I'm trapped in the rhythm of the sonnet
a partnership I chose all by myself
I found the bard's hat and chose to don it
but did not see his shackles on the shelf

of all the paths I've chosen and regretted
I feel this should be easiest to fix
by me this road is only lightly treaded
old mangy dog learning still older tricks

I care no more for forms which close my heart
I'd rather open up and set it free
this stricture doesn't merely stifle art
it's suffocating what's inside of me

even this couplet seems to have a cost
the corset is pulled tight and I am lost

I sprung out of this polka-dotted haze
rose up into a new exotic phase

a spring of fleurs erupted from my fount
forced
bulb March of mother May I's
forget-me-knotted hair
sashaying Miss American me
Ms. Primrose Promise
sprouting a court of daffodilian dandies
defrosting smiles of delight

tip-toe-Tiny-Tim Tambourine man
faerie of frivolity
waves his wand over
my zone 8

I bloom anew

I curse the midnight muse
her full bladder urgency

calling from the darkest darkness
quilling me willing me to write

Drinking wine by candle light
Small flame that might've
toasted music
Holding off instead
a flood of grief
Some wall I must retain
Some hope I still maintain
called life
...or was it love or...

one of those foolish things....

It's not important now
I am not known for caving-in
complaining
Not one for asking
nor for needing much
to hold my own...

I just need everything--

Boundless days of youth
forever slipping  
Only one dream yet remains

Wash over  
tender tide
The sea has found the breast
Seals it with its mouth
a hunger
lunging toward its home
of earth-warm woman
a deep surround

Longing there to cry
to take her back
to take it out on all
the taking

hurt of it
the bitter
and the knowing
loss of song

I can't recall

...The music that I cannot make
for lack of everything

I season my lies with grains of truth
which make the average story worth its salt
it touches me between the tongue and tooth
so every falsehood shines without a fault

what's true is slippery banana peel
your story flips the coin of one I tell
believing only one side shows what's real
buys you a ticket to a special layer of hell

so hold your facts lightly let them fly
watch their feathers turn from royal blue to gray
know you know nothing 'til the day you die
for truth is shaped from brittlest of clay

Truth is lighter than the tiniest of flea
its bitter bite jars us into harsh reality