Maybe its a dream
Maybe soon I'll wake.
I long to see the sun shine,
through my window pane.
I yearn for a sign
Something that will show me
That this hell is not my reality.
That there's a light in the distance of this dark cave.
That there's hope for those who are brave.
Draw me a map;
Show me a way.
A way to escape this horrific nightmare;
that I live through day after day.

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

I don't want to be in your bed sheets.
And I don't want you tangled up in mine,
I made my bed this morning.
I don't want you in my bed sheets,
Tangled up in them
Entwined
As if they were the vines of lust,
Binding you to the mirage of Us
The vines of love are coated with dust,
It's dangerous.
It's slippery.
Wet like the ocean as soon as you dip in me.
They say the ocean is deep and within it lie secrets...
Kiss me farewell and dive to the bottom of the seven seas just to keep it.
I don't want to go swimming in my bed sheets.
Then they'd be drenched from the high tides of expired desire
I don't want to wring out the deception that you perspire
I don't want to make my bed again.
My laundry is clean.

I see, beauty in the stars,
even found beauty in old fashioned cars.
Beautiful, is the first day of spring,
and it's beautiful when church choirs sing.

When a baby is born,
when it learns to walk,
when it grows up,
and finally learns how to talk.

There's a lot of things in life,
that are beautiful,
but nothing is more beautiful than her.

And where ever you go,
I want you to always know.
You're beautiful to me,
even if you can't see it.

And I'll always love you,
you don't have the slightest clue.
You mean the world to me,
and you can't even see it.

The passing strokes of my heart remain
on the canvas of the world.  
Waves of love watch
as it paints an ambitious mirage,
faintly touching the realms of comfort.

Where does the beginning of dreams blow?
to the west or the north
Today’s pain seeps upon the seconds
and I breathe a sigh
into the winds of happiness and warmth.

The small things, once again, float
into unlit frames
that looks into your eyes
and then the worlds.
While our spirits refrain from wishing lies
were not deliberately told.

Light swears it is hungry
and doesn’t know
it is flickering like a faithful poem,
pushing to speak out
about itself.
Traveling along with truth
that has been tossing stones.

Lyrics say I love you
and then cry to the back of guilt
because it stared at you in a sense of wonder
when they were wrote.
In an atmosphere
without meter or rhyme.

The taste of a glimpse of wings
leaves painted lips
dancing in the flames.  
Unbound memories are more than we know
when everything is fine
is only said in shame.

Faded photogragh
in a worn out frame
smiles back at me
from yesteryear,
when we were young
and oh so foolish
planning our retirements
at twenty two.
I swore we'd take a cruise
see parish in the fall

but then...


Alcohol and diesel fumes
screech of brakes
a scream.

White gown without a veil
bouquet in a cheap glass vase
and your mothers tears.

Faded eyes
in a worn out face
stare back at me
from somewhere nowhere...

Sleep now my love

dream now my love

and I will meet you in Paris

in the fall.