Scent
Shakes
Serious kiss
Our bodies Whipping each other
Wildly
Two rose vines entangled
In
A
Windy storm
Frantic Fucking
LOUD rushed breathing
Her name
His name
Twisting arcing
LOVING
Lick bite lick
RJH 7/26/10 Written at the Beachhouse
i danced a mighty dream
i fought & scraped & ran
to achieve it
soft & round brown
tumultuous siren
cornered me with bent legs
an Epic sky rained down
splashed & rolled down her cheeks
quieting them
she lay shaking
spoiling from race’s end
i held her ‘til she stilled
shaking slightly she sighed
tightly we wove the dream
a mighty dream
rjh 6/26/10 on lisa and making love
I'm hungry for life.
I'm hungry for sex.
I'm hungry for pain.
I'm hungry for mess.
RJH 8/7/10
Exhaustion
seeing [seeing] double [double]
why [why] why [why]
does it have to be [does it have to be]
as [as]
tough as [tough as] this [this]
why [why] why [why]
can anyone embrace themselves
[can anyone embrace themselves]
why is [why is] no [no] one [one]
straight up [straight] straight [straight] up [up]
why [why] why [why] why [why] why [why]
i [i] i [i]
am [am]
straight forward [straight forward]
honest [honest] honest [honest]
searching [searching]
without gaming [without] without [without gaming]
i [i] am [am]
direct [direct] direct [direct] direct [direct]
my [my] tasks [tasks] are [are]
for naught [for naught]
but [but] but but [but but] but [but]
Exhaustion
RJH [RJH] 7/16/10 [7/16/10]
Freedom fell to splinters
before an enslaved smile
Ship’s shards can be gathered
at the feet of the siren’s swollen toes
Please make her seaworthy
weave the independence
Suffer not a forced grin
Swim and sail circumnavigate for her
RJH 7/5/10
Across the parched desert mind
Bitter Golgotha
Ruddy tracks from steeds long gone
Lead the way to dust
What good would it do to find
Fabled Dark Tower
When the pathways of man’s brain
Are choked with ruin
Anger, apathy, anguish
Anti-everything
Where is salvation’s stone hedge
(Standing insurmountable)
Ash gray at sunrise
Built and surrounded by blood?
Only roses know.
RJH 2/12/10
Copyright 2010 by R.J. Huneke
Unconventional Coffee
Caffeinated seamstress artist
Was it fate that seared the tongue hotly?
A taste of bliss marks with coffee
What unconventionality is
This potential thought I have now?
Why not leap into my cup, sugar?
Need just one spoonful to sweeten
I do not know where these beans are from
Or how they were ground to form thus
The steaming, swirling, wet concoction
Raises me intelligently
You’re sensually smart and unknown
Yet so close and independent
I look into the pool of Your eyes
I drink the draught – I drink the draught
Pleasantly addictive, heart wrenches
Caffeinated brew inside veins
I want to know You from birth and on
Into the unforeseen depths poured.
Copyright 2009 R.J. Huneke 10/28/09
"What the Fuck Are People Thinking"
What the fuck are people thinking
I
Me
I
Me
“I have my own agenda”
Does anyone include others
Capitalism is superior
But without checks it runs rampant
GREED
SELFISH
What the fuck are people thinking
Do
You
Bend To
My ways
Otherwise: Fuck you
I don’t have to bend
My tree takes the wind, not by bending
But by snapping…broken
You ass
Break yourself break myself break all selves
Like an infectious disease
Polluting the few good people
What the fuck
What the fuck are people thinking
My way
My god
My two thousand year old deity said
My three thousand year old
Savior
Prophet
Philosopher
None said we…all said me…me…me…me
My gold land rock rules paths deaths holy megalomania
What the fuck are people thinking
Write this write that sad sacrilegious putrid puke repeats for the masses
Write the wrong write an impactful message
And we’ll kill you
Should people die for writing…it still happens
Today .. yesterday .. .. tomorrow ..
What the fuck are people thinking
Suspension
Of
…
Thought
…
watch TV enjoy the avoidance of mind of heart of
ALL that is outside the self the selfish agenda living unworldly
We are more.
RJH 7/24/10
Reader:
View this from top to bottom
And bottom to top
As you
The reader
Turn over the Hourglass:
“L’s Hourglass”
A graceful form turned over…….......….….an hourglass
Smelled t’ sharp but sweet smell of Your sweat
Hold my hand………..curl to me
Sands… colliding
Tumbling
Up down, up down
Sweetly soaked compounding
Taste dances on my lips, quivering
Wet hungry souls spilling the time from the glass
By R.J. Huneke Copyright 2009
ERASE THE PEN
Erase the pen it is not permanent
Your watery skin’s protected by a force-field,
Like a gas grill’s glow of heat
I see this auric and long to pierce it
To lap up harvested smell of incense scents in
Rapturously doused smile
To hold Your soul in My mind’s moistened eye
A warm flag of flame hovering on My bare palm
We two earnestly tremble
Swim smiles that separate our seas
I long to sense Your seamless sensibilities
Your golden gleam in the dark.
© R.J. Huneke 3/2009
HOURGLASS
Sands rushing down inch by mile
Granules, specks...…….. masses
Populations, ....….. worlds
They ...... fall
Or … rise
Up side.. down
Oh sands Oh
Rafts ..Of Sea
The Waves.. crawl
‘Cross .Waves.. voids
Whirlpools…..…of…. stars
Rough ..white..lights… masses
Time spills and rescinds and gathers
Copyright © 2007-2009 R.J. Huneke
Me:
Has to learn to chew on grenades
And not explode
Roll with the unforeseen punches
The bloated black
Eyes and the gut shot, the spitting
Up of blood in
Writhing anguish as the “no” does
Not arise but
Takes on insulting ignorant
Substitute words
I will become impervious
Oh, who am I
Kidding; I’m only human, yes
Just Trying to
Start with someone so frustrating
Why the effort?
I am anger boiled and dumped
On top of the
Besiegers to their blunt demise.
© R.J. Huneke 11/16/2009
I've got coffee and poetry
to write and to read
for learning, for true gifts, for me
and more besides
The steaming draught turns my reflection
dark and rippled
rippled and dark
dark and rippled
A painting of a man
warped and rippled
embracing his destiny
Copyright 2009 R.J. Huneke
RJH 11/29/09 11:41 am
"DRINKING THE LUCK"
The ground wrested the four-leaf-clover
From Her outstretched hand
They pulled and planted pulled and planted
But the Luck was won
The wrestled treasure was raised to lips
She’s drinking the Luck
© R.J. Huneke 6/28/2009
If I could eclipse
Unhappy people from sight
How many would I see?
Light on bright faces
Could be blinding – if enough
Were there to cross my sight
Would the room empty?
Eclipse it all to darkness
Highlighted by fire?
If I could eclipse
Unhappy people from sight
How many would I see?
By R.J. Huneke Copyright 2009 11/02/09
Yours
Dark clouds gleam, open
Dot-islands, city
Seas fall to Sun, rise
Gray shades vary so much
Contrast: earthly beach-grass
Won emeralds, bright
Sands of gold, ceded
Winds are hands, stop tears
Her smile is Yours.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 8/30/2009
"Settled Before the High Tide Line"
The high tides cries carry
Shipwrecks chair
Dilapidated apple casks
The rotted remains of
Beachgrass twigs
Like unearthly piles of worms
© R.J. Huneke 7/28/2009
White caps grow furious
Across the slender naked bay
My maiden calls to me
Lounging across the beach today
The moistened wind salt doused
Reminds me of deserted lips
Her breath is short then long
Parted closed parted closed Her lips
I litter Her body
Her face is flush my marks were soft
Her blue-green eyes look up
And mine rise to meet Hers aloft.
© R.J. Huneke 6/30/09 3:50 p.m.
OUTSIDE
Television is overrated as being beneficial
And underrated as an impediment to mankind.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 5/21/09
Sometimes the Amazing, the Fervent and the Beautiful approach, linger, and now won't leave my mind...
© R.J. Huneke 5/17/2009
the gray swans twisted with the bay
their necks, so fluid, waved up
curving below water
like lovers dancin’
heads hooked the fish
their meal flopped
on wings
gray
they’d grab
and wriggle
chew their wet wings
flow with the white waves
and in a rush of wings
another swan hurled itself
scared the lovers away: “my food!”
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 5/15/09
"STORM"
Plotting, plodding splash
Lightning snapped, like trees
Whipped, like bleeding cords
I rejoice with tears.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 5/1/09
HAUNTED WITH PLEASURE/PAIN
Her brown eyes haunt me to this very balanced/unbalanced day
Torn tears shake ripple
Rattle water shimmer twisting serrated scenarios
The softest dark eyes
Quaked with the tectonics of vicious smiles’ lines ‘neath Her eyelids
Fault lines: perfection
And if Her sweat approached those never pallid pupils in rows
Of beads, fields of drops
Regardless of the exultation I would see Her crying
Either carry on
The working local motions of happiness swarming each other
Or I would crash to
Create a dam for those brown eyes to yield before and steady
And as I recount
Her brown eyes haunt me to this very balanced/unbalanced day
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 1:13 p.m. 4/18/09
I Query
I don’t know where I stood but my legs were gone
I queried
I had already thrown myself to You twice
What to think
If you did not know my Dad you might mistake
Looks, harshness
You must understand, absolve him of that, for
He’s too kind
He cares too much; he it was who asked of Her
I said, “no”
He alone who asked through the weeks about You
Now I think
I miss having no opportunity to
Absolve You
My Dad understood the incorruptible maze
My mind’s rage
When a swarm of bees infiltrates the flowers
Pollen weeps
Deep impressions are life whipped around on legs:
Pollen, smiles
See You in my mind’s eye so stunning as I
Leap forward
How can a sad man without legs jump at all
Take a plunge
Throw myself before your riddled way of speech
Reveled in
Such soul You took and caressed my inner ears
Think on it
O do I, O do I, O do I brave girl
Remember
You chose the silence of words and lopped my legs
Off they popped
I don’t know where I stood but my legs were gone
I queried
Because I would still leap from the sharp red rock
Dive to You
Skim the waterfall’s mouth as I journeyed to
Your warm arms
The anywheres of nowheres I do not know
Where I am
Where I stood noting the changing gray color
Of Your eyes
The sapphire, emerald folds of Your soul
Your passion
You wear it as a badge that so few can see
But I know
What drives You is like what fuels me to draw words
All the time
We have such things to live for, but not as one?
Time of need:
We should aid each other in fighting the wind
With shorn sails
You hold me to Your shining winsome bosom
I hold on
Thoughts adrift the whirlpool pulls with the weeks gone
Didn’t know
That I would still be thinking so very strong
Am I wrong?
Did I alone feel the tingle on o’r skin?
Natural
Colliding along the corner of a cliff
A wave drifts
Will it slosh away or will it drift back home?
I query.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke 4/11/09 5:20 p.m.
BREAK THROUGH
The broken bay is like mirrors
Falling, calling, denying transparency:
Why can't one see beyond the
Water walls camouflaging Her eyes from me?
Why can't I touch Her surface
Without rippling and losing each foothold?
Dreams swim Her body, mind, soul
Why can't I smell, taste the water Her lips hold?
Copyright © 2009 R.J. Huneke 2/23/09
THE DEAD RISE AT BLACKWATER LAKE
Through the transparent roof rose a heavy moon
I watched its chalk halo fall dead against the quilted clouds.
A lonely leaf collapsed on the car’s roof, its veins a lifeless brown, and blew away.
Reclining in the molded bucket seat, my legs stretched like Frankenstein’s
And I drew a hearty inhalation of recycled pine trees.
Then my body stiffened, my nostrils flared
The din of horns blowing wrenched my eyes to the forgotten windshield.
Zombies approached my metallic aqua-marine Camaro
A mixed scent of puke in a garbage disposal preceded them.
Their lips split with maggots, squirming coils in violet gaps
Eyes pushed outward in leathery visages, like a mantis’
The dead stumbled toward my car with an insect’s fixed expression: hunger.
I snapped upright, a suede air freshener bouncing off my head.
Line upon line of suited slavering sallow zombies rose from Blackwater Lake
Where I had strategically parked to gain a better view of my date;
Where she had glistened brighter than the moon
Her nipples grew perplexed at the absence of my curious fingers
She sat up and cried aloud,
“Shit! Fuck! Shit! FUCK!” I slammed the car into reverse
For the monsters, though slow moving, advanced on the parking lot
Their horrifying ties, two dozen strong, wagged around their necks, like sickles
In ridiculous variations of Republican pink, violet, and scarlet.
My date’s screams echoed in my ears, echoed in my ears
The screeching of my tires was drowned out.
We both whiplashed back as I wrenched the car about and fled…
The street was for a moment peacefully naked like my date and I had been five minutes before
When out jumped the Blackwater’s mercenaries, firing drunkenly at anything that moved,
And all the President’s zombies, all the President’s men could not put him back together again.
For I had stomped on the gas
And said, “Hold on, baby,” and shot my gun:
The Camaro lunged forward and its bumper thumped the powder faced President Zombie
And a line of his grinning private security contractor zombies,
I turned; my radiator gasped and exhaled steam
The three-point-eight liter engine roared and I ran over them again
Until fingers broke off triggers falling to the ground
Their dislodged dripping brains, flat bruised-gray toes,
And spitting ventricles followed with a splat.
The zombies continued to wriggle and fire on us.
I made a disheartened getaway into the sour sapphire of the night
And I shouted, “Baby, the fuckers won’t die!
We were lucky to get away!
But the fuckers won’t die!”
Copyright © 2008 R.J. Huneke
HER KISS
Your lips part
Further adrift with purpose
A sight seen
Staring across the harbor
Blue beacons
Your eyes seen amidst the waves
Of Your smile.
Copyright © 2009 R.J. Huneke
WARNING X-RATED WORDS FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY BELOW:
Her Morning Fire
Woke with Her fire this morn
In too often idle remembering arms
Held onto Her journeyed smile
Gold body backs over, Her breasts brush my abs
Slick valleyed sights, She moves up
And down She comes to me with slight parted mound
Enter the warm valley’s slopes
Climb Her, fall from, climb, Her gust moans in my ear
On first wake Her supple form
Seduces morning glow, Her raging fire.
Copyright © 2009 R.J. Huneke
I NOW KNOW
I have a spine.
It’s been there all along.
Went soft with life’s
Fortunes smiling on me;
Let my “sweet side”
Get in the way of it.
I know my spine,
A ridge of mountains that
Can’t be beat down,
That weathers all the blue
Forgotten storms.
I have a spine.
It’s been there all along.
A lesson learned:
Nothing can take away
The hard edges
That have carved up my life;
And I am now
More of a man among
Strayed silent sheep;
And my spine won’t be lost
Next time around.
© R.J. Huneke 2009
1/29/09 11:07 p.m.
Monumental
H
I S
TORY
IS MADE
1/20/2009.
A MAN IS
HERE TO
LEAD US
WHITE -
WASHED -
WALLS R
PRESIDIN ’
OVER THE
1 MILLION
WHO SEE
& HEAR
ONE MAN
GIVING AN
EARTH SH-
ATTERING
TALK OF
EQUAL ITY
& WISDOM
& FAMILY
IN THE U.S.
A HISTORY
OF SLAVES
WHO DID
BLOODILY ,
ON THEIR
...BACKS…
BUILD ONE
DC WHITE-
HOUSE &
1 CAPITOL
NOW FREE
AT LAST
MINDS ARE
TO START
OPENING UP
DR. KING IS
GETTING THRU
GOOD LUCK
MR. PRESIDENT
BARACK OBAMA
© 2009 R.J. Huneke
1/20/2009
The Ants Go Marching March
The Ants go marching march
Down
Wielding their workloads
Down
Entered hole in head
Down
Such an open door
Down
Red line upon line
Down
Their feet uncoiled
Down
My entrails, their trek
Down
Over and over
Down
They hiked, searched for blood
Down
Climbed the mesas’ heights
Down
With razors not packs
Down
On their jointed backs
Down
Found the upper guts
Down
With rose antennae
Down
They brush the walls with
Down
Razors on their backs
Down
Sliding and scraping
Down
Tunneling with hands
Down
They do not have packs
Down
Just razors on backs
Down
Ripping my entrails
Down
© 2009 R.J. Huneke
1/13/2009 4:50 p.m.
Pour It
We are creatures of habit
Sometimes we take for granted
The pleasures of daily lives
Simply seeing certain shapes
Feeling for frosted flakes early
Smelling sensuous meals’ steam
Holding crystal (glass), tasting thrill
Combing crimson (air), hearing song.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke
1/2/2009 10:18 a.m.
© 2009 R.J. Huneke
R.J.H. 12/2008
Blinded by the Guinness Descendant from the Light
Coercion
Giftedly Conniving
Ingeniously Warped
Into Planning, Plotting
She’s Panting softly
Rubbing Up Against Me
Begging Attention
Nailing My Frame Of :Mind:
…
Quotidian Turns Into
…
Auteur’s Brooding Angrily:
…
The Dog’s Hunt
For Table Scraps.
© 2008 R.J. Huneke
12/18/2008 7:02 p.m.
VAULTED
Vaulted dreams
Swallowed whole
Assimilated in body cells
Bouncing bravery by balance beams
Digested
Part of You
Invisibly driving You alive
Headstanding on the faded brown dock
Brilliant blue
Sky's are sharp
Slicing the backdrop of real and not
Dancing dedications dare daylight
Keep them in?
Win them out.
Copyright © 2008 R.J. Huneke
12:15 p.m. 12/11/2008
"Planned Results"
Intricate puzzle box
Become afraid
Fear that it may no longer work
Take what you have and love
Fear that it may no longer work
Throw it away
Two hands beating in clock
Hearts knock, pulsing, as one
Become afraid
Fear that it may no longer work
Wrench apart - separate
Fear that it may no longer work
Throw it away
Remains are out of sight
Our business: busy
Become afraid
Fear that it may no longer work
Plans, books’ worms, papers, weeks
Fear that it may no longer work
Throw it away
One’s time cannot be shared.
One’s time cannot be shared?
Become afraid
Fear that it may no longer work
One’s time cannot be shared??
Fear that it may no longer work
Throw it away
One’s time cannot be shared.
© 2008 R.J. Huneke
12/6/2008 4:42 p.m.
I will bare my Heart to the World
Despite it: being the chink in wrinkled armor,
The bare hollow in the scales of Smaug’s left breast,
The King on a marble board bereft of pawns,
The cement sails on a boat without wind…
I will bare my Heart to the world.
Despite it: housing Hope – humans’ power aid,
Learning, living, sharing, creating Life Love,
Carousing carefully measured Courage-shots,
Barring the way to pain – a glass prism…
I will bare my Heart to the World.
Despite it: being the centered Soul’s cavern,
Delicate beacon of One as everything,
Driving force pumping broken blood – aired red paint,
Circulating the glow of rosy cheeks…
I will bare my Heart to the World.
Despite it: freely given – returned tattered,
Heavy-handed marks from being held too hard,
Open to be ripped from chest leaking marrow,
Defying logic – fragile – saving all…
I will bare my Heart to the World.
© 2008 R.J. Huneke 9:19 p.m. 12/04/2008
"I Hear"
Her smile stands alone
It sticks to my mind in its
Multitude of forms and guises
But the SOUND!
All of the Sound finds me
Her whispers, coughs, small and GREAT
Her anchoring words, released cries
Drowned out waves.
Pushed on, “Go Robbie Yeah!”
Race’s shout still echoes, throbs
Her intricate exultations
Shelter lands.
Rain poured last we discussed
Her laughter splashing my soul
Her dreams, exhaling, calling out
Never deaf.
© 2008 R.J. Huneke
DRIFTED THROUGH MY SUBCONSCIOUS DESERT AND STILL YOU FOLLOWED
Your name crept over dry lips
As I turned over to sleep
Without thinking my last thoughts
Chased Your breath from my lone ear
Standing I feel gravity
Ignore its effects, forget
Yet when I lie down yield to
Sleep I can’t push You from me
Last night I took rest
Focused on unfocused visions of my day
Myriad fractions
Where until I lie falling, You were absent
Your word passed my lips
And into the clouds of my mind wondered,
Wandered asked for You,
“How was your (un)wavering life without me?”
“Why?” I asked Her. “Why?”
I fight to cast You away
Day after wheel grinding day
Scar won’t form, wet wound won’t heal
And Your Wildwood smile
(You were nothing but joyful
Walking duck, duck, goose on Sound)
Looms fresh in my sweating mind
Are You forever lost? Kissed.
R.J.H. 11/14/2008 9:05 p.m.
© 2008 R.J. Huneke
Thirst For Knowledge
I can feel the grain of the wood of my desk, its grin
Smooth, yet delicate, myriad one of a kind finds
Ridges living pathways to the very soul of it
She’s for view, all amazing, on the outside to touch
There is so much to know and learn, Her wooden surface
But I want more: to discover grains hidden within
Feeling the fluid callused feet, line upon soft line
I desire bare glimpses to the sap that makes Her
R.J.H. 9:20 p.m. 10/23/2008
© 2008 R.J.Huneke
POEM Published in the EAST END ELEMENTS LITERARY JOURNAL Spring 2008
MORNING
Awake
Rise painfully
Seeing double
Hum the Beatles
Think
Jo Ann’s eyes
Silky brown waves
Smooth round islands
Stir
Late to work
Drive, hum, think
Seeing double
On arrival
A wake
Smell
Vanilla memories
Time to leave work
Race home to Her
Absence
Copyright © 2008 R.J. Huneke
Email Me Here As I Draw Words
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