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.

hang the jury

You could search me
but I’m thinking you won’t.
You could make all of this
go away, but I’m hoping you don’t
So, arrest me with your eyes
The case against me,
casually summarize.
witnesses that name me;
evidence to frame me
is strictly circumstantial.
Coincidences, mainly;
But I have my own alibis
and your insinuations
may not stick.
The jury has a price
so even if we go to trial
I’ll risk rolling the dice
The Judge and I are thick
as thick any thieves.
The bailiff has my back
and a dirty trick or two
up his own sleeves.
I’m not above taking down
a bird of my own feather.
Internal affairs can get complex
especially if the two suspects
are caught in this thing together.

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

Down to my last heartache

I’m up to nothing special
I’m up to my old tricks
I’m up too high and way too late
to be playing pick up sticks
If I can't get down to the old brass tacks
ought'a put myself to bed
but I’m down to my last heartache,
so I’ll go with that instead.

I’m in for the duration
and a little off my game
I’m pretty fair at solitaire
but it always ends the same.
It won’t be long till sunrise
at least that’s what they’re warning
but I’ll just feel my last heartache
in the cold grey light of morning.

I’m out to gather rose buds.
I’m into plants these days
Down to my last heartache
it was bound to pass this way
O, its easy come and easy go
no matter what I endeavor
but the heartaches linger on so long
and the last one lasts forever.

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

playing patience

please take me in
I’m no stranger to you
are the days gone by
too many  for counting?

The image I see
is a light in the whirlwind
and time has caught up now
and left me behind

if changes are real
and the past is a phantom
clairvoyance and memory
are one and the same 

are we both playing patience
from a fortune teller’s deck?
are the chances we’re dealt
like a noose round the neck?

Oh, love me or hate me
but  please don’t ignore me
my suitcase has been stranded
in your house for too long

Embrace me or kill me
you’ll see that its still me
who waits in your shadow
and sings you this song


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