a half a block away

and I could see your hips shaking

drawing the eyes of men

(and to be fair

a large share of their women)

to that dark portal to a hershey heaven

throbbing under those tight pants

the men goofy and flustered (and wanting her...)

the women comparing envying adjusting (and wanting her...)

but all I see is some dark haired angel

leading to where I no longer care to go

sorry dear...but it's your turn to steam things up

I leave the world to its perpetual fire

glad to feel the heat without getting burned...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

a small sail on a roiling ocean

under this chilly gray sky

it's either too far from shore and doomed

or more than half way to where it's going

I picture myself on that little boat

without my face or identity

just some voyager moving on

to where God only knows

then the sail disappears on the horizon line

and I turn from the shore

and face the roiling ocean of gray sky

that swamps me in its vastness

with no Shining Light stepping across those waves

to rescue me

that is left to me to do

to be my own Imitation of the Savior

to pull myself up the rope of

some Jacob's Ladder I found

as a wave of clouds pounded down

and turned me inward to see that line...

now where the relief of a salvation?

where the strength to haul myself up?

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

I'm 59 and holding

I can't believe it's so

I still feel like I'm 23

and all ready to go

the young'uns seem to love me

they love to read my stuff

I guess to them I'm the Super Senior

who never grew up...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

a Boy Scout of the stars and planets

I'm prepared

(even if I have no idea what for)

and it tees me off no end

to see my fellows trailblazers

taking us off the right path

because they had a fevered dream one night

of Destiny and Man's able to rise

to that favored fiasco

no one plays fair

no one

and fools like me add to the debacle

with our purity

which we think is so unimpeachable

and find to our dismay

we were just another part of the problem

oh plagues and vanity

inner and outer reflect each other

with disturbing consequence

who can move forward without the delusions

that define our beings each in this sandpit

we call the World

and the cold partiality that the God of Love displays

cold and ruthless as any spurned lover

I'll take my Swiss Army Knife

widdle some twigs

and build my tiny fire

to keep slight warm

in the Great Blast of Judgment

freezing as Miss Emily wildly out it

"zero to the Bone"

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

all he's exhausted

in his steady wringing

of time's neck

exhaust him now

in the crushed throat

of time's ever-healing

laser will to drain him

he aware already

of his diminished capacity

amazed to be

this far along but feeling it

feeling it

and ever this much closer

to laying it down

on the cherished earth

we leave him here

empty as the life forms

he diminished

with his hunger and thirst

and his bony sabers

losing the grip on the throat...

all at once... I can breathe...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

so time passes

so time comes

time enough to despair

but never to amend

but time will teach another way

to take your time and your measure

so time passes

so time comes...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.

like spiders

we weave our own webs

like flies

we get caught in other webs

we wish to have it both ways but can't

so we are spiders and we are flies

and therein all

our lack of hope lies...

Content (c) 2008-2012 Philip Milito.