The one where there's dancing...

bass lick
swing your hips

back beat
moves your feet

power chords
I have no words

how do I
make you move like that?

The one where I dream...

I love the way her hips sway
the caress of fabric on her thighs

the bounce of her hair as she walks by
walks away

and then she stops
turns and smiles
a twinkle in her eyes

her lips begin to part
to speak to me
and...


damn alarm clock!

The one where she burns...

A fragile and wounded heart
feels the fire and is afraid
yet burns at both ends

the flame that burns
forges near unbreakable bonds
but still can leave a scar

the immovable object
meets an irresistible force
just like Jane says...

an excitable reaction
is certain
the laws of physics and love say

The one where I bleed...

I've got your name written inside of my heart
there's no scar
just a wound that won't heal

Every beat sings your name
Every beat brings pain
A sweet heaviness...

That wound that won't heal
Issues forth a teardrop
Staining the sleeve of my shirt

my heart lives there
exposed to the elements
can you see it?

The one where we walk on the beach...

I want to walk on the beach
under a majestic full moon

hand in hand
dancing in the surf

your eyes glistening
reflecting the lunar light

our laughs rising above
the sound of the waves

I want to lay with you on the beach
until the moon passes its torch

and the sun breaks the horizon
setting the ocean on fire

and fall asleep in your arms

One Tribe

We came from many places, many times and many routes.

But come we did, brought together by powers beyond our control, beyond our comprehension.

We came from different families, faiths, races, genders and orientations.  Different Branches, different "Ranks" and different roles. Some were military brats, some civilian brats and some were "local" brats.

But we didn't know any of that, and it's clear that's a lesson we never really learned, did we?

We are many things, but we are One Tribe.

We are K-Town!

One from the archives...

bleak frozen winter
cold to the bone
cold like a grave
and empty

raw and dry
cracked and bleeding
darkness frames
my days

yet the sun
still warms
my face

the hard, hard ground
like a rock
yet still mere dust
like my heart

the seed will
wither and die
blown away
by the howling wind
consumed by vermin

yet the sun
still warms
my face

and a bud stirs
in the darkness

The one where I begin at the beginning...

He met Tom Sawyer once. He was sitting on a porch in Lawrence Kansas with Les Paul, smoking one of those cheap ass cigars that he liked. The smell was not unlike the one that came from under the hood of his car right before the big plumes of white smoke. I knew I shouldn't have tried to drive this piece of shit all the was across the county, he thought to himself as he rolled to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. - to be continued...

self portrait - with apologies to J. Deutschendorf

there's a darkness in my soul
how it got there
I don't know

there's a weight on my spine
twisting me
pushing my face into the ground

there's a hole in my heart
an emptiness
black like space

there's a coarseness to my tongue
like a sailor
it will lash out

there's a light in my eyes
a sparkle
it will fool you

there's sunshine
on my shoulders
and it makes me happy

The one where I prattle on...

I hunger, but have no taste for food
I thirst, but nothing quenches my throat
I sleep, but rest eludes me

where is my feast
where is my fount
where is my repose