a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Saturday, July 2, 2011


her boots flowed down her legs
like fresh paint on stainless steel while
her heels nailed the floor to the earth

from my knees, my hands flowed up them
crying, Moses! Moses! Moses!

this isn't a fat cigar chomping banker
grinding the poor under foot,
this is Holy power,
silent and steady
and the rich nature flowing from her fountain
floods my being and melts my core

her fingers, like soft ivory
drive her panther claws deep into my flesh
branding my fettered stillness
with the insignia of her life

with need overcoming fear, i look up
into the radiance of one never vanquished
and her eyes of black flame weigh the cost

mountains are never given,
and conquered only in humility after trekking
the gentler slopes, and this i do
with peasant kisses as i rise like a dolphin
through her emerald depths, pausing
to press to her heat rising up
through shadowed crease

as i draw nearer to the furnace
i find liquor to be a weak intoxicant
and laws, to be laughed upon

this is the only law that matters;
SHE is the power that frees
and no price nor stripe beyond reason

tonight i might drink of the victory fools scorn
and know her breath as my own.
perhaps feel her raven hair upon my face, and
know her breasts as gifts to my tongue
while her pure honey seals purchase agreement
upon my manhood

the grant of knighthood may come by her lips of sultry polish
but only after acknowledging her proper place as Queen.
victory through submission