Lovers

Whispering winds dance delightfully this eve

Setting the mood for two lovers to give

Carnal desires propelled in unison

Hesitation defeated as passions burn bright

Resistance futile as bodies intertwine

Exploring new corners and secret places

Soft touch, then rough, just enough

Arched for pleasure, leverage finds treasure

Slow, so firm, hard pressed as one

Thick air, heavy breathe, sweat

Sweet release, conquered, subsiding seas

Gazing into one another

Two lovers, lay back and watch the stars.

Randy sturridge

id.

Art by: Dickie Gonzo

my disillusioned will to live

is challenged by my medicine

i chose to take i fought to get

i've gotta have, refuse to quit

dyslexic minds all read me wrong

my masked emotions are prolonged

i see my future dark and bleak, i close my eyes

and pray for sleep 

where dreams are scars that i can't keep

where visions die and dreams are caught 

by the wealthy hands of a greedy lot

who need no more and take no less

to my disease they won't confess

i live for night, for lucid slumber

when i'm free from fear 

and life's disorder

dickie gonzo

Drawing: Gaze

Look about the room,
Canvas all the corners
Catch a gazing stare
Look away moving on


                   Look about the room
                   Full of silent watching
                   Facing forward all but one
                   Look that way just for fun
     
                                         
                                         He is staring still he stares     
                                         Why's he facing backwards                     
                                          A slow spreading smile
                                          Contorts his long wry face

                                                             
                                                            Open mouth empty eyes
                                                             Blanket, alone, in pain
                                                             He settles back in his seat
                                                             Facing forward, conforming                    

The strange things that happen. That we will never know why...

Randy Sturridge