brown hair and gray eyes,
A sender form and a pleasing smile.
I wonder why he’s always there
Just out of hands reach at bars
But in this dream he was at the park
Where common men was playing baseball.
I want to know this man
Who tease me with his look.
He is just shy of handsome.
He is a creature of my dreams
And seeing his so often, what does it means?
I think that his name is Paul Paris.
He is always moving away from me.
I have come to recognize his form
And pick his out in a crowd.
I like the look of his smile
And how he carry himself.
The mind will tease you with many things
The mind creates in its dreams
Thing that we wish to hold
Such is this beauty boy bold.

Men on t v ware lip stick

Men on t v ware lip stick
But when I do it they call me queer
Men in church ware long black dresses
But when I ware one they call me queer
Men on the football field slap each other
On the buttocks
But when I do it they call me queer.

With notebook in my lap

With notebook in my lap
I sat outside and write
The smoke from my cigarettes
Curve between my fingers
The blue sky is full of light
What poem will come to my mind?
What subject do I hold dear?
The love of a man which I have none
At this station in my life
Still poetry takes to flight
I lean back in my metal chair
To think and take a puff
Wishing that it was mary james
Birds hidden somewhere sings
The humming of an air conditioner
Traffic noise from a main street near
Silent clouds in the distant
Of a most beautiful blueness
The garden is going to seeds
As it is the fall time of year
Last night I had a most pleasant dream
Inside is an open beer.

He heard me fleeing

He heard me fleeing
But he didn’t care
Because it is the
Darkest skin that I ware
My skin is armor
Meant to defined
The slings and arrows
The bullets and bombs
That tears the flesh
Of lighter men.

I am a poet who knows many things

I am a poet who knows many things
Most is how to make my poetry sing
Of love’s labor and love lost
And truly what male love is all about
Some thinks that I am to raw
When I talk about being fucked and fucking
But there is no better way to say it
Then to be direct of how I sweat
When deep within the mounding
Bare back as a bull I pull back the skin
Yes pull back the fore skin and slip in
But most I do is to please the men
So to the act I am true
To capture the sexual act of you.

The fall weather was full of wind

The fall weather was full of wind
And the gray sky full of clouds
A small rain was falling
And I was on the prowl.
I approached a man and gave a look
That said will you be my lover
Just for the night
And he gave it back with a smile.

I hold no secrets

I hold no secrets
This is true
I freely tell the world
That I love you
Your sweat of love
Is sweet as dew
That is secreted from within you
You said that you will be my man true
I trust your sex more the then whole of you
For youth is easily to change its mind
When some other lover it finds fair
So do not promise this to me
But seek out others you are free
Just remember to ware a latex cover
When some other lover you find lovely
I am not a jealous man
And freely do I understand
That there are so many willing men
Willing to feel your strong hands
Upon their waist. And let you take
Their pale flower in the hour
That they find dear.

His lips told an urgent tale

His lips told an urgent tale
Of whom he kissed when
Sexual joy swelled
Within his body strong
All through the night they
Carried on till day light came
And broke their love song
And each his way went on
With the sense of love still strong.

It is no queerness to be queer

It is no queerness to be queer
To find the man ever dear
To hold his hand and his body at night
To yourself full of what is right
Nature made all lovers to love
And blessings do not fall from above
But within is love born
And within this love that nature made right
That our eyes should be filled of his sight
Whether by day seen or glanced at night
So feel not ashamed to take his hand
To take body of boy or men
And find within, within the joy
Of lying beside the man or boy.

O, my men, O, my boys

O, my men, O, my boys
Each to each know the joy
Of tender heart and tender hands
And the joy of nude bodies together
I woo you all with all I am
Woo them all by my pen
My tongue can be raw I hold not my tongue
To speak of the bare back that I have won
When I woo the boy, woo the man
With words to make them come.

I shall tell you true there is a man

I shall tell you true there is a man
Who own a silken dress of purple hue
And he doll himself up at night
And only the knowing knew.
I saw him once on the stage
Lip syncing with all his heart
And a ten dollar I gave
And glad to let it part.

Eros was such a man

Eros was such a man
And Ganymede too
They were not afraid
To do as they do
Both found of the state
And form of men
Beauty of fair face
And pleasing skin
They let their passion rule
To do no less
Let me and you
Follow our passion
To ourselves being true.

Stand by me I stand by you

Stand by me I stand by you
And pity the fool who can not be true
True in matters of love and sex
Because they thinks the priest’s attacks
Condemn them to a hell where Moloch and Mulciber are at
But we know better that self same God
That need not forgive to spare the rod
For It love us, yes love us all
No condemnation It recall
That man in love shall not fall
But rise to the measure when true love calls.

The Make Ready

He looked into
The mirror glass
And found a
Pleasing sight there
Hair slicked back
Clothes new
Italian leather shoes
The make ready
For the night was done
He smiled at himself
To see such grace
Found in the face
Of only a few
He danced a little
But his feet did not move
He put a condom
In his wallet
And patted his buttock
To see secured.

My body tremble

My body tremble
At the touch
My ass hole
Sweat to be fucked
Until I nearly faint
Drink my cum
It is nectar
Of the Gods
The eagle one
Who stole
Away the boy
A proud man
He hunts
The back alleys
And with some luck
He finds his pray
To together
The long night lay.

I am a man

I am a man of
Many virtues
And some of me
Is vice
Of my vices
I shall speak
I smoke cigarettes
And I drink
Of my virtues
I smoke Mary James
And I love the men
Many others of both
Can claim the same
My virtues take
The time to rule
My life
And my vice
Some say
Is not right
But many are guilty
Of both virtues an vise
Only saints get through
Without the two
And they have no life
Of the flesh to woo.

Poems are not enough

Poems are not enough
To keep his heart pure
Yet as a poor poet
It is all that I have to give.

What have I to offer him?

What have I to offer him?
Only new poems that praise
His beauty and all
My longing kept in my heart
His love, my poems
A barter, my love
His willingness
To fuck me as if
I was still young.

He asked me to dance

He asked me to dance
And we did
He held me close
As if there was some fear
That he wished me to dispel.
I felt the heat of his body
Rise up from his
Open collar.

I got over on the man

I got over on the man
While he was under me
How you say is this so?
It is as poets goes
He understood
My getting over
And begged me to sweat
In the deed, he said
Put your back into it
And I did
With all my
Tender strength
That was meant
To please him.

When sadness comes

When sadness comes
To wrap me in its arms
I call his name
Which is sweet
On my tongue
I call and he comes
To unlock me from
My misery and
Replace with his
Embrace, but now
He is gone away
So sadness stay
Your arms at
Arms length
For I must
Go it along
And along the way
Shall I compose
A song of love
Lost as love goes.

His complexion was smooth

His complexion was smooth
His legs soft
His lap ready at the mark
Charming his demeanor
Shyness his spirit of splendor.

He was small in body

He was small in body
But giant in crotch
He had a long member
And I took it to mouth
All the measure of his size
Teased to move to sing this song.
Lover boy, O my lover boy
You bring me such joy
As to let me play with your
Sexual toy.

We do not owe

We do not owe
The thighs of a boy
The mouth of a woman’s womb.
Sweet companion I implore
That gayness is a holy love.

They say

They say we wastes
The labor of creation
In the lap of a male
But only nature
Can tell that we are
True to our love
Are blessed
For God loves lovers.

I am not one who seek

I am not one who seek
To be rich unless it is with love.
I am not one who seek to
Believe in God who lives above
So far away that he can not measure our love.
Men who report to have the ear of God
Lies to themselves when they disdain
This most holy love that call out name.

Gone away from me

Gone away from me
These few days seen
Like months in their stay.
You say that I must be strong
With strength of heart
For you will not be long,
But this precious love
Was not meant to a part.
I do not have the strength of a stone
For I am flesh and bones
So I pain to wait your turn.
For the days goes on ceaselessly.
It is as if I have lost a part of me.
I miss your pleasant delight
And weep throughout the night
I am miserable in my toss and turn
Upon the bed that is cold
Without your body heat to warm me.
Hurry back soon my love
I wait by the door and can
Take your absent no more.

He loved the boy

He loved the boy
Who loved the woman
Who loved me
We tangle in this
Web of the three.
I have the answer
He can have the boy
For three nights
Then to the woman
Shell the boy betroled
Then the woman shall
Have me for three days
We without our clothes.

It has been said

It has been said
That our love is
A perverse custom
That the wildness
Of the beast will flee
Our passion,
That no male animal
Submits to another
And that there by are we
Corrupting the nature of love,
That the destruction of Sodom
Is proof that God disdain
But the poets has another
Song to sing
Perverse is the custom
Of the church that can not discover
That God has made us lovers
And we all in out flesh
Are beasts as all others
But thought to be risen to a higher order.
Still we are all animals.
We think ourselves
More grander then
The common beast
That roams on all fours.
Two legs do not make
One holy or fit to dictate
The holy order.
To disdain our love
You become a guilty man
Even with the white color
And in heaven shall your sins
Be reviled for the sinfulness
That it is for only God
Can condemn and It condone
The love of men as holy as the thought
Common love of the boy for the girl.
Hear the poets when they say
That the love that calls it name gay
Is as holy as the love of mother
For her child
So be you bold in your love
For a blessing has be bestowed
Upon you to love as you do
Under the sun
Be you brave to take on all that comes
To descry that they are the one
Who can say that they know the way.

I thirst for love

I thirst for love
And keep vigil
That it may come
And I shall drink a little
Before my life is done.

O, the fair flower

O, the fair flower
Of beautiful boys
The loveliness found
In their faces.
By Cupid’s arrow
Are we struck
To adore them
And no others
Wish is made.
My new Favorite
Which is the hunter
And wish is hunted upon?
The chase is on
Through bars and parks
And super mart
They are seen in their
Tight jeans and muscle shirts
Wore to entice the common man
Such as myself.

Beauty and honesty

Beauty and honesty
Are the cash
That you spend when
Come around other men
Who wish to buy your love.
Dark hair and fair grace
Your face, soft-spoken
And gentle as to make
The poet praise
That there is no imperfection in you.
Nature could not decide
As to make you girl or boy
So it pleased her to give
The the best of each.

Profit me this

Profit me this
Where speech escapes me
Because you are so lovely
That I would inspect and
Implore, I would prostrate
Before your beauty that catches me up.
I am speechless before your beauty
So I admit that you are loved by many
And by the many who do adore
To look upon your beauty
And many wishes to call you their
But you love no one as much
As you love yourself.
So this game I will play
To hide my love, yes let it stay
Away from your sight till that day
That you find in me one who
You can not sway by your beauty
And so you chase the one who
On the surface seem to be immune
To your spell.
And the chase is on
But I stay aloof, just out of reach
And you pursued me with a touch
Of your lips, but I hold firm
And it is all that I can do not to give in.

Boys do not wound me

Boys do not wound me
By keeping your love at bay
Come stay the night in my room
For someday God willing you will be as old as me
And want something sweet
On your tongue, so come into my arms
If only for a night of sexual fun.

September 2009

Septemble 2009
(for Cavafy)

Sometimes the closer you get to love
You want to turn and run in fear
Because love cause you can loose control
Of whom you are, to make yourself over
To fit the loved object.

The secret tender voice

The secret tender voice
That you whisper fair
With all the care of men in love
The tenderness of your hands
That over rule my stand
That I will not sex younger men
The rain beats against the window pane
Its refrain makes me think of jazz
The jazz of your body sweating against mine
Be as tender to me as a rhyme
On the lips of a great poet of our time.

I love your tenderness

I love your tenderness
It is smooth on my tongue
I breathe it into my lung
We are well hung as sizes goes
Fit to blow, fit to be blown.

In my youth

In my youth
I was a kept man
Kept in a pen
With others my age
When I turned 30
He thought my beauty pass
And set me out to pasture
To fend for myself
But I had grown accustom
To the finer thing
Paid for by older men

The Brought Boy

Money can buy the love of boys
It can buy silk suits to clothe him
It can buy silk ties and
Italian leather shoes
You are dressed head to toes
With your brought love
I am to poor to buy you
Too much of a poor poet
To afford expense things
Like a watch and diamond ring
My food is spare
While he sat a buffet before you
He offers you all that your heart desire
And so you sell yourself
When it is me that you really love.
I love you to much to blame you
I wish you only the best
Get while the getting is good
And while your young beauty
Is still last
To him you are a trophy
To show around town
The leach he has you on is golden
But leach none-the-less
When you have grown your beard
He will put you down
I will wait until we are old
Then only I will want you.

Yes this is true

I suck me some penises
Yes this is true
Penis-penis-penis-penis
Enough for me and you.

Gay Love Sent from Above

I unlock my jaws
To speak of gay love.
The Gods has open my mouth
The same mouth used
To suck the nipples
Of the bosom of the one I adore.
He has gotten possession
Of my two eyes.
The face of the man
Illumine our ways.
My lips, my mouth is open to praise
The love that dare to call it name
In the streets of heaven and on earth.
We were born to taste his sweat.
The order of his body leads us to the
Urgent of the Gods.
May all the shining beings adore him.
We clothe ourselves with gay love.
The Gods that created all things
Celestial and terrestrial
The God cast themselves
At the feet of our love.
O God of the east,
O God of the west,
O God of the north,
O God of the south.
The four order of the Gods
Embrace us to love as you
Would have us do in being true
To ourselves.
As poet my mouth is pure
So too my tongue to speak
Of our love that is adored.
Let none defile this love God given
Less they be cast out.
You who woo the man/woman
After your own heart
Know that you are not a part
Of the great love of our age.
This love called gay brings gaiety to us
And when our love is made
The four Gods of the heaven
Rejoice and whisper our name
On their holy lips.
Let none set us apart
From the love of our hearts.
Let none seek to wound us,
Let none call a sin what is God given.
Let us be strong.
Let the poets sing our song of love
Let the angels who look after us
Report that we are bold in our want.s
I lay my head on the lap of my beloved
And finds comfort there.
I stay the night beside him and the warmth
Between his legs pleases me to no end.
He is the love of my life and our love
By the four Gods of the heaven is true and right.

East of praising you

East of praising you
You are my love
They say that we are
The creator of our love
That it is not God given
And born from our birth
But our love follow our soul
And we love with an expansion of heart
It is decreed by the great God
That rules all Gods
Our love travel thousands of years
In its duration of its life
It is engendered by that lofty Lady Nature
She has born us to our love
In her name do we stretch out our hands
She is mighty and exceedingly gracious
In her granting that our love shall triumph.

I dropped down to my keens

I dropped down to my keens
He said; do me like you do other men
I said, say please
He agreed and we made the love of men
Caught by passion that seem
To burn within us together
Our love has stood the weather that
Weather away the love of other men
If only because we know
That storm will blow
But we must carry on
Wrapped in each other’s arms
Under the cover of our love.

Many men I have seen

Many men I have seen
But only a few have I loved
And fewer still have loved me
In my youth I grazed
The prick with my teeth
But I have learned better
To keep my throat open
To take it in smoother
The art of sucking a dick
Is easily learned with practice
Easy to master the rhythm
Sucking comes natural
Babies do it in the womb
But only a few will do it seem
As they becomes a new man.

My man likes to ride

My man likes to ride
Inward he likes to slide
My man thinks that I am a buck
That need to be tame
My man likes to fuck
My man like my lips
Warm around his dick
My man has the hands
Of an experience man
My man hips are strong
He keeps the rhythm
While on my throne
My man carry on
All night long.

Some men’s pricks

Some men’s pricks
Are bent in a curve
Some still have their
Foreskin
With sensitive nerve
I am uncut and
I love it this way
Some men’s prick helmet
Throb and glow red
With pre cum that
Drip and runs
Down the shaft
Some men’s prick
Are darker
Then their body skin
Some men use their
Prick as a weapon
They stab and stab again
Some men’s prick
Get into the rhythm
Some men’s prick
Never come while
Others just can’t get enough
Of that tight ass
Fucky stuff.

I loosened his belt

I loosened his belt
He smiled at what
Was coming next.

Penis inside

Penis inside
Cause my body heat
To rise
I sweat
To cool off.

I was caught in your mystery

I was caught in your mystery;
Which is the musk of your underarm.
I was well on my way of falling for you
When he happened by and stole away
My gray hairs with the grayness of his eyes.

I didn’t love him more

I didn’t love him more
Then I loved the rain
I didn’t love him more
Then I loved the wind
That blows my love toward him.
I didn’t love him the way
That love can be made
Of one thing, water of my dreams
I didn’t love him more
Then I love the sun
That lit our love
I didn’t love him more

Square body

Square body
Glassy eyes
I could tell
That he was high
Names shared
Between us
Hello against
Our good-bys
Nothing venture
Nothing gained
St. Louis night
Full of a
Small rain
What do you
Like to do
Question on
My mind
Male beauty
Can be divine
Like the love
Of men who
Will not decline
To share my arms
Undisturbed
Bed waiting
To be stained
Intertwining
Of limbs
No limit of time
Tongue writes
His name
On my lips
Behind us
A hard day’s work
Before us
A hard night
Of loving.

In the knowing

Penetrating
Penis
Prepare for
The warm
Hole that holds.
Tongue
Penetrating also.
Carnal knowledge
Results
In the knowing
Radiance
Of soul.
Penetrating
Mind
Divine
Common love
Finds
Away to be born
No harm
The gay love
Of boys
Looking to the men
Busting
The boundary of
A nut.
Suck
The penetrating
Love.

The water of the rain

The water of the rain
Has been prepared
For the blessing
By the man who
Depends on the
Freckle-face boy
Who will woodpecker
The secret places
That is moist
And warm
That redheaded boy
The true believer
Of sexual joy
He has shed
His boyhood
Four years ago
And now in the arm
Of the blessed one
He bare the scars
Of pass love
That caught his eyes
When he was younger
And illegal to the bars
But now he is grown
And ready for the blessing
That man gives when
They mount the night.

I keep my baby promises alive

I keep my baby promises alive
Even when the sky threaten to rain
And the winds sing a song as old
As nature of many Gods within one
The God of wind, God of the sun
The God of trees, God of rivers
The God of seas, God of remembrance
When I was to young to promise
Myself anything I was unaware
Of eternity and what it means
But then I was a baby
One with nature not knowing
That she would come to be my God
I didn’t know myself when
I was young, a baby in the crib
I cried for attention and mother came
That trick doesn’t work today
When I cry she never ask why
But says that I am too old to cry.

Thrush

Men can thrush
The sea thrush
The bee thrush
Toward the blossom
All things are threshing
Within me now as then
When we were lovers
With a love that was
Thrush upon us.

Suck my nuts

Suck my nuts
For good luck
Bare back me
With a fuck
Till I have
Had enough
Suck my toes
To know
Lick my ass
To be glad
Kiss my dick
To lick
Do all this
And you will
Be blessed
By the sexual God
With his hard rod
Blow me over
With a kiss
Let me in return lick
The crack of your glory hole
Let us in sex be bold.

I say to you

I say to you
Bite my nuts as
Something new.

The black man darker

The black man darker
Then the blackberry
Darker then coal
Darker then the storm that blows
I solute you for the darkness
Of your skin, you have my love to win
The white man pinker
Then the rose
I solute you for the pinkness
Of your skin, you have my love to win.
The brown me browner
Then the oak
Browner the seed of the avocado
I solute you for the brownness
Of your skin, you have my love to win.
The yellow man yellowier
Then the corn
Yellowier then the sunflower
I solute you for the yellowness
Of your skin, you have my love to win.
The red man redder
Then the Mahoney
Redder then brick
I solute you for your redness
Of your skin, you have my love to win
Men of the world lay your burden on me
I am strong by the measure of my song.

The man that helps to define me

The man that helps to define me
Is the man that define himself
While we must define ourselves
Part of who we are is the
Measure of our love
Because this country deem it so
And only a few like me go against the flow
We carry our love wherever we go
We are single in our skin
Inside forever along
We are loving men who knows.

I am a man of my time

I am a man of my time
A man’s man seen in the aisle
Of the supermarket
Or on the bus ride
Across town
A man whose hands are strong
And on my lips a love song
To all the men that I see
I am at peace with me
I am a man’s man
Who can understand
The love of men
I call you my brothers in arms
You know who you are
And the places where we gather
Is full of joy, is full of so much joy
As to make me weep
But you see I am a man’s man
So I withhold my tears
Not out of a fear
That my man’s man cover
Will be thrown back
But joy will make you laugh.
There, walking down the alley
A beautiful man buttoned up
Against the cold, I know not
Where he goes but his beauty strikes
Me bold, there,
There everywhere to behold
The square form of men
Well fitted in their clothes
But it is the man that loves men
That I most adore
They are dear to my heart
So much so that I will
Protect them where ever they go
This is the greatest strength
Of a man’s man to protect
The love life of the loved ones
Against the foes
Who in their ignorant
Seems not to know
The very ignorant
That they ware as clothes
Yes I am a man of my times
In my tie to nature am I
Both common and divine
A part of the divinity of being alive.

This love that I proclaim common

This love that I proclaim common
Is in deed divine.
This want of the heart,
That finds joy in the touch of your hands
Will and need not be denied
This wish for the lip of a man
Is the greatest love of our time.
The sexual act upon whish we dine
This grace we find in a man’s face
This caressing of his hips
This bead back ride smooth as
The motion of the ocean tide
Is both common and divine.

I was feeling you today

I was feeling you today
But you have stayed out all night
Why won’t you treat me right?
Why this broken hearted plight?
It was you who wooed me
Yes no other
But you seek to keep our love under cover
Why are you ashamed playing your games
Hiding my love even from your friends
Afraid to be decovered.
Why this broken hearted plight
In my mid life?
There is nothing to do but
Find me some other
Who will hold true to his loving.

Let the haters

Let the haters
Be killed
On the byway
Of life
Let them feel
The woes that
They throw
Toward us
We will not
Ware their clothes
For we are men
Bold in our love
Of the man that glows
With ripe love to give
Let the haters
Fall by the waist side
On the journey that is life
Let them get
As good as they gave
For they have
Dirty souls
Foul minds
And unclean hearts
To them our
Love is outside
Of human sexuality
They know
The crimes that
They commit.

Homage to you

Homage to you
Men of right and truth
Do not listen to them
Who call our love a sin
The flames of desire
That burns up within you
Is no foe of
The true God
For our love
Has triumphant
Through eternity
It is purification
This love we hold
It is appointed
By the God that knows
This God is our protector
And I am your avenger
By my pen
So hold hard
The fight that
We must battle
Against the inroads
Of the destroyer
Of our love
I champion the revolt
That defends our love
There shall come
A reckoning of destruction
When the Gods weight their
Souls in the balance
The wickedness that
They do to us
Will be avenged

Do not

Do not write upon
My coffin any lies
To make me palpable
To the masses
Do not hide my poems
Of manly love
For in life I was sacrificed
Upon the alter of my poetry
I did do my best to bring comfort
To the man that freely love
The man after his own heart
He is my brother in arms
And without his I am alone
So concerning my poems
Of this most divine love
Let it not be hidden from
The youth who feel but do not
Understand that in his love
Is the history of the ages

Let me enter you with a poem.

Let me enter you with a poem.
You open to the path of my love of men.
Let me open your perfect soul
You are the holy one
With the divine flames of your love.
I am your poet and priest
Of the sexual act.
I perform the course
Of your mating dance
And I sing for your heart.
I am the steward
Never set apart
From your divine offering of
The sexual art of the dance.
Take my poem as if they are bread
And beer
Walk with me I wait your coming forth
I wait your glorified soul along with you.
I shall defend you in the trial
Against your love and weight
It in the balance of the Gods
I shall give you
Your pure place on the earth.
My mouth is given over to it
Given to speak to the great sexual God
Nature that birth you from
The womb of your mother
To love the man in the brotherhood
Of her followers.
I am your minister
Against the pool of fire.
I shall quench your desires
Of the heart with a poem.
I am the thick headed scribe
Who swallow up all that you see
And I will not let you be denied
Your place among the lovers.

Come join me

Come join me in the wait
I am waiting on the face of God
I am waiting for you to come

The time for waiting is done
God is a no show
And of you this is so

Come join me in making love
I am loving the face of God
I am loving the face of you to come

The time for loving is done
God is all about the face of love
And of you this is not true

Come join me in sex
I am sexing the face of God
I am sexing you to come

The time for sex is done
God is all about sex
And of you I see you come.

O my love, O my dear

O my love, O my dear
I am here to love you
You are to me the working man
Standing by your machines
Free yourself for a noonday of peace
Please come to me as I am ready
To take you in my arms and let our love
Baste in the light of the sun
O my love, O you men
Who do not pretend
That you love the girl
Come to me when the work day is done
Let our love burns as bright as the sun
O my man, o my love
In you I have won the love born
Of what’s to come
Wrap me in your arms
Place your lips about my hips
I shall suck as I have sucked no one
You are to me as the sweetness of the plum
Take me in your arms and do to me as you will
Lets us come without regards to anyone.

Your love has cleansed me

Your love has cleansed me
Of the interior dirt of
Loneliness
And I go lacking for nothing
In the seasons of days and nights
I am gratified by your touch
And wish no more then
Each touch shall grow
In the garden of our love.

I make a declaration

I make a declaration
That the balance
To weight my love for the man
Stands supported within
And the Lord of the holy crown
Shall not send us down
For the stander of our love
Has been seen to be pure
So says the messenger of God.

His legs put me to mind

His legs put me to mind
Of the trunk of a mulberry tree
His chest puts me to mind
Of the face of a brick building
His lips put me to mind
Of how divine human can be
His hands put me to mind
Of the time that mother mothered me
His eyes put me to mind
Of the blueness of the bold sky
His nose puts me to mind
Of the ski slop I climb
His hips put me to mind
Of sweetness tasted by my lips.

I feed upon the right and truth of my heart

I feed upon the right and truth of my heart
So when I tell you that we shall never part
For you are a hunger to me.
You are the water of my thirsty wants.
You bid me drink from your heart.
You cloth my in your love from the nakedness
To which I was born.
You are my protector against accusations
Of being condemned for the love I harbor.
I am pure of mouth, pure of hands
Twice blessed by the Gods
Once by giving me life
Once by the love that you gives
So here I bare testimony
For all to see and hear
In the present of the Gods
That I love you my dear.

Hail man

Hail man
They who curse our love
Shall fall in the end
I am the provider to the young
I give them poems
And songs of good tiding
From the working of my heart.