there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****** and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to ***** up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

In this fraying society, I wonder,
that if perhaps we were not so entangled
in the blur that is life, we would take more time
to think of others and our actions.

Society is far from idealistic, for it is stitched with
jealousy and greed, anger and lust —
haphazard emotions that we must live with.

But we cannot simply teach the meaning of 'emotion' —
how to read faces, tease sense from heart and eyes,
how to form a connection, how to empathise —
how to notice dissatisfaction jubilantly concealed
in the lines of a stranger's face,
or how to piece together goals drifting under
unraveling patience and lost sleep.

It is said that actions
speak louder than words,
but in truth, words
speak directly to actions — prompting us
to pray and reflect, coax sympathy from deepest hollow;
to think and read, to ask and respect;
to stitch together another's broken dream,
to tend to the fraying, and to dissolve
the screaming hum of everyday life
into a soft-spoken lilt, in which
calls for guidance are finally audible.

To those whose lover has slipped away, offer a heart;
a heart heavy with reverence and fabric to mend gaping tears —
and to those whose hope has worn dire and thin,
offer needled ambition so they can
thread themselves together once again.

Spin unity into thread
to weave together
our fraying society;
one that silently asks to be loved as they love,
one that asks to be remembered as they remember.

like two lovers entwined,
delicately the night straddles earth
and envelopes it in a warm embrace
it flaunts a huge scarlet moon
and twinkling stars

it is a night dedicated to love
one that begins now
as i turn off this computer
and walk away