Not From Me

The words I want to say

would mean the world to you;

The things that I would do   

would make your dreams come true;

The feelings that I have within

could set you free; could set you free.

Coming from him, that is,

but not from me. No, not from me.

He’ll never do what I would do for you

He doesn’t feel the love I feel inside

the words I can’t contain

He’ll never think to say.

And you won’t have it any other way.

No, you won’t have it any other way.

For you consider me a friend
While my whole world comes to an end.
And he’s the only one your heartaches for
forevermore, forevermore.
So this is how it shall remain
for me and you; with you and him.
The circumstance remains unchanged.
Love lives alone in hearts estranged.


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

Thinking too much on the No.7 bus

Remembering the morning rays;
first days of summer.  Ocean air
locks fingers with heaven scent 
On the 7 bus to the Regency.
with you sitting next to me.
We split the price of a popcorn;
I forget what we went there to see.
but I kissed you, half on
your mouth and your chin as
the theater lights dimmed
and you swallowed your gum when you
laughed and you leaned to get closer to me.

All of these memories
start me to thinking
and that’s the worst place
to run around free.
Go thinking too much
and I start sinking deeper
than is safe for a
lonely man like me.

Cold winds were whipping the palms
by their roots till they Tango’ed;
entangled, like sprung guitar strings.
I was watching you taxi, never
thought you’d get airborne
with little more than will power
and blind faith for wings

All of these memories
start me to thinking
and that’s the last place
that I ought to be.
Go thinking too much
and I start sinking deeper
than is wise for a lonely man to be.
Does it ever get easier
wishing the ‘what if’s’ away?
And could I be any stronger
If I wasn't so sure I was wrong?
But the dark nights unravel
whenever my thoughts go astray.
The dark nights are endless
whenever my thoughts find that day:
And remember the morning rays;
first days of summer.  Ocean air
locks fingers with heaven scent 
You sitting next to me
on the 7 bus to the Regency. 
You sitting next to me
on the 7 bus to the Regency.
You sitting next to me.

Look me up if you're ever on Rainbow Road.

You don’t know who the hell I am
she advised. Potions
have neutered my delusions
with ritual scarification and choice.
Tiger’s tooth beneath my bed
I set about the business of
pretending all my dread full fears
come true.

The currents which connect
us with memory’s source
have followed the arrows of tide.
To struggle against them is to sink and

drown in an empty, inhospitable pool.

But buoyancy is most certainly
immune to amnesia;
and leaves have learned
their lessons by rote. 
They monochromatically cluster in spring
and, with death defying colors, burst
before they surrender to the soil
in free fall.
he replied.

La Vie

From the dark of the wings
none can see what
the voice over paints;
with notes that rise like
an infant’s cries from
the pain and  the
ecstasy of birth.
A sensuous girl poses
with limbs outstretched
and frozen in tableau 
blindly denying the break
in the bough which is
weakened from ages ago.
But the secrets she cradles
fall fragile as feathers
and land like sparrow’s eggs.

You lead with your heart
while thoughts play,
roundelay, in  your mind
Your chart was drawn from
stars that dance  and
descend on midnight’s
most delicate rim
where they fall , fragile as feathers
but  land like sparrow’s eggs

I wish that I could hear your voice.

I wish that I could hear your voice
if the choice were mine to make
I’d like to talk with you
Hear the shadings in your words,
the way your tongue and lips move
to form sounds. soft and harsh
the choking whispers and  the startled gasps.
Your breath flowing from deep
in your chest near to where
your heart resides
I wish I could hear your laugh
if the chance were mine to take
to make you laugh,
I’d take that chance
I’d make that choice
to hear your voice and imagine
that you are within reach
to hear the nuance of your
speech and catch the vibrations
in my ears.
I wish I could hear you sigh
as your voice begins to break.
the hesitation when you
hold back. The delight
in your own delight
when you release a phrase
and hear yourself for the first time.
The strange and the familiar blend
the voice from your mouth and the
one in my head; contrasted and compared
the woman and the girl,
the stranger and the friend
the mystery, the magic and the mundane.