I'll never say ‘I love you’ to you again.

If you’re half a mile away
then you’re a million.
I might as well be talking
to the chair.
I was only trying to break your fall,
not put you up against the wall.
I hope you land on something
soft down there.

Apologies are never quite enough
especially when nothings really
changed since then to now.
Performance is an art;
I need to learn to play the part
and never say  ‘I love you’ to you somehow.

It seems I’m always betting
when you’re folding,
even when the ante's
less important than the sport.
I was trying to hold on tight;
didn’t care if I was wrong or right.
Now on every card I'm dealt
Jacks and Kings attend your court.

Apologies will never be enough;
especially when there's really been
no change from now to then.
Deception is an art.
I have to learn to hide my heart
and never say ‘I love you’ to you again.  



[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.]                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

shells

I was with her when  
she walked the seashore
picking up shells she found.
all the sizes and shapes
some tiny as baby teeth
others as big as your fist
some bleached pure white
like desert bones
and some were shades of pink
and beige or black as death.
The seashells are
empty houses now.  
empty houses and 
in an empty house.

babies in the nursery

I’ve got a bunch of things to do
Though I can’t say what they are
But I’m going to take a break anyway
and try to play guitar

There’s babies  in the nursery
but my hair’s been turning grey
And I’m looking  to see my  Joanie
again some day.

got fresh from the garden hot dogs
so don’t get daunted dears.
I’ll tap your nose , I’ll iron your clothes
I’ll try to dry your tears.

I heard it getting dark out
so bring your Frederick,  please
the doctors say you’ll catch
your death a terrible disease.

But there’s babies  in the nursery
and my hair’s a turning grey
And I’m looking  to see my  Joanie
again some day.

The medicine’s been poisoned
and the cure lost in the mail
the wrens out on the windowsill
can see you growing pale

There’s a gap that can’t be bridged
 in the matter of life and death
I avoid the question
and you respond with your last breath

If I didn’t know any better
then I’d swear I don’t know worse
most things don’t make sense
until you see them in reverse.

But there’s babies  in the nursery
and my hair’s a turning grey
And I’m looking  to see my  Joanie
Once again some day.

call and response

The day I noticed you
quietly blooming;
the waves of your hair
surrounding your face
like sweet chocolate frosting
on angel cake.
with eyes – deep
dark, semi sweet 
Was I not instantly consumed?

The awkward kiss I placed upon
your pale, dry mouth
was my everlasting first
and though I vainly tried 
appearing self assured
Couldn’t it be seen
I was a sand pail castle
holding back the ocean tide?

Did you fear your heart too fragile to share?
Or was I not the one you trusted with its care?
if you meant to keep it hidden
why let me go on thinking
it was something I had won?

The day we said goodbye
and you asked why I was crying,
I turned away and shook my head
and leaned against the wall.

Knowing so little it seems
I thought I held some claim
until you slipped so far from reach
and I lost all frame of reference.

The Only Child won’t
come to you for shelter;
she dances solo in the storm,
the lightning and the rain
then charges you admission
to the play. 

The day we said goodbye
and you asked why I was crying,
I couldn’t fully grasp it was
because your eyes were dry.



[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.] 

Hearts

I’m betting my intent
to be a welcome sight
will end up like a doormat
on the threshold of your senses.
If you offer me the slightest
pinch of your attention
do you worry I might test
your will or try to steal 
the breath from your quizzical smile?
It seems the cards are
always stacked the same
Does chaos really write the rules
or is your heart not in this game?
Think carefully before you choose
You must know I’d give anything to lose.











[who is reading? please feel feel to comment constructively.]