simple song of love

Days, even the best of them, well
it seems as all they ever do is pass -
like clouds across the pale blue skies,
or dragon flies,
skipping, over blades of grass.

But the days we've spent together
will never leave me.
The days we spend together
will never fade away completely.

Love, I don't know what it is
or what it's supposed to do.
All I know, all I ever know,
is how I feel when I'm with you.

Suspend your disbelief
for just an ordinary day.
Suspend your disbelief
and let defenses fall away.

You've gone about as far
as sleeping can be taking you.
Better now to find a kiss,
the one that will awaken you.
Better now to find a life,
a life you can awaken to

And the days we spend together
will never leave us or lead us astray.
the days we'll spend together
will never fade away.

Gypsy Fortune

I heard the word she set up shop
a couple exits down the pike.
I hadn't thought to seek her out
when I first rev'ed up my motor bike.
But I've always had these questions
and there's always been some doubt
and I'm not getting any younger
so it's time I find some means
of sorting it out.

The Gypsy vends the powder
in plastic vial on mirrored shelf
but before she gets to your fortune
she knows to sell you on herself.
Oh, the charms that she possesses -
So hypnotic, strong and pure..
With applications so damn clever,
why won't they work for me on her?

She gave me to the magic
that works, I've seen, just fine
but the only one I want now
isn't part of the design.
She exists outside the borders
She's the carrot on the stick
she exists between the line
like where the window meets the brick
and it's only an illusion
but the illusion's not a trick.
It's all just an illusion,
but the illusion is not a trick.

Yeah, I heard the word
she closed up shop
Now there's only echoes there.
in an empty strip mall storefront
She took all that I hold dear
She fed me no deception
she offered no false hope
she made no empty promises
she delivered the straight dope
But I failed to follow directions
and I neglected to read the signs
I saw only what I wanted
so the only fault is mine.

She exists outside the borders
She's the carrot on the stick
she exists between the line
like where the window meets the brick
and it's only an illusion
but the illusion's not a trick.
It's all just an illusion,
but the illusion is not a trick.

exactly nothing

You owe me exactly nothing

and someday I mean to collect.

It isn't a question of timing

only a matter of abject neglect.

I'm impoverished of your affection,

a situation requiring impossible correction,

while I'm privately eyeing the prize 

I'm denying I treasure.

You're my guilty pleasure.

I owe you exactly nothing

and somehow I'm preparing to pay.

It isn't a question of why
just a matter of finding a way.

You're immune to my useless distraction

out of tune with my limited power of attraction

while you're silently crying. Your 

eyes should be good for
more than perennial waterfalls. 

I have no opinions but those 

that I keep under wraps.

Your doubts and their minions

might catch me up quick in
exquisitely beautiful traps.

But life is too short to be hiding

with longings unspoken.

And a heart's not in play if it's 

always afraid to be broken.

Bitter pills

When bitter pills are dispensed by script
and the miners are all but totally stripped
When the questions are framed
in the form of a quote from
ancient game shows recited by rote.
I think you'll agree
that you know them, note for note.

With knowledge comes pain,
with perfection - distain. The calender
pages fall so frighteningly fast.
Through it all remains
the reminder of remedies past.

How can I answer your eyes?
When the lines decline to connect all your calls,
how do I answer?
Your lovely sad eyes weren't placed in their
sockets to stare at these walls.

The devil you know, is never to blame
he holds you closer and calls you that name
He offers you more, but it's more of the same
and just to facilitate the kill
You go to him whenever you will.

The postal ghosts travel their unusual rounds.
Delivering hope, as harsh as it sounds.

You can leave it behind or you can delay.

Dodge the bark and debris that hamper your way.
but the prison stands waiting to be condemned,
or so all the biographers say.




(please note: the word 'distain' is not misspelled. I originally meant 'disdain' but browsing a dictionary I found this homonym and thought it fit my meaning better. Spell check doesn't recognize distain though.)

heart behaving badly

I always know what's right and wrong before the fact;

To say or do where you're concerned and how to act

I always know to take it slow

from battles' loss and lessons' learning.

I have no business yelling fire

when I'm the only one who's burning. 
There's nothing to be mad about

so sadly, it's just my heart behaving badly

My lips know better than to touch your face.

My legs don't stand too close,

they leave a prudent space.

But the sum of my behavior 

is mostly greater than the parts

and sadly: it's just my heart behaving badly.  

I can make my hands stay at my side

I can keep my eyes from growing wide and staring.

I can hold my tongue and swallow my pride,
take it all in stride for just so long, if not so gladly: 

though I feel my heart behaving badly. 

Then I see my features will never fit the empty frame 
your desire names as love and holds so dear

It's not for me to fingerpoint or fix the blame

It only seems a crying shame when you're 
so near to me but, sadly - it's just my heart behaving badly.

It's a cautionary tale l have no right to tell.

There's no punishment more severe

than what's already self imposed.

if it's a crime then I'm the suspect 

and the victim here as well.

The file is shut, the case is closed.

No questions sought, no answers posed

because when nothing's said and never done
It will never be done so sadly - so sadly, it's just a heart,

my heart, behaving badly.






(comments?)

wait

Don't fall on a rainy day.

Huddled 'neath umbrellas 

you are far too close

to take in sight of landscape 

or the directions of street signs

Clouds obscure the details 

in the sky and water beads on glass 

distort the images that pass 

across your eyes.

On rainy eves no stars are there  

to guide and any portal might seem 

to hold what you are seeking.

Don't fall on rainy nights.

Wait until the sun comes out.

There is time. 

Wait until the streets have dried.

Take your time.

Wait until your step is steady

and the path is firm; until your eyes

are open and clear the atmosphere...

wait until the perfect season 

comes to call, 

or perhaps you will never fall 

at all.  
Perhaps you should never
fall.

upon seeing a friend's childhood photo.

Little cowgirl all gussied up 

and right for her first rodeo.

All of four foot two, or so.

Broomstick Sally must be hitched 

and grazing by the patio.

Always seems to be a hop-a-long trail 

or train engine with cow catcher

that awaits someone else's beck and call-

just 25 cents is'all, ya know.

But then there are those nights 

so cold could catch a death.

The air so thin, can't catch your breath,

and all that six gun fires  

I'm told, is blanks anyway.

So say "No, thanks anyway"

if that's what's in the offering.

Yes, the Brownie snapshots 

can all be cropp'd;

the fantasies all been photo shopp'd.

The outlaws who would rob you 

should be run out of town

for trying to steal your 

precious secrets away.

It's only a short ride we're taking

so please if it's believe 

that ever you'll be making,

make it last a little bit,

don't quit for just 

a little bit longer.

Let's be friends, little cowgirl, 

and we'll see what round up

next winter will bring.