go on and sing your words, so sugary sweet
and i'll feel that rhythm in my feet
i'll want to dance the night away
if you tell me that you want me to stay
and i'll whisper softly, only the truth
take you back to our distant youth
and we will be free & fly like birds
promise you'll remember my words
because i won't always be here, in the now
you'll always find your way somehow
it's in the gentle words we speak
in the guiding hands we seek
the family we make, the friends we meet
the wealthy ones or beggars on the street
it's in the heart, this connection
that will lead us in the right direction
and find the life we're destined for
so always dream and hope for more
find the strength in how beautiful you are
and it won't matter if I'm near or far
don't let this life pass you by
spread your wings, it's time to fly
i'm already leaving this world behind
i'll always be yours and you will be mine
when you're lying in fields of clover
know that you'll find love over and over
in many forms, each one new
as long as you stay sweet and true
don't let the world make you sad
& find the good amongst the bad
find love in everyone you meet
and sing those song, so sugary sweet

he wore a story across his face
head bowed down, so out of place
scars always run deeper than we see
all he wanted was to feel free
from the looks, questioning eyes
but he's always ready with new lies
stories to spin because the truth is too dark
the way it aches and twists in his heart
a busted vase, mama's new flowers
the nightmares come in waking hours
the abuse was a truth too brutal to share
and in the end would anyone care
the boy that no one wanted, the "mistake"
he knew someday she'd finally break
in the house that was never a home
she lit a fire and left him alone
but he knew mama was never stable
the loving part of her, it was never able
to kiss boo-boo's or hold his hand
it wasn't for him to understand
and now he sits here, day after day
looking for a new reason to pray
hoping that someone will love him as is
because this choice, it was never his
the scars on his face are hard to bear
and he just longs for someone to be there
to love him, this sweet broken boy

you're not gonna bother to think
before you pour another drink
so go ahead and mix it up
until you feel like you're pretty enough
calm the thoughts that race through your mind
dancing around under lights that blind
looking for someone to hold you near
they'll whisper whatever you want to hear
determined the world will drive you insane
you can't stand to feel the pain
so here we go, you're gonna drink
bottles empty fast
trying to outrun the past
let go of the life that chains you down
baby you'll never leave this town
can't get one foot in front of the other
statistics, are you just another?
you have this plan every day
that you're not gonna let it slip away
that you'll fight whatever's worth fighting for
and you won't do this, drink anymore
and you feel like you're thinking clearer
until you look inside the mirror
feel the weights heavy like chains
and you know what will ease the pains
of life, of living
tired of giving
and it's so easy to fall
when you've lost it all
and the bottle knows your name

she was the woman he couldn't save
as he sits there beside her grave
and remembers how it used to be
when they were young, they were free
he just wanted her to have it all
he watched her slip, watched her fall
into a darkness he didn't understand
it was in the way she'd hold his hand
the way she'd cry herself to sleep
he didn't know the sadness was so deep
he'd buy her gifts, bring her flowers
stroke her hair, hold her for hours
promise her they'd have more time, maybe tomorrow
it wasn't him, he just couldn't see all the sorrow
he found fear in the freshness of cuts on her skin
and he wishes he could just say i love you again
he didn't see how she felt so alone
and now it's too late, she's already gone
pills by the bedside, too many to swallow
and he's never felt so empty, so hollow
a note wrote in shaky hand
begging him to try and understand
that this wasn't his fault, he wasn't too blame
a pain so dark and deep it didn't have a name
nothing caused this, the break in her mind
maybe happiness wasn't hers to find
but she wanted him to know
that wherever he should go
she'd always love him true
there wasn't anything that he could do
because he was already the best
in the life she had, it was such a mess
she didn't know how to make the pieces fit
the game was over, she had to quit
because the days seemed never-ending
it hurt too much to keep pretending
that she could be more than what she was
he finds comfort in this bottle, too much drinking
but it eases the pain so he's not thinking
and remembering
the woman he couldn't save

the world wasn't always so cold & black
won't you let me take you back
to a time where lightnin' bugs lit up the skies
and we'd play in the creek & make mud pies
baseball in back yards, homeruns past the fence
back in the day where life made more sense
and the biggest worry was your mama getting mad
you didn't know what it was like to really be sad
we'd make a bed, right there in the grass
didn't know the world was made of glass
back then things were so sure
and we were all so pure
so beautifully untainted
oh the life we had painted
we'd play without worry, without fear
laugh so loud the whole world could hear
find the joy in such simple things
playground tag, racing to the swings
and it was impossible for us to hush
always moving, always in a rush
too ready to just grow up
time couldn't pass fast enough
so now i tell my children to take it slow
because they still have a long way to go
but that time will pass before we know it
sometimes you can't go back but you can remember

Sleep deprived feel alive
Seen a live band saving others
The chosen one selected to be the DD
Up late work early finding balance
Over things bein imbalanced
Responsible always working
Making time to do it all
Waiting for the call hoping
Things change for the better

Which Is Greater?

I break a vow.
A serious vow.

In a place, in this site,
Where the fluid pain
Is the water of the world,
The element that is crux,
The amniotic liquor of creative flux,
The morning juice,
The afternoon caffe,
The first beer of the day,
The liquid that we rinse and spit out our every day,

I will write about pain,
Arrogantly, as if there is any unused combination of
Letters, vowels and consonants left unspoken, *****,
Having sworn not to, for pain is cumulative.

Asking myself,
Which is greater?

The pain of creation, inception, origination and birth,
The pain of  wreck and ruin, destruction and death.

Homework Self-Assignment: Compare and Contrast

Suddenly, I am expert.

Creating a poem a day is very painful.
A poem that is the sum of
Reflection, research, and purging.

Once I wrote:

The poem is the afterbirth,
A conflicts resolution, an outcome,
Battlefield debris, the residue of
An exacting vision, a sentiment surging,
And your army of words, inadequate to the task,
Fighting to capture that insight flashed,
Each word a soldier, disheveled,
Crying, let me live, let me be saved,
Let me make a poem,
Let it be inscribed upon my victorious flag.

The poem is the sweat left upon the brow,
Having exercised the five senses,
The salt of struggle and debate,
It's completion, each word,
Both a victory and a defeat.

Suddenly, I am  expert.

My mother is dying.
It is a process. Days pass,
She neither eats or drinks,
Yet she lives on.

I watch each labored exhalation,
A subtraction, a countdown,
It is as if she was returning each singular day,
Every word e're spoke, every dream dreamt,
she ever possessed to the atmosphere,
One breath at a time.

Is that painful?
It is for me.

Now you complain. They're different, not to be compared, et cetera.

Pain is pain,
Whether it is in the service of creation, or
Creative destruction.

Once I wrote:

With each passing poem,
I am lessened within, expurgated,
In a sense part of me, expunged,
Part of me, passing too,
Every poem's birth diminishes me.

So, one and the same?

Nope. Yes. But. Cannot one be the greater?
Yes, one is greater.
When I lay on my deathbed,
I will exhale the answer
Into the atmosphere
For your retrieval.

Late night coffee shop buzzed on caffeine,
in tune with the buzz of electric appliances,
acutely aware of the young child sound asleep
on the arm sleeve of the man's coat
wrapped around him in ways that
his mother's arms are not,
her arms holding papers
like a poker hand,
the intonation of her Spanish by phone
easily understood as a night at the office,
telemarketing, swaying the buyer,
as Mr. Sleepyhead, opens bright eyes
wobblyturns to me to
feel out the audience.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

636

The Way I read a Letter’s—this—
’Tis first—I lock the Door—
And push it with my fingers—next—
For transport it be sure—

And then I go the furthest off
To counteract a knock—
Then draw my little Letter forth
And slowly pick the lock—

Then—glancing narrow, at the Wall—
And narrow at the floor
For firm Conviction of a Mouse
Not exorcised before—

Peruse how infinite I am
To no one that You—know—
And sigh for lack of Heaven—but not
The Heaven God bestow—