these words

there is such artifice to life
surrounding us, impounding
the precious creativity in us
so that our words begin to feel
foolishly empty, vapid and vain
expressions of mere fetid fallacy

then how is it that, in speaking
to you, I feel my words imbued
with such animate potency,
unencumbered by petty pretence
uninstructed by egregious ego
and its ever enervating charm

each day I rise thinking of you,
and the words that I hopeful offer
ascend happily from my heart,
being so much more than ambitious
constructs dripping from the mouth
of some mealy-minded courtier

rather, my love, are they
the breath of my soul
seeking ever wonderful you
most honestly to adore

Salt Lake City 16 June 2022


when words fail

These words are my life-long labor—
my most finely-tempered tools
expressing me in the only way
I have ever truly known myself
to wittingly and willingly be.

And yet there have been times
when even they have failed me,
leaving uningenious me struggling
to freely convey the necessary ideas
of a most needful moment in time.

But not this. No, not with you.

For there too are times when words
are utterly and unashamedly feeble
bleeding over pages balefully aware
that no care, no leveraging can express
what truly needs to be said. To you.

For when your body lay before me
glorious and glowingly golden,
your breasts rising and falling,
your flesh flowering beneath my touch,
your legs spreading timidly beneath me,

the only words that mattered—
the only language most eagerly I
could derive from any aspect of me
was the devotion keenly conceived
along the warmest form of my tongue,

tracing the length of your nether lips,
teasing the hooded hallowed bud
of your delicious hardening clit
as your anxious breath escaped
in quietly toned gasps of pleasure.

When words fail, my beautiful love,
this is how I express my adoration
for you.

Salt Lake City 30 May 2022

Image by “press 👍 and ⭐” from Pixabay

poetry upon water

your words ripple
effortlessly across
my soul soothing
wounds left too long
unhealed and seething
bloody anguish
glistening until
the next wave rolls in
releasing me from
an angry past
at last, aye, at last
serenity cleansing
my all too eager
profanity preferring
instead to lay my
head upon these sands
and allow your words
to wash over me
once more like
poetry upon water

[gratefully inspired by the humbly brilliant David ben Alexander at ]

Enjoying the sand and waves just down the hill from where I once lived in Turkey (2011).

absent words

why have you abandoned me
my once constant companions
who had teased my keen imagination
frolicking in the lush gardens of my mind

i recall so well the days my thoughts
were awash with exhilarating concepts
eagerly analyzing exotic words
playfully pondering stimulating sounds

when with tantalizing enthusiasm
i swept you all up in virtual arms
like the soft new fallen snow
but like the snow you melted away
to become vague uninspiring memories

and where are you all now
my oh so fickle faithless friends
whose mind do you sweetly inhabit
whose desires now do you stir
urging only others on to greatness

why sits this sluggish mind so agonizingly still
bereft of even a single meager word
worth the speaking, clinging
bit by bit by bit to the meatier
more venerable thoughts of others

i once was a creator, a builder
an artisan of words and ideas
relishing the warmth of my own inventions.
now i read, i listen, quietly i reside


willful whispers arrange
the beats of this heart,
voices that shroud
these virulent nights
with aberrant loathing
and derivative dreams

perceptive phantoms
carve tokens of truth
on each and every page
spelling the most abject
syllabic mediocrity ever
to be lisped by such a




Salt Lake City 03 Dec 2012


word after word, sound chasing sound
these utterances climbing growing shying
at the bare-boned thought of emptiness
so obsessed these words with resurrecting
flesh that should in frigid earth entombèd
lie and yet deny such morose musings

no, they seem to say, we are much more
more than this and more than simple you
in silly dewy desires of flesh on eager flesh
lithe and fulsome flowing sensual streams
of dreams of me and you and me and you
and still no end in sight to this fine fantasy

they twist and turn and beguile beggar me
bounding grunting from bed to sweaty bed
they insist and implore and clamor yet
for more, these untoward titans of mine
reaching for an Olympian summit beyond
anything this mortal man could imagine

I gird them about my feeble frame, a sultan
of the Cage who has too long dithered
at delightful maidens and succulent feasts
while cowering at the fall of metalled feet
approaching in stealth and deathly mien
to steal my life for but a word, a sound

I clawing cling to them in ever fitful slumber
like Endymion watchful to the last for her
his lunar bride, be not far from me, beloved
heed these words, these sounds I gaping gift
unto you sweet temptress of brittle being
of distant seeing, of most delicious words

Salt Lake City 04 May 2012


I have been told–however undeserving–that my voice is pleasant to listen to. By which I think was meant that people fall asleep when they hear me speak. Which may be why I prefer writing. So if you are having trouble sleeping one night, this link will take you to a folder of me reciting my poetry. … Pleasant dreams.

reciting “words”