I sweat a puddle 'neath my chair
so hot unbearable
neath my chair
The cat holds up near the AC
wild-eyed and silent
waiting for me to move
because nothing else can in all this fire hot air
is he sweating too
all that fur gotta be pure ******
but he has the soul of a saint
and the heart of a lion
I hear the lesbian next door chanting
something at four-am
but the sound is muffled as it is sweet
I sweat a puddle 'neath my chair
been roasting alive for near ten days straight
and my head is swimming
eyes can't see straight
but the cat
he knows the game
he will wait till I move
cause nothing else can in this fire hot air

I lay in the shroud of shadows
while the steady rain soaks my bones
the liquid becomes my eyes
the sound becomes my soul

I lay on a bed of last falls leaves
they crumble at the touch
but give a sense of comfort from the hard ground
and cling to me like dreams and wishes unfulfilled

I lay under the scant cover of this ancient tree
and watch for signs of sunrise in the cloud-locked sky
and whisper invocations of some deity unnamed

I lay in a shroud of shadows
waiting to see
what cannot be seen
waiting to feel what I have never felt
take this misery from my eye

I barely write anymore
my heart cannot take the honesty
that my hands speak with the keyboard
after all who wants to know the truth
when the lie comforts in the darkness

I know that I lie to myself
tell myself it will "be alright"
but after sixty years it wears thin
but I will keep up appearances
keep up "the fight"
that I surrendered to thankfully
how can you fight for something that
you know is not real
No princess is going to rescue me
No bright future lay before me
right round the next bend
just a little further on
keep walking, keep moving forward

I know I lie to myself

I lay figuratively naked
washed ashore from a dark sea
alone in my room
alone with the thoughts that scare me
I twitch thru the movements of living
fits and starts
trying to not look too hard at what I do
lest I see the fruits of my labors
poisoned tree
poisoned mind

I lay figuratively naked
on the empty bed
starving slowly
crawling like a dog without moving
crying like a ***** as my visage melts away
I try to numb
but I am too alive to feel it
but I am too dead to deny it
sounds rudely awaken me
no rest for the wicked
no rest in a dark sea

I figuratively run fast as I can
not being able to breath
I figuratively speak to you
in rhythm without rhyme
I am figuratively still alive
in this dark sea

Wrapped in the warm
prison of the bedsheets
a cold foot sneaks past
and dangles in the air at the
end of the bed

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

I wrestle the blanket
for the sleep it maintains
all elbows and thumbs
****** this way and that
restless wanderers of designer sheets

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

As I grumble
look to the clock
Four AM glares back at me
a cold foot wiggles
a cold foot waggles
Ode to be a cold foot
sorrowful tale to be sure

I shiver like sailors of old
in this cold wind that blows
across my toes

The further away we may wander,
the closer to the heart our olden days become
the people who welcomed us
the places we danced
the music that still lingers in the air
with the love of a dream still shared...

The further away we may wander
we love each new adventure
never knowing where the road may lead
but we will always fondly look back
to the many homes our hearts have known
and wish upon wish to share our adventures
and roads with the people who celebrate our joy...

The further away we may wander,
we come to realize
places are meant to be left behind
but the smiles and loves we found there
will forever be part of who we are

beauty is a terrible force of nature,
terrible in its wrath for the heart that loves it,  
terrible in its burden to the heart that carries it,
terrible to the heart that beholds it and cannot embrace it...

beauty is adoration of all lovely thoughts and hopes,
beauty is adoration of all that is found and lost again in the heart,
beauty is adoration of the sweetest dreams that we wish we could never wake from...

Beauty speaks to you in a silent lust for what cannot ever be yours alone,
Beauty speaks of all the lives one could live in such a sweet natural place,
beauty speaks of how it can never be happy because so many fear it