Alleys Without Words - Excerpts
Belly Dancing in Istanbul
Remembering her languid body,
saturating warmth, waist deep pounding
in the Yucatan, the tip of Cancun a lifetime
where Gulf and Atlantic seas conjoined,
wild intercourse honoring the full moon
goddess . . .
Familiar sidebar discussions
Foreceful monologues with his self
within his selves
Entrenched beneath affirmative
comforting phrases. . . .
Oak Table at the Tea Shop
The reflection left on my soul, once rich
Was a heartfelf image
Carved gently into and out from embroidered Asian silk
Her perfect sheen and texture, once as
unforgettable . . .
beneath the canopy of tall
In slow motion within the periphery, . . .
The audition atop the intellectual casting couch you selected
screams out the need for
reupholstering. . . .
Blemished gray veins,
Camouflaged backdoor byways
And lacerated visceral shortcuts
Soulful watercolored cave-like
passageways, . . .
Alabaster and Onyx
Gently sculpted alabaster,
his fingers gliding over nuanced
Infinite sensual mosaics
drawn from Aphrodite's garden
within cirrus fields . . .
Reprising shadows of sonorous melodies
Rushing through clear waters'
Endless gauntlets of choice -
Perpetual sounding board
Unharnessing acoustical rhymes and
Cleansing disjointed creek beds of
the past - . . .
Italicized messages beeping soft
Goodbyes. Barely audible echoes
swirl beyond my heart.
Moments later she departed for Genoa
Leaving delicious passages in
Like precisely formed cuneiform. . . .
Nineteen runoffs earmark page corners
in the diary of life along the creek
Seasons camouflaging timeless
within Daphne's embattled heart,
Infinite shorelines shift from lifeless tan
into lush leafy palettes of May, . . .
Simple labyrinths formed by familiar
Traveled as often as shooting stars
flickering in the lonely night sky.
Pathways ascending deep below marbled
thoughts . . .
Endlessly walking atop the concrete river
adjacent to my childhood dreams,
now sits a deserted stucco castle,
strangely empty, filled with
strangely silent, littered with dead
moths . . .