William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree ******
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking  
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Take the rag away from your face
Now ain't the time for your tears

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of the law has no top and no bottom
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears

Do you remember the day we bought our beers, packed our bags and made our own party on the hill beside our building? It was just you and me and the sun. We were celebrating the first warm day of spring, but you still insisted on stouts, and they quickly lost their cool in the sunlight but I didn't mind. I brought my camera and photographed the wind curling through that blue and green sundress you loved, and you danced as if you were a leaf in autumn.

Until you spilled your beer, to which I reacted only with regrettable anger. You stopped dancing.

That lead us inside, away from the sunlight, to end the memory. You never wore that sundress again, and didn't enjoy those stouts the same way. We never celebrated another change of season, and I never again photographed you in the wind.

How come 
you look older than me?
" By experience"

What is with twenty years?
They say life begins at twenty.
They say we should take things easily-
grow up gradually.

When I was three I wished to be seven,
When I was seven I wished to be thirteen,
When I was thirteen, I wished to be eighteen,
And now that I am, I wished to be twenty-one.

We all lived wishing, yet we never wished to live.
We live today, thinking about tomorrow,
regretting about yesterday.
We were unaware that we made the present nonexistent.

Some filled their stomachs with alcohol,
Some spent their lips with kisses,
Some lived their whole lives plowing,
Some wasted their lives harvesting.

But what if life ends at twenty?
Will everything change?
Or will everything merely adjust to its length?
Won't we be able to realize that we need to live?

My future, my benefit, my happiness,
We lived in worlds that revolve around ourselves,
We are the suns of our own galaxies,
The actors in our own spotlights.

It's hard to think of it, never knowing love,
just because we lived all our lives preparing,
or perhaps lived our lives spending.
Too much I's made us blind.

But I guess when the truth has been shown,
that the sands of our time is going scarce,
we realize that every grain counts,
and we start to immortalize ourselves.

We know that the eulogy won't be enough,
nor the stones that mark our graves,
nor the pictures in our albums.
We all know everyone leaves when the priest says amen.

But we start leaving stones in the hearts of people-
the fragments of our lives when we forget to live for ourselves.
Every bit of compassion, affection, thoughts and concern,
We immortalize ourselves in the hearts of men.

And so we are resurrected not as the tears they shed,
but as the smile they paint on their faces-

we are a life-changing memento,
with life growing in the path that we walk on.

And we shall know that this existence, though too short, is worth living for.

When I was in the thick of it,
struggling with that depression and all it's horrors,
if I was having a really bad day,
I would climb out my bedroom window
and put a blanket on my roof
and lie there until the sun went down.
It's my favorite part of the day.
It just makes you feel good,
seeing something so beautiful, you know?
That's how I feel when I look at you.
There's a million sunsets in your eyes
and everything feels okay when they meet mine.
You are my favorite part of the day.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

umber spilled from his lips
and shattered light from his fingertips
when the helium of blue giants has all gone, his solar system
crumbles with it
and he grows
he grows as much as he can, holds on as long as he can, but
everything falls apart.
you can see the remnant of his supernova in his face, in his hands, in his shaky breath and tremulous words
in the heart, still glowing brighter and hotter than any Ia star,
but that pulsar, his mind, keeps spinning and spinning
long after he's nothing but
dust.

free me from
lopsided dreams
dizzy and frantic
then
soft and floaty.
downside out
and
upside in.
and you,
always you,
creeping in
lingering
etched in my mind
and on my lips,
but bitter
like poison,
then honey stings.

please sing away the pain
in hushed memories
then erase it.

now
you will
burn
up in flames
and i will rise
from the ashes
with onyx wings
and soar
straight to the moon
and the stars
and the planets.
finally free.