Loving you is salt, just a pinch a waste and
too much will ruin the taste. Remedy this incurable sickness
in my heart with melody. Your teeth are milk and
lips are honey, beneath your smile is the almost fragrance
of a forbidden flower. I don't have the power to
recall your face because I have never forgotten. You alone
are the place where I find my senses. The mind
a prisoner and the heart is a stranger. Love, I
find a day is week while I yearn for your
return. Our passion more tender than a water lily petal
but few will ever truly feel it like you can.
Without anger our love is a fruit unripe and rotten,
and is the sweetest wine, that won't be forgotten, for
when I am with you I am intoxicated. Leave me
stumbling in a daze. I can't be sure if this
is the disease or the cure. I thought I knew
myself but love breaks all bonds. I feel if I've
been shot but it is only the half of me
now within you, and hurts when we are apart. If
the moon could be you I would love it too.

Your pace to fast for me
It feels like yesterday
No one else makes me feel

Quite the same as you do
Acting without a care
You were wearing that shirt

The Revolver album
Little girl in a bow
I always like George best

Like his lyrics and like you
Maybe it was the hair
Still smell the dust and dirt

And I was on three
Ten years ago in May
You were on a two wheel

Still hear the bike wheels hum
Friends and me just a guest
John, Paul, George and Ringo

Her heartbeat echoes from under our feet.
Eyes painted like forever changing skies.
Hair streaked the color of ripened wheat.
She draped canopies of colorful dyes,
emotions heavy like a crashing wave.
Her strong arms support us when we need aid.
Though we are her, she is ours to save.
She is a widow, a sister, a maid.
Soul glints with the anger of her black storm cloud.
Her dance follows the sway of the oak.
We must fight for her our blood and be proud.
Her mighty head crowned with a ring of smoke.

On a clear winter night
when everything feels right
the beautiful abyss
is, overwhelmed by a
kiss. Peace is an echo
of the mind, some promise,
a personal bind. The
snare of dreams and fortune
is caged in the sandman's
dune. Are we to complain
if we can't withstand the
pain? Life it isn't a romance
or fantasy. He just
explained nature and my
mind to me. I let him
submerge my lungs just yet.
With the air of mountains
one breath I hope to share.

Deadly pestilence came to distinguished Florence.
Spread east to west, roamed sickness without human cure.
Divine and human authority disappeared,
God’s wrath prohibited remedy and good health.

Families emptied, gentlemen fell to corpses.
Evil free to **** men indiscriminately,
Ignorant doctor’s advice left medicine like
filth. Day or night decomposing fortune is death.

Sick set aflame in neglecting infinite fire.
Disease black with misery, wicked affliction
with livid spots. Medicine removed anything.
Contact to dead or sick doomed a person sad death.

Every part always died. Abandoned all the laws
rightful behavior a fallen plight. Faithful shame.
Plague is a noble executor’s careless deeds.
A woman with no necessity of required

morals communicated upon death. Healthy,
beautiful, and attractive multitude consumed.
Avoid no very past pestilence in the fields.
The sick had made servants of the required dwellers.

I read somewhere recently
to release all my sorrows and anger
I must start by going within. Finding
that place where it all goes away.

My question to you is, is who are you
to say my worries can be
scrubbed away like dirt on a dish,
when they feel more like infections to

quarantine like a plague. When I
venture deep inside behind my
mental consciousness I find it crowded
like a busy city street.

I wander lost in the sounds and smells
surrounded by my illusions of
the human spirit. I fade into the
background of my mind.

I reach for a hand to help
me on my way, but I must climb the staircase
of self-doubt before I find my
own way out.

She was little, smart and brave. Barely five
her thoughts reflected an older woman.
My sister looking at me to survive,
Her silly smile asking me this question…

Whatcha  gonna do when the day turns blue?
When the sky fills with the many lonely tears,
You ask and beg then nobody comes through.
You're left soaked to the bone when no one hears.

The day becomes all time, slowly filling
with blue. Overwhelming and contagious.
You can’t stop it, but you are not trying.
That’s what you have to do, fly when wingless.

Not because you can, but because you must.
Fill the world with the light inside your soul.
This is what I told her, and I began
to tell her of how a mare loves her foal.

The honey smell of thunder clouds, the feel
of a dog’s soft wet tongue rinsing your cares
down the drain. Every wound can start to heal.
Of sitting by a fire in big armchairs.

These are feelings she has yet to know. Soon
she will touch the velvet of a lambs ear.
My wise butterfly leaving her cocoon.
Of all I wish for you, one thing is clear.

Never feel the blue, and think no one will
break through.  Because you will be forever
laughing in sun. At last your worries still.
I will always be there your one anchor