here stood a pine tree
with broken parts,
abruptly removed
for the safety of all.
no time to say goodbye,
leaving only a headstone
of perfumed white stump
heaped with flowers of wood dust
and neighbors waving their branches
in funereal hymns of wind.
it loved to chat
with the other trees
and was a friend
to the neighborhood
it is missed
by the squirrels and the birds
and me.
rest in peace.

there's the freedom
and then there's the silence
i could probably reach out
and break the silence
but it's taboo to tell the truth
except when it came to you

if i tell her i'm on drugs
it'll be oh poor child
announcing it on every tv station
every corner of the world will know
her daughter is better than me
(even though she sleeps with a different
woman every night)
but i'm the one on drugs

and then you tell
your friend and she listens
and she listens
and she listens
until the words float around her head
and stop meaning
and she goes numb
hasn't slept in days
and the words have
lost their meaning
you've repeated the same story
so many times
she'll hear it again
but you lost the impact
and
she won't say
you poor child
it's not what you want to hear
it's what you need to hear
maybe not

the rest of them
the rest of them are gone
and there's that one in the red shirt
but she's talking about knees and bees
and i don't think she wants to talk about me
but i want to talk about me
i want to tell someone how i feel
how the freedom lasted a week
then the silence
then the silence

now the silence

and you used to listen
to my stories of blood and roses
and somewhere in between
the lick of insanity which took away
your pain
and the lick of insanity
that brought it back
you found me
a mouthful of insanity
in a world of the sane
and i took away your pain
to give it back
harder
faster
you made me scream
harder
faster
you made me scream
it hurt
you hurt
you really hurt
but you were the pain
that reminded me
why i lived because
the freedom
then the silence
the silence doesn't feel
it doesn't hurt
i haven't cried in a week
you know?
i haven't cried in a week
and it's probably the drugs
but i haven't cried in a week

oh wait
no, i did cry
they were doing this workshop
and they talked about being forced into giving head
and i cried
i cried
infront of the crowd i cried because
i remembered
and i remember
and it wasn't all bad
it was kinda fun
but you know
the greatest things hurt the most
and i didn't like it very much

maybe it's the drugs.

I will tell you these things about the sky
and of summer going into fall, of berries nearly gone
the mountain ash trees green, gold and changing.
The yellow waxwings that perch beneath
the heavy laden leaves, cool
amid an autumn storm.
Half the sky is impossibly grey
then further away, turning black charcoal
a place where thunder is born, booming.
The other half changes from pink, purple, blue
crashing its way into these luminous hills
meandering in sync with birds over the river
until the sun comes, igniting the clouds
on fire with red again.

poplar leaves
spin wind
into the music
of the woods.

running
to keep up with the sun
as it moves around
from room to room,
trying
to dip my sunflowers
in a golden spell
of life
to let them weave songs
of yellow and light
in a visual symphony
into the air
of the whole apartment
until the last ray
fades into the wall,
leaving behind
a basket of flowers.

Solitude,
The extension of my body,
Living at the end of my fingertips,
Eating me alive.

Solitude,
The friend I've had for years,
The only one to wipe my tears
As I die in my sleep.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude,
The one who never leaves,
Never disappears,
The one I'll always have
Here, with me.

Solitude,
In the darkest corners of my mind
I will always find you
loving me, caressing me.

Solitude,
Oh, Solitude...
My one and only


Solitude

A shooting star
my whole existence is
I used to believe that I am a new human
in your colourful life
a shooting star star
falling on the open field of hopes
of your dreams
I am falling now
with each and every  breath of yours
with every sun that rises
with every sun that dies
I am that shooting star
you believed in
but
I can't make your wish come true
I will just make myself true
even though
I don't shine in your Universe
even though
I am just the dying star
you have stepped on
on a lonely night
when the moon was shining
and the night on your heart
was covered with clouds.

I am the shooting star
falling
dreaming
of your eyes
of your smile.

In silence, I know
I am the only shooting star
with a destiny of its own.

A star who doesn't smile
nor falls
A star who just leaves
like the smoke of your cigarette
in the wind.

I am the shooting star star
you didn't see
the one who loves you
and you did not
believe.

On mornings like this, I have pressing things
on my mind - digging and weeding, uncovering things
I lay here thinking of that time last spring
wandering the green fields, or in the canyon lands
under a skyful of blue, and I can't seem to move
cannot rise from this bed, I play records
spinning round my head, I play records on repeat
the bittersweet of you and me.