Within the sanctuary of a warm bed,
listening to the wind and rain outside,
I thought I could hear her voice,
faint and distant, soothing amidst the turmoil,
whispering to my soul,
atonement for the pain inside,
once upon an evening like this,
shall I hearken to her call,
joining her on the other side of the dark,
velvet shrouds of night,
reaching out and making me whole again.

Got a Hellhound on my trail
Devil Dogs locked on my scent
Hears the barkin and yowlin
Still runnin but my energy's spent

Got a monkey on my back
**** thing stranglin my soul
my skins crawlin, liver aching
self abuse done took its toll

bill collectors keep callin
dialin me up in real time
debt for ill spent life past due
bro won't spare a **** dime

ol sun did rise this mornin
Lord gave me one more day
to see the light, set things right
before he takes me away

sick and tired of sick and tired
can't play this tune no more
take one step to a brand new life
before I knock on heavens door

Music Selection:
Robert Johnson,
Hellhound on My Trail

NYC
3/19/05
jbm

180

As if some little Arctic flower
Upon the polar hem—
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer—
To firmaments of sun—
To strange, bright crowds of flowers—
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower
To Eden, wandered in—
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!

"Hi?"
"How are you?"*


... are the only words left between us.
... and maybe, these words were enough.

To dream of love is to find ones self
lifting pebbles in a field full of rocks
gazing through a mist of souls
searching through moonbeams
hiding in shadows that have never been cast
shining eyes through a blood red haze
drifting through these crystal days
gods that dream in the autumn light
slender arms on a  cold winters night
calm the rhythms of this eternal dance
as hearts take flight in a cerebral trance.