Lay it down for my daddy in the middle of February.
My head on his chest while he sleeps.
Hearing his sweet soul beat into my ear,
Chanting to me in a foreign language.
All the sugar and roses in the world could never be as sweet as my daddy.
I struck a chord in his heartstrings,
And he felt it real good.
I smiled, he laughed, I couldn't help myself.

I got him up to dance with me in the winter air,
But found myself on the verge of tears when the song neared its middle,
And couldn't figure out why.
But I cried, I cried, I cried.

Lay it down for my daddy in the middle of February,
He knows me so well,
My god, he knows me.
He kisses my forehead,
And forgives me for the poison I have slipped him in between my words,
I'm sorry.
I hug his waist and rest my head once again.
I hear his breaths, long and slow,
While he slips back into his dreams,
And hopes I can't hurt his tender heart until he wakes.

Lay it down for my daddy  in the middle of February,
And hope we make it to March.

In absence,
A lost key is only
                   A catastrophe,
When the door is locked from the outside,
And everything important is within.

That is when we are reaquianted,
With an old concept.
One that can occur to anyone-
                              If they have the mind to lose the key.
It is the called,
                  The snowball effect.
When we are to leave without our prizes inside.
And all that is taken for granted,
Is kept beyond the width of a door.

But most of all, there is one,
Who will again take for granted his prizes,
And lose them along the way.

And although, these are not materialistic prizes,
They are prizes of greater worth than any
Kept behind that blasted door.

When these, his friends,
Give sacrifice, and he cares not to thank them.
When these, gifts to an undeserving man,
Are asked yet again, and these favors are not repaid.

This, is the snowball effect.
Something that can occur to anyone,
                    -if they have the mind to take their prizes for granted
Or ever have the idiocy to lose the key that unlocks them.
For locked out he may be,
This man has lucked out.

A bridge came tumbling down today
just as I made it to the other side.
There was no reason for me to look
back because the road was clear ahead.

In my God's world there are many paths
that are not straight for many reasons.
For He chose these roads for me to seek
out His glory in desperate times of need.

There are signs on the side of the road
that say turn to the left and to the right.
There are signs strategically placed with
a  911 number in case of an emergency.

There are many paths that God has made
for us that goes up and sometimes down.
Leading us through the storms of life with
a promise to see Him at the end of the road.

Blame it
on the
ley lines.
Or blame
it on this
city itself.

These bodies
can tan
10 months
out of
the year
without  the
mind ever
wondering
where the
winter went.

Give them
a little
rain and
watch them
seek refuge
in the shopping
malls where
they buy
designer
rain boots
and jackets.

Things they
know they'll
only use on
the oddest
of these grey
Los Angeles
winter days.

'In perfect corpse posture, he lies
supine, motionless,
on the broad sidewalk
hardly a space to practice a yoga pose.

The waterfall of evening sun
foaming on his face
in no way disturbs,
it would seem when one looks
through the car window.
When, such equanimity
of the yogi on the sidewalk
begins to puzzle
the discreet signboard,
leaning against the wall besides
the motionless man,
lets the cat out of the bag:
"Our bar is now open"