You are my lover,like a father--
But I will never be your wife
And I will never be your daughter.
I am the skeleton locked in the closet
While you sit together, Sunday brunch
With sweet smiles and shared laughs
Over sentiments I will never be part of.
Family man with a happy home,
Why are you unfulfilled?
Lay with her at night, but your
Thoughts are with me, and night-time
Dreams will bring our lust to your solemn bed.
You love her, I know, but
Where once floods of passion brought you
To embrace has turned into a slow and
Steady river, and visions flash in your mind
Of wandering between between soft, young
Thighs, where pleasure is welcomed
Longingly between smooth legs in
Black boots with stiletto heels.
One last moment of freedom, rebellion and
Youth before all has fleeted and chains are a condition
of old age, where feeble mind and feeble body
Receive no coy flattery or passing glance.
You are only a man, it's true;
and all men fall to the right woman.
A flash in the sky
One question, why?
A small bit of fear
The feeling that it's near
The mentioning of stranger things
A presence from above the radio sings
The dark night sky filled by lights
Are the sightings right
The things that roam inside my head
At night when the stop light is red
The white of his teeth flash,
As he bites fleas.
Dog star and innocent devourer. Happy to be alive and slightly concerned for the hell of it.
And he slumps down beside me to resume the battle.
Behind this little curtain, I hide.
I do not lie, but I do not tell the truth either.
I do not flash it in your face,
but I'm afraid you may know my
If this happens, everything will turn upside down
and I need to find a paper bag,
where I'll readily stuff my face in and hide under a rock
Until maybe all magically is forgotten.
I am ready to tell you the truth, however,
although my paper is transparent, a see-through glass,
piles of white lies may start to stain it and soon,
it will be so opaque you have to dig deep into there
To finally see the face that's hiding behind.
I am not desperate or a stalker,
or you know,
the one that sends you long text messages
and waits eagerly for a short reply.
Whenever I try to forget you,
you pop into my memory and tempt me into no bounds
of imagination. It's necessary I try not to follow,
but I always end up falling in the same hole.
So please understand, that if I suddenly reveal my identity,
do not be taken aback because this is what I have to do,
for you have caused me to be slightly obsessive and
longing for even a slight bit of communication between
us. The us that I dream of, the us that happened, what of it is left?
To start anew? This is rather painful. I don't want to forget, you see.
You were so lovely and sweet. How can I erase you from my memory?
People come and go, but you stay, longer than I thought you would.
This attachment is detrimental to my being. If any longer your existence influences me,
I will stop living in the present and reality and just dream on about non-existent parallels,
wasting so much time and feelings.
Okay. So this is why I'm being so secret there. You would only talk to me that way.
you wouldn't want to talk to me.
Thank you, dear, though, for that sweet little message.
The man in the hat always stares
The man in the hat is always there
The man in the hat holds the key
Under his hat, no one can see
Everyone is looking at me
The man in the hat is there
Can't you see?
Here in a pinch and gone in a flash
How long are these supposed to last?
Who knew it was this late?
I always lose track when I hallucinate.
Am I crazy or are you?
Keep staring, it's nothing new
But, have you seen the man in the hat?
No one ever sees the man in the hat
But, on my bedside he sat
Plain as day, clear as crystal
He sat there by my side
They say a sickness and I say a blessing
Someone there is all I've needed
And now the man in the hat is here
I am well now, my dear.
Nothing left to fear
My man in the hat is here.
The smell of whiskey was still on your breath,
I was scarcely an adult, eighteen
How could this world be so mean?
Our relationship had the taste of death.
I prayed to G-d this would end tonight,
Mostly likely in yet another fight
No place to stay or family to turn to,
You held the key to my existence here.
This is the haunting fact that I fear
And in your drunken rage you see right through
Me, this is the last time I will feel
The sting of your hand,
then a flash of steel
The end of your life but the start of mine.
The crimson blotch coming from your chest
Was my freedom, from that moment the rest
Would be mine to take, I knew I would be fine.
Quickly I hold my breath and walk away
For the last time, it was now your turn to decay
I stare mesmerized at the dancing flames
cavorting like cheap whores
now red, now blue,
twisting and turning lasciviously,
each striving for my attention.
Occasional sparks flash and fizz
as each flame tries to o'er leap the next
until, exhausted, they are sucked back
into the charcoal darkness,
turning deep crimson,
hissing and spitting
like a cornered cat and
sinking still further into the blackened remains
Until all that is left
are the dying embers.
Not the drip of freeway from Pittsburgh but a rough trundle
on chalk roads as flaxen skies shade to molten celluloid
and I can still see them
flash in August fields like a crop of traffic lights
they flare as hay-bale paparazzi or
floaters in the humour and hang
careless in unseasonable decadence
so I’ll pass from the frigid, processed air
and join them in their closeness.
No buzz but a minor hum coming from the
moment’s luminosity and then they’re gone
making good on thunder’s empty promise.
In the blink of an eye
everything I believed in
In a flash, my world
came crumbling down
I lost hope, trust,
peace of mind,
Worst of all,
I hope you're a fast learner
Cause I wont be around
to save you every time
you flash those big brown eyes
Im not like your last
I've never been good at.
making friends of lovers
I hope he's a fast learner too
I hope he pays attention
listens, pretends to care appropriately
I hope he adores you
for the latino princess you are
I hope his skin is dark enough
since that always
seemed to matter
for some reason
I hope he makes
a good dance partner,
likes your music
I hope he touches you
the way you like
finds your favorite spot
I hope he keeps you warm at night
even when he's not there
I hope you get wet
thinking of him too
I hope he reads your body,
your breathing, your movements
when you start to squirm
I hear its not a common skill
and you're pretty particular
in how you want things done
when making love
I hope he turns out to be
everything you think he is
I hope he doesn't break your heart
I may be angry at how things ended
but I'm not spiteful
I always wanted the best for you
Best wishes......my love