if you were here
would you see me the same as you see me in my words
would your lovely soft lips recite with such
feeling the words you say
if you were here at my side
the crisp sun reveals more than just
picturesque lake and the perfections of paradise
how would you see me if you were
as naked before me as i am to you now
i am crying inside a river of hurt that seems to have no end
how would you see me if you were here by my side
i would see you as beauties soft hand
come to ease and hand to hold
this river is a teasing of darkness
come to shadow my door
it will pass
will you still be here with you soft words
how would you see me
if you stood before me with none of the words to obscure

walkin slow in the heat an haze
our words got beyond our intents
she said i was a harlot of pen and page
living for that breathless moment
when reader extinguishes the last syllable of your passions flame
living for that deep in night romance only words on paper can explain
when the cool hand of your thought breaths life into cold furnace of her *****
for that brief moment when you and distant reader connect hearts
she left me standing under
florida highway underpass in a steady slow rain
reading the rumors of poems written in spraypaint
written in shades of dire loves
written with a destiny of fading
like ink on a rain soaked page

truths triage could not spare him as he was
trying to look angelic on a boatload of sinners
hes chained to his uttered story despite its flaws
he wrote it with the ink of despairs wisdom
despite knowing despair will lie to you as often as its dark brother fear
he carved his fate in the slippery wet stone of his pasts deeds
and theres no escaping the truth in that mirrors face
three am in a ***** motel room
the greasy light reveals the man within
unleashes the beast
and mourns all that could have been

(((thirty six dutch girls holding hands
walk in the shadows....
thirty six dutch girls
smooth to the makeup perfection on arrival
laughing and giving peck on the cheek hello's
the crowd into the booths at the back
a noisy forest of chatter and purses clutter
thirty six slender dutch girls
powdered and perfumed
come to build a romance of the mind
every single one of them dreams vividly of
real love and wanting something better than this emptiness
this is no way to live)))

bent tens ways to sunday but never really broken
he keeps on keeping on pounding flesh to footpath
hoping to escape reason with muttered excuses
hoping to beat the dawn keep the night alive for
just one more whimsical delight
he writes his fate indelible while lying to no-one
that its just a phase he's going through
****** his chained hands at the obscured waters
but once you start down the trail of tears
only the truth will set your sight free
four am in the motel parking lot
and the birds herald a coming dawn
this is no way to live