He too saw the promise of a distant light,
but unlike him he renounced the gold hat,
and unlike her she would not renounce him.
His parties were simpler, but she was content
with what he could offer: a romantic
readiness, just like his; a gift for hope
for a life together; a capacity
for wonder at the promise of a dream.

Even now he remembered the sad things
that happened to them -- the deprivation
and the foul dust that floated in their wakes.
But through the smoke he peered into her eyes
and saw the light there, green as ever,
and knew they’d turn out all right at the end.

A pitiful wretch inhabits my brain;
In a boiling cauldron they writhe in pain.
When I perceive beauty or feel desire,
On impulse the cognizance feeds the fire.

The prisoner screams, they blister and burn;
They suffer and die, and then they return.
As long as I love, they'll never rest;
The hug of a child puts them to the test.

Nothing will comfort this inmate of life
But hunger and cold, aloneness and strife.
They'd pluck out my eyes, cut out my tongue,
And make me a bed out of thorns and dung.

Yet I’ve known those who were quite insane
Because no wretch lived in their brain.
I hope until the moment I die,
My head resounds with that sobering cry.

I may be just a partying sort of guy,
But that’s the sort of guy I wanna be.
I intend to go down laughing when I die.

I like the ladies, that I won’t deny.
I give them what they want, and they like me
Because I’m such a partying sort of guy.

I make love, sleep, wake up, and then get high.
My days and nights are filled with revelry.
I know I’ll go down laughing when I die.

I wear the finest clothing I can buy
And drive the fastest car you’ve ever seen
To prove I’m quite a partying sort of guy.

I never get depressed, I never cry,
But those who do have all my sympathy.
I’d rather go down laughing when I die.

So why are some committed to the lie
That life is hard? They must love misery.
Myself, I’ll be a partying sort of guy
Until I go down laughing, when I die.

You can see the moon
as well as I
from where you are.

Perhaps I can stretch my arm
up to the wandering crescent
and grasp it firmly
to swing myself
across the meager gulf.

I'll lightly drop
into the lap of your land,
before the moonlit vision
of your loveliness.

At once he feels the magnetic tug upon
His bones muscles nerves & fingertips.

Aflame she glows, her ice blue eyes ablaze
Amid the fire of her hair & lips.

Proximity mere bends space-time & light --
Captivated, into orbit he slips.

The snapshot of Now
folds in the middle:
me on one side,
kids on the other.

The snapshot of Then
split in the end --
me torn apart,
them with their mother.