the strummer violently strums,
a glassy stare, and makes it into a graceful nell.
vibrations in the air tell me what she is saying in silence.

gently, I devour
the music that you play

the strumming and the sway,
the things you can convey

subtle, but the power
of the songs, the silent way

you make the unsaid there
and it becomes

real, authentic, ours.

Ours is a happy family.

Hands wave at the gate
when we go out to work.

Sometimes after a quarrel,
I don't look back
momentarily angered.

Then as I turn out of sight
I feel deeply saddened.

I shouldn't have spoiled the happiness.

Those days seem longer
and back home
I see pain in her eyes.

We hug and talk and make up.

We often don't agree,
I'm often stubborn,
but sooner I think
I shouldn't have spoiled the happiness.

Oftener we forget and move ahead.

It's so easy when I blame myself.

I won't repeat
but by this time you know
what I think.

Ours is a happy family.

We argue and quarrel and fight
but soon when we are out of sight
the engulfing sadness
makes the day longer.

wounded blackbird on a telephone wire
in a bright and hollow sky
searched for the lost cord.
his heart has betrayed him
and no longer will he fly.

When you're cloaked in a pall of gloom
Life seems bland with colours gone
The little flower in her humble bloom
Will say she's there you aren't alone.

I drive the screwdriver through my own heart and
Stuff the open wound with my fist and
Swaddle myself in threadbare cloth and
Get to work,
Gathering up the pins to
Try and stitch my skin back together again.

Watching breakers
from below, forms
of foam frame shapes
of thunder clouds,
meeting mountains,
hold, hold this breath,
watch this entire wave
pass over, see, see

we can change
impressions placing

now and then in time.

and time becomes
this ocean, this living
planet's breath's

messaging medium,
telling us take this
thought, not fretting
failure to live under

all we may someday
think we drown in,
today,
time's universe…

not one limited
by how long we hold
a thought.