the Hawaiian shirt and the wake

smashed metal and wounded tree
drifting off to sleep
smoke flows from open holes
up to where we meet
she it was who filled your cup
that gave you heavy feet
with her smile you fell in love
a beautiful aesthete

lost in the euphoria
wrap your arms around her
you dare to risk the slightest kiss
and smile when she turns away
face flushed, you can't remember what to say
her voice shakes your confidence
working on your transience
in blood she toils her decadence
so much it makes you sick

you drive home alone
a lonley road to hold
it's not until you're at your lowest
when she finally calls you home

oh Morrigan, you love her so
what depths you go to fill your soul
your friends will toast you in the mourn
tears drowning the forlorn

kept

two souls converse
under the sparkling lights of the universe
strumming heart strings in flat chords
open e memories and sharp words

listening in disharmony
to a symphony of mysteries
like a drought takes the water to a lower level
she likes instruments of fine fettle

her words are a threatening smile
the kind that linger while lost in guile
one look at me and her mouth turns down
pulled under water until i drown

anywhere other than this metal for me
run for the relative safety of trees
if this is so precious it better not be
her love

waiting for time to begin again

love, like blood,
runs through mainstreams,
necessary cellular regimes.
if you have the inspiration
towers can be built
as an abbreviation
from one mind soul spirit to the next.
though the study is complex
one tiny number throws
the balance.
this, they say, is accidental,
to disagree, to hate
depending on how many days late.
the response to stimuli
as long as it is out of mind
another joke played on fate.

the heart, she still pumps
a rythmic red river of progress
just like a lightning strike
in perfect conditions
they said brought life
now vanquished

superstar lament

you seem so huge to me
walking along the orange grove trees
life like songs sung on ocean liners
and airplanes as they hit supersonic
a pampered soul to be sure
lonely, yet far from demure
no matter how larger than life
you still can't talk her down
from trains to barbed wire
stage lights mistaken for a crown
she might be high-fired china
wrapped in fine black blankets of night
mirrorlike snow drifts upon starlight
adrenaline fix when the race starts
enough to start another thousandhearts
you said, "Tiyuri to win, perfect dozen to place"
remembering the lines etched on her face
in movies we shy away from reality
I can't think of a place I'd rather be
other than green fields and castles
or front row to see
if it isn't you
we want more than this scenery
more than bravery
more than what you are willing
to sell for a magazine
even though she disappeared
life like words flood the sound
on the edge of the roadways
to see where you hang around
don't let anyone near
and know that when we fall asleep
you're still the last voice we hear

the breaks

falling snow eludes me though I know
at one point i could no longer see the grass grow
a scene as if from a memory
that same frore that runs her through

two feet on this earth
hands in pockets and coller up
anything to attempt to stay warm
as that girl will freeze your blood
until there is no where to go
like blue shores or lava flow
to escape the remaining cold

or, deciding that the mind is still trying
to claim that pleasure is induced by lying,
the fault may not lie in california
great shakes caused by giant mistakes

is there anything worse
than the ocean pulling
you further out no matter how
hard to try to swim
that feeling before you know that
the last breath you take will be
the sea

fabled

walking round the lake
waiting for the setting sun
going down in arizona
til the singing birds are done

you can take a trolley to see
roads i know from memory
hanging moss from old oak trees
from bike rides to wounded knees

i can barely remember my home town
and the houses down on stevens street
family I had never known
the boy they came out to meet

my heart still sits in Oxford square
next to Count No-Count's eternal stare
his sordid life and long affair
still float around in disrepair

lift my eyes and I behold
who I really am
the nail scared hand is mine to hold
saved by the blood of the lamb

the tomb

all we could ever want
is everything we can have
and if we were to have it all
it wouldn't be enough
so toil and toil away
through the wind and the rain
try to keep as high and numb
as your skin can take
please take and take away
in the end only bones remain
maybe ask yourself why the
vast dark unknown scares you
so much that only emptiness
keeps you going
oblivious so much that falling
in love with a gun , that dream
killing bullet, is the tonic for life
why is it we were made to suffer
beaches or a beutifual sky
alone with the stars at night
or someone to share our smiles
how long before we know that
what we should be scared of most
is us