When I look at you,
I remember my last Summer.
When I spend a day in Rome,
that day was so hot,
I was wearing stripes tee and Adidas cap,
Not a cute outfit, I admit.
Under the Sun, I walked by the crowd.
it was Fontana di Trevi
throw your dimes into the fountain, they said.
one dime, then you will go back to Italy.
two dimes, then you will find your true love.
Well, I've been always a fan of this superstitious thing,
Whenever I find a wishing well, or anything that will grant you a wish,
I'm on it.
So I turned my back to the fountain, and I threw two dimes behind my shoulder.
All at once.

And this Autumn, *I have you.

Ice* cold
Like my soul
     Growing older than old
  Melting away
         As the days get hotter
Why bother with the same things
      When everything changes
          And I can't escape the heat
   Of my heart as it finally feels
                   *Defeat

I've learned to let people go.
Because no one stays
and in the end everyone fades
you have to learn to let go.
And accept.
So I let them drift
out of my life
and I try not to scream
because I've built concrete walls
around myself
but I'm still wounded
from the times they damaged
my memories and threw them
into abyss of bitter agony.
But I'm an hourglass
with no sand and
my time is standing still
and I can't breathe
because my lungs
don't carry wind anymore.
And I've wasted too many pages,
too many words,
too many metaphors
to explain this emotion
It's so palpable that I feel it  
throbbing in my severed veins.
But I can't I can't I can't
fill this hollow inside me
and I've learned to breathe
with drowning lungs.
I've learned to be dead
with a beating heart.

A pink sunset
Dance of the  swans
In azure lake
The wind  is whispering
With trees
Nature is so full of beauty
Near me
A few herons

.

I remember that old electric guitar,
no name brand, a Fender knockoff,
stripped and painted
to look like an American flag
because Peter Fonda made it cool

That Silvertone amp, volume cranked
reverb, two inputs, tubes, bass, treble,
when Sears was the place where
music dreams came alive
because Dad had a credit card

Out in my parent’s garage,
Skippy on drums and John on bass
Wearing shades in the dark like John Kay
A tape recorder mike hanging from the ceiling
Playing “The Pusher” at all hours

Until the neighbors called my mom
and we had to shut the door
or turn it down, we shut the door
Black light posters, an old couch,
power saws and Christmas decorations

We were gonna be stars, rock stars
Chicks would dig us and guys would envy us
Our hair down to our shoulders
Incense to hide certain smells
Bad *** wasn’t even a term yet, but we were

Patch covered jeans, zig zag
and faded denim jackets,
peace signs and headbands,
Santana and Arlo, “Alice’s Restaurant”
Nothing could stop us

I remember that old electric guitar,
the guys are gone now, not dead, just gone
I can still hear Alvin Lee rocking “I’m coming home”
But somewhere along the line I got old (grew up)
when I wasn’t paying attention I guess

I still wear my hair a little long, a little
and I have nice collection of guitars
But that “Rock Star” dream faded long ago
Now I carry a different instrument,
I carry a pen...

and it’s a name brand pen