I've made it past adolescence
Years and then beyond
Into a personal goal of mine
Far too old now to die young

Not one to admit that I'd ever go back
And relive it all again
No need to think twice, not on your life
Once around the block is plenty my friend

Would I want to change the mistakes I made
That made me out the man I am
No second thought to whether or not
I've earned every scar I have, good or bad

On the outside of me they're quite easy to see
It's the ones deep beneath I guard
Hang around long enough they'll eventually show up
Giving glimpses of life's old school yard

From beginning to end can't say that I've been
Always on my best behavior
But one thing I can say that I'll take to my grave
Along the way I can thank my Maker

From here I'll just stick with the chances I get
Until I'm met with the great beyond
And be thankful with the days I have left
Being too old now to die young

Saccharine and sanguine
the allure of a pink tummy
I reach out to rub and squish
but then I'm halted.
Daggers for hands,
I'll be bleeding again,
but the brief soft touch
may just be worth it.

THE SHADOW BORROWERS


don't know when
I had copped on
to the fact that

my shadow
had begun
to ressemble Shakespeare

as if the Bard
had reassembled
himself again

by means of
the molecules of
my shadow

"To be me or
not to be me?"
I soliloquised

said that he had "eh
...borrowed my shadow
rather than stolen it!"

admitted that this
'borrowing'
as it were

of the shadows
of the living
enabled him

to keep on
living
outside his words

and so pass through
the world
instead of being dead

which he said
was no fun
at all

confessed he
had only
a week to go

inhabiting
the shadow
of my reality

"What do I get
out of all this?"
I asked politely

"Oh you get to
have a go
at being me

you know
my wisdom
my witticisms!"

and indeed I
had noticed a certain
way with words  so

that in the end I was
sad to see him
go

but that Debussy chap
had now taken
his place

and suddenly I was
able to play his
'Jardins sous la pluie'

as good as
that Nikolai
Lugansky fella

‘nous n’irons
plus au bois’
I sang to myself

who next
what next
I wondered

Grey has become of the sky                     Blue has taken control of the sky
Bewitching the street lights below            Alluring the birds below

Empty sidewalks                                       Buzzing sidewalks            
Crowded clouds                                         One single lonely cloud
This must be a dream                                This must be a dream
I feel empty                                                 I feel complete
Absent                                                  ­        Present
Is this to be alive                                          Is this to be alive

I can not see the diamonds up above        I can see the diamonds up above
It is lonely here outside                               It is lovely here outside
This day felt dreary                                    This day felt joyful
The night feels numb                                 This night feels sympathetic
Unlike the crowded clouds                        Like the blue sky
Hollow is my mind                                    Fulfilled is my mind

Grey has become of the sky                      Blue has taken control of the sky
Bewitching my sunken eyes                      Alluring my hopeful eyes