Soon, the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And maybe in your dreams discover
Words and lines to keep.

For the darkness is a tunnel
Straight to Heaven’s door,
There a thousand poets wait for you -
A thousand gone before,
Before their works were finished,
Before their jobs were through
Now creation of the masterpiece
Is solely up to you.

Hear their spirit, poet!
Listen very close.
You’ve been chosen as the protégé
But do not brag or boast
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like hell-fire, burns you up,
Leaves you thirsting for some water
And reaching for a cup,
That crumbles when you grab it.
While the water turns to dust,
But still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

Feel their breath, oh poet!
Cool upon your skin,
Though sweat and perspiration
Reveal the torment trapped within.
For the masterpiece consumes you,
Like a pen that’s out of ink,
Leaves you reaching for a pencil,
And needing time to think,
But both ends are erasers
Now your passion turned to lust
So still you keep on reaching, reaching,
You must, you must, you must.

For the darkness is a tunnel
A tunnel straight to Hell
There a thousand poets wait for you -
At a long abandoned well,
Before their works were finished,
The waters all ran dry
There will be no masterpiece
If all the poets die.

Shh, soon the masterpiece will come.
Shh, soon you’ll fall asleep,
And a thousand poets after you
Will search for words and lines to keep.
Phil Lindsey 6/9/15

Where the candles illuminate your face..
Where my dreams get the illumination just right..
I see you there for a moment for an eternity..
As my dream candles reflect in your eyes..
You light up my darkness with your luminescent soul..

Walls are the giants fingers.
Walking forward taking in air deep.
Let's make it coast to coast before we breathe our last and sleep.
To the afterlife we depart.
We float up to begin a new chapter albeit with a heavy heart.
Our timber framed bodies have been laid to rest.
Tear soaked rain beats against the faces of those we left behind.
Our souls encased by the loving arms of loved ones awaiting our arrival..
No more suffering.
No more pain.
Free spirits again.
Walls are the giants fingers lifting us up to other worlds.
We made it coast to coast.
Continuing to breathe deep.
Peace at last in the afterlife
Death be the cousin of sleep.

When you find her love her
Hold her real tight
Get her coffee in the morning
Keep her warm at night
The last thing that you ever want
Is to drive that girl away
So when you find her love her and
She will always stay.

Might take lots of lookin’
Good woman’s hard to find
Admit it man,
You and me, we ain’t no prize of any kind.
We’re rough around the edges
Ain’t got no smooth lines
So when you find her love her
And she will treat you fine.

Yeah, when you find her love her
Hold her real tight
Get her coffee in the morning
Keep her warm at night
The last thing that you ever want
Is to drive that girl away
So when you find her love her and
She will always stay.

See women they are wary
Far as menfolk are concerned
Seems somewhere in their lifetime
Most all of them’s been burned.
She’s gonna look right through you
Deep into your soul,
So when you find her love her
And she will make you whole.

Yeah, when you find her love her
Hold her real tight
Get her coffee in the morning
Keep her warm at night
The last thing that you ever want
Is to drive that girl away
So when you find her love her and
She will always stay.

She might have some baggage
Made a wrong turn or two
Better look into the rearview mirror
King of baggage might be you!
Then both you go and pack those bags
In the trunk of that used car
And read the map together
So you both know where you are.

Yeah, when you find her love her
Hold her real tight
Get her coffee in the morning
Keep her warm at night
The last thing that you ever want
Is to drive that girl away
So when you find her love her and
She will always stay.

Last thing that you ever want
Is to drive that girl away
So when you find her love her
And she will always stay.

Yeah drive away together
Bags packed and stored away
When you find her love her
And she will always stay.
Phil Lindsey 4/24/15

“Will you please leave the light on?”
Said the young Boy to his Dad.
“I’m kinda scared at night time, but
I hope that you’re not mad ‘cuz when
I am grown up big like you, I won’t be afraid no more
Then you can turn the light off and even shut the door.”

“It’s not the dark that scares me.”
Said the Father to his Son.
“It’s the early hours of morning
When the light has just begun
To creep in through the window,
Push the darkness from the room and
Sweep away the shadows like an
Illuminating broom.”

“So why’s the morning scare you, Dad?”
“I really like the day.  I get dressed and Mom makes breakfast,
I get to watch TV and play.
Sometimes we go out shopping and buy groceries and stuff,
She might buy me an ice cream cone – if I’m good enough.”

The Father laughed, sat on the bed, and held his small Son’s hand.
“I wish I could explain it, Son, in a way you’d understand.
At night the dark can hide the truth, I dream and make big plans.
Then morning brings reality to my castles built in sand.
While you and Mom have breakfast, I have to go to work.
I have RE-SPON-SI-BIL’-ITY and duties I can’t shirk.
People there DEPEND-ON-ME.  I don’t want to LET-THEM-DOWN.”
Dad suddenly stopped talking when he saw his young Boy frown.

“It sounds like you don’t like your work.”
“You should stay home with Mom and me!
Then you can help make breakfast, and it’ll be us three.
We’ll have a really good time - you won’t be afraid of day.
We’ll help Mom do the dishes, then we’ll go out and play.
Maybe you can pitch some ***** and I can learn to bat?
‘Cuz please don’t tell her, but you know - Mom isn’t good at that.
But she can go out shopping, and we’ll stay home alone,
And, DAD, if you are REALLY good, I’ll make YOU an ice cream cone!”

Dad leaned over, kissed his Son, and said, “I think I might.”
“You said some things that I forgot, and I think you got it right.
I know you and Mom DEPEND-ON-ME, and
I have RE-SPON-SI-BIL’-ITY
To help her make the breakfast and to help you learn to bat,
And maybe I’m afraid of day ‘cuz I’ve been forgetting that.
So tonight I’ll leave my light on
And I’ll leave your light on, too.
And tomorrow morning, when it’s light, I’ll stay home with you!
PwL 1990 to 2015

I've said goodbye at bus stops
In coffee shops, on planes.
In broken down hotel rooms
and in sudden summer rains.
I've said it without speaking
when I could not find the words.
In parking lots, at funerals
and to the song of birds.
When forced to without meaning it
I've even said it too,
but the hardest thing I'll ever do
is say goodbye to you.

I have read too many poems
From those of you who want to die.

I read the words, I hear your voice,
Yes, I hear your desperate cry,
I am torn and heart-sick at your plight;
Yet, I have to ask you why?
For when you close your eyes forever,
The hurt and pain won’t go away,
It crawls inside all those you love,
Where it kills them every day.

Were you jilted by a lover?
Are you an addict, beaten down?
Or is it that you don’t fit in
On the ‘right’ side of the town?
Does no one understand you?
Or “It doesn’t matter anyway”,
Because when you try to tell us,
We listen not to what you say?

No, I cannot feel the pain you bear
But I understand it’s real
Is there anything that I can do,
To try and help you heal?
Do you want someone to hold your hand?
Do you want a shoulder for your tears?
Do you want someone to scream at you?
Or hold you tight and calm your fears?

Do you need a teacher?  Or a coach?
Or a banker for your debt?
Do you want a job that’s interesting,
Or any job that you can get?
Do you want to make somebody proud?
Or find someone to share your life?
Or do you only want a yes-man
To hand you the pills, give you the knife?

You may say, “Shut up old man! –
Don’t want to listen to your ****.
You’ve always had it easy,
You always won, you never had to quit.
You don’t have a ******* clue.”
And you’re right I probably don’t
But if you keep it all inside,
No one will, and I sure won’t.

Please seek some help, I beg of you
You each have talents, and a heart
There’s a remedy or cure somewhere
For the pain that’s tearing you apart
I’m not a doctor, or a shrink
But I’ve seen suicide up close,
It hurts and devastates the ones
Who loved the victim most.
Phil Lindsey  6/8/15
                     **1-800-273-8255

You're not a Golden Boy,
And you never were meant to be.
You are a force of desperation,
Seeking salvation.
You live to be free.
That is the reason why
You may forever be bound
To the saviors of the Underground.

You were a bit of a child.
The world was having its way with you.
You tried to make a declaration,
A revelation,
Some celebration.
You tried some chemical shock.
As a dried leaf floats downstream,
It is steryl as an early angel.

You're just a Rolling Roy,
The drifting dust on a beam of sunlight.
You suffer from separation,
By invitation,
And so many things to see.
It is no wonder why
Your golden boy will not be found,
Except by those of the Underground.