OUR DREAMS

WE LIVE IN A PLACE

OF LIMBO

OUT HERE
 PERCHED

ON THE

EDGE

JUST

A

STEP

BEYOND REALITY

ON THAT
THIN
RAZORS
 EDGE

OF

DREAMS

DREAMS
THAT

FAN

THE

FLAMES

OF

OUR

DESIRES
JUST ONE STEP
BEYOND

REALITY
THAT'S

OBSCURED

BY
OUR
FLAMING
DESIRES

j SWEPTSON

Light In The Dark Of Night"






In time before midnight I quitely slip into our bedroom hoping not to awaken you from your early sleep. The room softly lit by the moonlight that's slipped past the drawn shades. Gently pulling back the covers I slip into our warm bed almost as a feather. In the soft light I notice the frame of your face at times I need to as you at times put it just stare. As one would in disbelief. Disbelief that you are really there. In the dim light I notice your hands gentle and warm hands that I so enjoy holding, kissing. I feel your warm body next to mine. Wrapping my arms around you as you breathe in and out in rhythm to mine.Moments as these while you sleep allows our current to mingle our energy to flow from one to the other

TIL THE BLOOD RUNS DRY

TIL THE BLOOD RUNS DRY

EARTH WET IN SHADES OF RED

SHADES OF BLACK

VOICES

NOW HEARD

ONLY IN FAINT WHISPER

MUFFLED BY PAIN

BY SUFFERING

ONES EYES

AND EARS

FAR

TOO ACCUSTOMED

TO SUCH

WE TURN

LOOKING FAR BEYOND

TIL THE BLOOD RUNS DRY

EARTH BLACKENED BY DEATH

DEALT BY

MANKIND

MEN,WOMEN AND CHILDREN

TOSSED

ASIDE

PILED HIGH

AS ONE MIGHT

STACK WOOD

THEIR VOICES

NOW SILENT

TIL THE BLOOD RUNS DRY

j SWEPTSON

JEWELED RED

SIMPLY A DROP

OF DEW

HANGING

PRECARIOUSLY

ON

THE

EDGE

OF

A

BLADE

OF

GRASS

PRISMED

TO A SHADE OF JEWELED RED

PAINTED

FRESH

WITH

A

SIMPLE

STROKE

OF

MORNINGS

LIGHT

jSweptson

IS NOT

LIFE IS NOT

OF ONE

WHO STRUTS

AND FRETS

THEIR HOUR

ONLY TO

NEVER

DANCE THE DANCE AGAIN

LIFE

IS REVOLVING

EVOLVING

SPINNING

AS A TOP

GONE

MAD

SHOULD

ALL IMPLODE

OUR ENERGIES

AT LAST

FREE

FREE FROM

THIS PRISON

OF

BONE AND SKIN

FREE TO

ENTWINE

ONE WITH ALL

FREE'

TO

BE

ETERNAL

SUCH IS

LIFE

jSweptson

SILENT MORNINGS

THE MORNING SILENT
BUT FOR THE SONG
OF A MORNING DOVE
SO SILENT ONE HEARS FEATHERS
THAT DROP
AS SHE SHAKES
OFF MORNINGS DEW

THE MORNING WITH ITS
AIR
THICK
SO THICK
ONE MIGHT SPOON IT
SCOOPING OUT DEEP CHUNKS
LETTING THRU
THE LIGHT OF A NEW DAY

A SILENT MORNING
SO VACANT OF SOUND
ONE HEARS THE HUM
OF A BREEZE
AS IT WHISPERS
PAST
TALL BLADES OF GRASS
THAT HANG HEAVY
WET WITH DEW

THIS SILENT MORNING
VACANT OF SOUND
ONE HEARS
THE BEATING OF
BIRDS TAKEN WING
AS ONE
CHASES THE OTHER
CUTTING THROUGH
THE DAMP, THICK
MORNING AIR

jSWEPTSON

CONVERSATIONS ON THE RED VELVET COUCH

TOGETHER THEY SAT ON THE RED VELVET COUCH

THE ROOM SOFTLY AGLOW

BATHED IN WARM CANDLE LIGHT

HER INTOXICATING PERFUME

SWEETENED THE NIGHT

AS TOGETHER

THEY SAT ON THE RED VELVET COUCH

TWO ALMOST EMPTY WINE GLASSES

SAT ON THE TABLE BEFORE THEM

BOTH GLASSES TOUCHING

AS IF IN AN EMBRACE

BOTH WAITING PATIENTLY

TO BE REFILLED WITH THE DARK RED WINE

THE TASTE OF WINE STILL LINGERED

AS HER TONGUE

SLIPPED PAST THE CORNERS

OF HER FULL LIPS

FULL LIPS

THAT CRIED OUT

TO BE KISSED

KISSED

FULL MOUTH

KISSED

WITH ALL THEIR WETNESS

KISSED

WITHIN ALL HER WANTING

THEIR HANDS

TOUCHED AND ENTWINED

HE PULLED HER INTO HIM

THEIR WANTING LIPS MET

HER LIPS

SO WET

SO FULL

SO HOT

SO PASSIONATE

THEY BOTH TREMBLED

AS THEIR YET CLOTHED BODIES

TOUCHED

ELECTRICITY FLOWED

BETWEEN THEM

SETTING OFF SPARKS

THAT FILLED THE ROOM

THEIR TONGUES

DANCED WITH PASSION

HER'

FILLING HIS WANTING MOUTH

HIS

MOUTH DRINKING IN

EACH

DELIGHTFUL

MOMENT

GENTLY

HE SUCKED

HER

FULL BOTTOM LIP

INTO HIS MOUTH

HE COULD FEEL HER WARM BODY

AS SHE SANK

DEEPER

INTO HIS ARMS

THE PASSION GREW

THE

FIRE

RAGED

THE

ROOM

SPUN

AS TOGETHER THEY SAT

ON THE RED VELVET COUCH

jSWEPTSON

Mornings Silence

As early morning rubs her sleep filled eyes and night bids its adieu

I sit in mornings silence

With fields ablaze in Indian grass blanketed in mornings ghost gray mist

While high above the tree line a thousand birds take orchestrated flight

I sit in mornings silence

mornings sun breaks through the clouds revealing brightly colored remnants, tattered like ribbons streaming stretched across the newborn sky

I sit in mornings silence

Sitting and simply watching the forest all dressed in green as she suddenly breaks

into frenzied dance

of twists and turns

as a gentle breeze whispers by

I sit in mornings silence

All before the day awakens all before mornings silence is broken

j.Sweptson

PIECES OF THE AMERICAN DREAM

The american dream

dashed to pieces

against the rocky shore line of greed
No matter how one wishes to paint it

personal

corporate

greed is greed

no matter the form
Factories long the back bone of america

gone
As the mist in early morning's sunlight
Factories that once banged and clanged

turning out livelihoods

now hum in some far off distance shore
While the trade street mongers

live off the sweat

blood

and lives

of others less fortunate
So it has always been in the land called greed

the rich and powerful

devour those beneath them
Gnawing and chewing

on each morsel

picking their teeth

with the pieces of others

broken dreams.

j.Sweptson

THE LAND OF THE "$2,000.00" PURSE

The Land of Multi-Million Dollar Homes as oil creeps ever so near the shore line. Those Forgotten Women and children that sleep the night away in some cold,damp alley . Their rich "sisters" lost in their shopping addiction. Buying more of what they don't need just to buy. The Land Of The "$2000.00" Purse, Oh! how proudly they serve. The Land Of Greed which has blinded us all, we turn a deaf ear to what's real. Wars rage on, men, women and children die by the thousands yet blind and deaf we remain. Few feel the pain of those that suffer. For Greed has become our mantra our god of sorts. In The Land Of Million Dollar Homes and $2000.00 Purses what more could we want.

j.Sweptson

SIMPLY, ODDLY AMAZED

Simply, Oddly Amazed
Day in and day out I'm amazed at humanities need for religion. Yes, the god all nations bow down to no matter how he or she paints it. Fairy tales produced by those with one thing in common, CONTROL of the masses. More of earths inhabitants have been sacrificed, slaughtered in every way possible over RELIGION. Take for instance the two wars that rage on. I don't know about you but if I worshipped a god it would not be one that allowed such as whats happening at the moment. My god wouldn't allow destruction of life in any form. How about yours.

Forty Years

Some time around the middle of June 1970 I got a wild hair stuck up my butt. amercia's invasion of Vietnam was in full swing and I knew my number was about to come up and so being one of those brain washed patriotic fools I decided to join up.
I was a green still wet behind the ears boy and did I ever have a lot to learn. Basic Training whipped my ass. The drill sergeant and I just never did see eye to eye. So needless to say I spent lots of time doing KP. But finally Basic was over and then I was off to AIT. My MOS was originally to be Broadcasting but some how I ended up training for the Military Police. Actually everything went well though AIT and I graduated as a PFC.
I was off to Fitzsimmons General Hospital in Aurora Colorado. Was I ever in for a shock. Fitzsimmons was an amputee hospital. Better said it was a place where the Army dumped soldiers that were torn apart. I still recall the empty eyes. The young empty guys with the hollow empty eyes.

Yes, Its Me Ben

In The Land Of I

IPod, UPod, We AllPod
Want It
Need It
Gotta Have It
Living In The Land
Of
Greed
They Have It
I Want It
I Need It
IPod
UPod
We AllPod

A Place

There's a place, I go
When my spirits
lay low
When the light dims
within my soul
A place I sit to ponder
To replay the circle
plow things up and under
from the depths of my mind
A place to sit in
silence
Where I escape the violence
of life
Through dreams of
tranquility
A place where life's
troubles
lives woes
drift slowly away
from the smoke of my angers
fire
jSweptson

The Best Of Intentions

I have seen the sea of stars and bars
Flapping, Snapping on the black topped highways
The glow of candles so meaningfully burning
throughout the night
Who's numbers dwarf the stars
in the dark of night
I've heard the moans and cries
chorused by tears that fall as monsoons rains
to the ready swollen rivers of anguish
I've walked down those green rolling valleys
that lay thickly filled with white crosses
That stand sentinel
What of these will speak for me
who among them
Has such powers to breathe life
back into this box
of rattling bones
What glue might they conjure
to piece together my broken soul
Oh! Speak to me shout to my ears
for I so know the answer
For all the spent good intentions
soon become arcade
Once the coin drops through the slot
the show is soon forgotten
Now once again they speak of war
The line drawn through its sand
again our armour stands ready
our faces turned towards
the winds of war
jSweptson

My Side Of Town

On my side of town people drive around in those behemoth SUV'S (STUPID UNIVERSESIZE VEHICLES) you know the type that needs its own zip code. Of course when one's home is the size of Texas anything smaller would look out of place. Its a neighborhood where keeping up with the Jones is a full time job. Yes, on my side of town were SOOOOOOO IMPORTANTTTTTT.

Saturday Morning's

April has almost slipped from within my grasp. Though its only half finished it appears as the glass half empty. Its a quite morning as I sit here listening to the silence strange how when one sits and just listens how much the silence becomes filled with much more than silence.

Saturday Morning

While I'll admit it wasn't a night filled with sleep it was more than I've had in the previous four nights. Saturday morning all fresh and new. Its a cold morning as Ben and I head out for our walk about. Just a an hour or so past my favorite time of the day. That hour just before the banging, clanging citizens of earth awaken or at least on this side of the globe. The quite hour when all one hear's are the mating call of the birds of spring.