By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

Only in youth I stood near Her, as close as breath.
Already aware of how memories fled to regret,
Moments with Her, unappreciated in their short lives,
But living to ripe old age in even so young a mind--
An odd place for such old, old acquaintance.

I fear I shall not see Her again, except upon death.
Where this world's shadowy awareness ceases, and yet
I so fervently hope the Spirit of loveliness survives,
That God of memories fled may be so kind
As to grace us again with love's old acquaintance.

But that time, and only that one time, as I stood
Near Her as close as breath, did I know
That the memory was forming upon itself
Enrapt in itself, and I that I could better save it,
Through awareness upon awareness.

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

Before a wishing-well, I tossed a copper in.
And I wished it were shining silver,
And that I loved her, if not today, then later by Grace,

Yet, my wish was not of silver,
And withal, copper wishes come by copper dues paid.
And no amount of wishing changes the metal.

So regrets I have today,
And I pay precious sorrow,
Weeping golden tears inside.

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

There is an Imagination in Youth,
That Youth does not understand,
For to taste triumph, fail we must,
So says Wisdom, and never dispossessed of longing,
The Young Man imagines flavor in what is his,
By right of age, but does not truly taste it.

No longer young, I understand.
Imagination!!! Imagination!!!
To long only for smooth lips,
And having them, thrust to evermore exalted Imagination,
This is the Imagination of Love, and so we continue.

I bless and curse young fools,
Sighing, "Yes, I was the same."
And turn to my home, and child,
And the business of survival.

Many point and laugh and say,
And all the books and movies point and laugh and say,
That grown men return once to their old selves,
Better and bigger fools, with more foolish Imagination,
"Coming to his senses" upon humiliation.

I say we but long for Imagination,
Not Youth, and not this or that incidental,
We seek the memory of the longing itself, Imagination!!

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

He visits last summer's love,
First time in Los Angeles.

She, "I know you are sincere when you cry,
Seeing me after months gone by,
After we loved last summer."

He, "I love you so much."

She, "I loved you well,
The hill ahead is very steep and I tire,
Let's go this other way."

He, "But we only began this stroll,
And, this rise can't be called a hill,
At best a knoll, we'll stride up together,
Come on, you'll see."

She, "I didn't want to say,
But He lives atop the hill."

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

He took and placed these upon her soul,
Her lovely body, and her grace,
Her laugh, a puff of air--
Rustling her dress out of place,
And her starlight drenched hair.

He refused all poets' words:

Be drunken by her creamy breast,
Imagine, but imagine the rest.
Imagine!! Imagine with all your heart,
That her soul too is lovely limbed,
And moon-gold gentle as her hair,
And warm as her smoothly parted lips.
Oh, imagine, yet do not believe.

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

Who loves more, you or I?
I seek you constantly,
I miss you absent seconds, and kiss my pillow after you,
I give you all my heart, I give all my heart.
I forgive instantly when you return,
From laughing near the young men.

Are you not but jealous my dear?
I am with you so much,
The day has many parts,
And there are so many wonderful people!
Love is better, even so.

Silly lover-boy, is it your first summer love?
It will end, you know

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

Passion comes by corded wrist,
And exquisitely filthy places,
Wherein I am good enough,
Where there is blood and bleeding.

Now that I Love and Know you well,
I must go out, I look for those places,
Where the Passion dwells.

What is wrong, my Love, my Wife?
We courted passionately, and sinned powerfully for our times!
We married, and still Loved, wasn't all well?
Today, I'd expect some little less than sublime.

She speaks of a secret!!
A horrible secret she keeps inside.

By Mac Daddy/Walrus of Love

My Love, what is the horrible Secret you hold inside?
That shreds your soul, and kills passion for me?
Aren't we better today, knowing each other so well?

In truth, I am afraid of your Secret.
I believe it is the end of us