If I were the words
that fall like crosses from your lips
I would flow from your lungs like holy water,
opening your mouth like double mahogany doors.

If I were the words
that fall like crosses from your lips
and float down on guardian wings from your tongue
I would carry no sound but still be comparable
to church bells.

If I were the words
that fall like crosses from your lips
I would have been glad
to have been nothing more
than a word from the bible of your speech.

Ah! My love dry up my tears!
No more i can drink solitude.
So painful what my bosoms bears!
Come! Your love is my food.

In my dreams
we stand together
bare footed
on the grass
of our rural Georgia home
or maybe
we are out west
born again pioneers
trekking on through
the California sunshine

In my dreams you would be happy
all because of me
and in my dreams
you would feel safe
and would call me
your better half
your rock
your one and only
with nothing but compliments
coming from your lips

In my dreams you would support me
and I you
and we would revel
in each other's success
and we would wake together
in the sober morning light
to the pretty sounds of birds
perfectly content
moving only forward

whatever I may conjure in my sleep
rest assured you are there

They tell us, in school,
to read all these books
by great minds;
H.G. Wells, Arthur C. Clarke, George Orwell, Ray Bradbury, Aldous Huxley;
but, at the same time,
they tell us,
even if subconsciously,
to ignore the grim implications
coming evermore true with each passing moment
of these Prophetic authors.

why is it that you only remember kissing?

or fumbling with plastic buttons in dim hallways, or folding his pants alongside your dresses
or laughing, or heading home to a bed you both could call yours.
why is it that the nights you spend crying in the next room- why does that fade?
you remain always dusty. god, all those days and months seperated by borders and waters you spent rationing these precious packages of recollection, closing your eyes and watching from a distance, as a younger, softer you rested her head on a pair of shoulders that were always there, a pair of shoulders that grew arms to hold you with, and a mouth to kiss you with, and fingers that would trace you and taste you and smudge you. now you know everything about love with nothing to show for it. now the safest place is nowhere near you.

you remember reaching out in the middle of the night, you remember why you quit smoking, you remember how he tasted, how he pulled you closer under the covers on cold sunday mornings. you would make room now when you would never make room before. now that it's too late, now that you are not fine. you remember kissing.

You would always guilt trip me
Into believing that you were honest
You would get mad
When I spoke of wanting a new love
And what for
All you did was leave me in the end
By telling me you never loved me
And could never love me
You strung me along
Not for days
Not for weeks
But for months and months
You tortured me
Day after day
You went back and forth
Leading me to believe in a false hope
I was stupid to think
That you loved me truly
I knew how you were with others
You would lie
You would cheat to get ahead
I played the fool
By assuming you would be different with me
I treated you like a queen
And you treated me like I was nothing
And now I am here alone
With a broken heart
Can’t even leave this bed
Crippled to the core
With thoughts of you in my head

Your paths shouldn’t lead astray

Heard it since childhood day
Heard it along all the way
What it means don’t know to this day.

It doesn’t show the way nor lifts the haze
Of a delusional journey the morality’s maze
Just a vague notion planted from the birth
Astray a wrong way is not a travel’s worth.

And that’s the dilemma all the trouble’s root
Astray the wrong way should not be one’s route
But each path has on offer its own unique view
Sublime obnoxious but stretched out for you.

Don’t I need to break shackles and explore
The way called astray what it has in store
How bad are its tracks uncouth unclean
If they are laden with only vices and sin.

Why not one day break out of shell
See if astray leads only to hell
Take chance of a choice to get away from the pain
Of the ways thought right but ashtray like vain.

What do you see, people, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me?
Do you see a grouchy old man, reading my book?
Lonely on the doorstep, drinking my beer.
Is that what you're thinking, is that what you see?
Then open your eyes; you're not looking at me.

I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still!

At 20 I have wings for feet and fly like a bird
At 30 my dreams of love,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At 50 I contemplate the future alone.
At 60 I think of the years, the loves I have known,
A life that passed me by.

What do you see when
I struggle on my zimmer frame
To buy my Bulmers ?
So you see a body broken,
A man of poor character.

Well let me tell you this,
Inside this lumbered body, lives a young mans heart,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the pleasure and the pain,
I think of the years all too few – gone too fast,
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people, open and see,
Not a sad old man, LOOK CLOSER, SEE ME
A man of memories and dreams,
A Life story to tell.