Every girl in the world oughtta be Daddy’s girl, but the world isn’t open to reason. Never left second best never fail any test, she should know Daddy loves her like Jesus. Rock’n’roll, rock-a-bye, rocky road gotta ride, rock of crack ‘cuz there’s no rock of ages. Hand to hold ages old, never led to…
you come back to me
in the scent of damp jeans,
with that other fragrance
I could never decide wasn’t perfume,
lingering for decades,
making my heart race.
I left on foot
for the last time,
drunken you in the arms of a friend,
– my gift –
out the side entrance,
down a drive
to a path
a caress, a soft simple touching in silence, calm gaze, cool and soothing as winter’s breath in a stifling room; a window’s opening on vistas of childhood. you gave me this holy feeling of fragility; heart fluttering lightly with echoes of infant voices and beams of summer light between leaves, laughter and certainty and a…
world in silhouette in a memory from a dreamscene of innocent days. eyes bright as moonlight on a pool dark as turning away. come apart now I love you evanescent and starshine and pain, and a drug you discovered that burns down your highway veins. was an innocent once surely but I can’t recall; what…
I’m taken by beautiful storms, hollow hearts and melodies. echoes down summer lanes in our childhood days, I’m the boy down the way. so strange how we hide. threw away the keys. jingle down summer lanes in our childhood days, sound carried in the breeze. yes I’m the boy down the way, lost in beautiful…
say here she come whisper, come take my arm. she like some sad sister never meaning harm. she play six-pack, a stereo, a daydream drum. she like hometown lowdown when she come. she like smile child, wild child, get me some; like a storm cloud, so proud, see her run… only clinging to innocence, like…
Does she even dream what I have done to face the ancient sorrows, loved to make my wholeness true? I live to calm the wind in you. I see the desert vista – broken steppes of inner history. I claimed to be, I came to see, I used to dream I wasn’t me, I used…
I know that she’s calling: outside possibility (in a dream scene where she squanders me). I’m ready to dissipate to save her grace. I’m ready to burn right out or fade away. Not worthy, take what I’m served and make the most. Not worthy, but haunted by a grateful ghost: a slaver from an ancient…
So, shattered innocent, who did you run to when the shadows came? Life’s nothing more than it seems when you live in a dream, but love you don’t know, you don’t, no. I’m more than a vagabond, true, but sometimes I don’t know what to do, and I wonder if I’m getting through. Calling you,…
I always start with a warning – “Won’t be here come morning, I am not the one You’re waiting for.” And if it’s my heart that keeps breaking, those million shards are the dreams I’m forsaking, it’s not so hard to be alone, ’cause I don’t have to say goodbye. No I’m not so strong,…
in a photograph
from back when we were We,
and It was you.
and it was me
who said goodbye yet
somehow never left,
’cause I still bask
in your remembered smile
and feel you in my chest.
the streetlights shine on speeding cars, and lost souls drifting to the bars to dance and drink their pain away, or mourn their faded yesterdays; of laughter in their families, of love and past security, of days before the turnaround that dashed their hopes into the ground. but who are we to stand in tears…
I had almost forsaken conversation (from fear of the things I might say, for fear that my attempts to bridge the gap might somehow widen the distance, or deepen the space between our eyes) but my longing was stronger than my fear, and the ache of my heart (at the hollow where voices once rang,…
I watch the smoke,
drifting up from my cigarette.
I blow rings,
which twist upon themselves and disperse,
curling away to nothing in the current of my breath.
I’m thinking of the parallels
that I could draw from this,
but the disappearing rings
and the smoke suffice.
I fill my tray with ashes,
go on and cast another spell, treat me like a dream to be dreamed, and tossed away to hell – thrown down like an adequate read. go on and throw another hook, reel me in like you don’t swallow any crazy, like it’ll all be alright, it’ll all be coming up daisies – like out…
There’s a bittersweet and lonely song
we used to sing in Babylon,
of how the pilgrim is a vagabond,
a runaway from love,
because the world is cold and cruel
and every lover is a fool
because there is no golden rule
and no forgiveness from above.