the folded man
sat creasing the edges of his wallet sized heart
and stared off into the romantic night
full of lovers embracing
and others who silently wished for a hand to hold

he waited for her soft footsteps
but she just sat in her bedroom mirror brushing her hair
thinking of some boy from long ago
sundown was just that kind of girl
trade your temptations today for the empty promise of yesterday
she will stay here another season
maybe he will pass this way
maybe the storm clouds gathering will go away

the harlots all dance with unacquainted tenderness
not all embraces are done with joy
call it a sundown's choice cause its a bad one
and the gambler brushes dust off his neat appearances
each detail of his solitude lie must be cared for
lest it crumble and expose hes just a green kid
from illinois
we all put the best face we can
some just take it too far

she went to the picture show
and looked for familiar faces in the crowded hall
but the folded man had already slipped away
with one of the harlots
who will make a pretty bride someday
everybody gets a second chance
they just may not want it once they get it

she brushed the ashes from her clothes
they fell like thin snowfall on spring day
a last taste of winters hand
out of the burnt shell of the dancehall at dawn we came
the thick smoke splayed out on the thin wind
wound its way past catching the dust and
making the sunlight a dull brown
she looked at me with tears for eyes
asked me to take her from this place
everybody gets a second chance
they just may not want it once they get it

caught in a dark romance of shadows
she said she could taste a wilderness of tears
waiting just beyond the soft candlelight
and she just couldn't face it alone again
so held her thin hand clasped in mine
while her heart thundered like madness
and we spent the hours talking ever so quiet

we lay awake under the moving darkness
we lay entwined in reassurance
we lay skin to skin
like lovers do
i drifted in and out of restless dreams
of sailing ships testing the tempest
i dreamt of gypsy's dancing in the dark wood
these dreams were a tangle of a dark romances shadows
****** you to believe that path you tread
was meant to be

her smoke filled eyes
lent favor to the idea that somewhere
deep within there burned a flame
but her voice was cool like the first kiss of autumns wind
was deep as the craft of her thoughts could devise
for she sought to weave such a tale
as to sway the heart
and repeal this dark romance

the trees give way to large open space
with a road running its center
fields of wild grass and shrub border its sides
above the sky has forgotten the sun
under the swift grey silent river of storm clouds
it will rain any moment
the air is thick with its taste

a mass of small birds suddenly take to wing
moving as one swinging up into the treeline
the silence implied is full of birdsong
and the wood sounds
we walk hand in hand through the grass
to the cracked and **** strewn road
that has not see a soul in years
she stops to pick a wild rose
and we resume walking while she holds it with gentle care
like a kitten she is taking home to feed warm milk

thunder rolls off just to the east
we have crossed the road and plunge back into
wild grass and ****
passing the rusted skeletal frame of some car
engulfed by a small tree
i pitch a rock at the hood and with the rewarding metal retort
press on to the far side of the clearing
the large oaks looming in our path
seem like ancient sentinels guarding the gates to eden
we pause as we reach the treeline
i look back
i will never forget the beauty of this day
with my sweet lover
and this quiet peaceful place

the happier rabbit drenched in sweat
the language of his contorted face pulls at me
something approaching repentance in his fuzzy eyes
but trickster he plagiarizes puppy dog eyes to ****** his way free

the happier rabbit is a ***** of the profane tongue
and like a smooth jesus walking on the waters of verbal jive
he just walks your wallet like he's walking the dog
he's got nothing but fur but might as
well be wearing a brooks brothers three piece
and living bankers hours

the happier rabbit
making fast tracks for the dark woods
with the equivalent of a rolls royce and a roll 'o' dimes
living is easy in the forever summertime state
long as you got the endless supply of sheep
looking for greener pastures comin south for the winter
the happier rabbit lounges by the pool catchin a tan
sipping a long island ice tea
there may be something seriously wrong with us
but we are happy just the same

winter's monday horses
unfold in the simplicity of muscular ambition
gracefully these earthly creatures contemplate asphalt flowers
they are flawless in the playground of the surreal
tranquility crafted  from the rapture of angst
i am barefoot in my disbelief peering at their silken perfections
winter's monday horses with angelic skill
leave me addicted to the cosmos trapped in
the shred of their approaching eye
they gallop toward me like a flood of thunder
terrifying portrait timeless like a woman giving birth to a thought of love
let me depart now
on the grim sails chaotic and forlorn
under the skeleton of moonlight
grieve winter's monday horses no more
they are free passionate waterfall on the worlds dark surface
lament only the puppets of their deafening heartbeats
such as i
addicted to the cosmos in their weeping eyes

this hour brave face come forth
the nervous thunder of heart beating wildly
its grandeur thoughts race to
see all the possible and believe all the improbable
fear is a liar but what beautiful deceptions
lure you along with nothing more than whispered promise
teach you ways to live that chain you to cruel fates
wears the subtle masks of pretty things
for pain is an ugly beast
and fear wishes to ******

this hours brave face
etched on with fine china flatware blade
for the etiquette of tea and biscuit say
you must act with dignified indifference
polite and with manners
even as they cart you off to the rubber room
no madhouse is complete without its
dignified and refined madman of leasuire and class
have some tea old boy and mind the razors

this hours brave face may not leave me mad
but it feels like it could with its time passing so slow
i check the watch and glance at the door
for the fiftieth time in fifty minutes
this hours brave face is mine
and there is only brief span left to live
in this moment
but that moment is lifetimes
and....

she emerges from the door
with a cheesecake smiles and kisses me
everything is fine
i can breath again

in a setting sun
reflected with imperfections on the lake
she waits under the summer tree
its lively conversation with the wind
stirs shadows and returns lost memories to her
like wayward children asking for bread and a sip

her fathers stern voice on a cold night
her first kiss by moonlight at bible camp
her cat's purr
these things come back to her in a rush
but the stillness of her face undisturbed
her's is a setting sun
reflected by the lake with imperfections

night is a sour brother to day and sits heckling
her from the window
that she should endure the hour alone
that her time fallow ground
the seeds scattered without care
but her hand scatters to her sleeping poet
and rests reassured on his feverish brow

she draws his form in fine lines and shadows
a black and white reflection of imperfection sleeping
she lingers with her smile
and by moonrise she is curled up in his arms
both dreaming reflections of the days reality's
but dreams are imperfect messengers of meaning
and hers is stuttering images of yesterday

in a rising sun
perfectly perceived
her bare skin wakes him
with anticipations of lustful hungers
he sees only her perfections
sees only the bright beauty of her body and soul
that is his imperfection
we are all slaves to our sunset's
we are all hopeful children of our dawn's
they are both imperfect
but together they are perfectly imperfect

with mother of silence we're a playground for
the scars we spent and received with lovers now gone
regrets are heavy jagged stones
regrets are written like ******* meant to ******
regrets are loud awake and thousand miles tall  
wishes and hope are just whispers
intangible as wind

echoes of the hearts illusion
haunting situation
footsteps faint give glimpse of a vision of loves return
but thats a wicked crown that threads the pain needle
no witness sees your depths
tastes your darkness
a whiskey candy drunk on its sweet embrace
but clarity is a toy also
diamonds to one hand
dust to another

take back your wicked crown of pains needle
shatter the illusion mother of silence
understand my attempt
emptiness is a disease that rots the heart
lonely is a hunger that eats souls
wishes and hopes are just whispers
intangible as wind
but they are all i have

spanish rose lingers in the corner
with some french sailor who is
just a breathing caricature
illustrated in ink and animated by alcohol
his four letter word vocabulary with deluxe cardboard delivery
but its his eyes that capture you
swimming in hundred proof they are
wise with miles of years
and wicked in a smoky dark room way
but she is too busy to notice
flirting with the stranger across the room
a traveling salesman with boxes
of rusty trinkets for crafty sale

meanwhile old jack is swinging on the gibbet
talking away the hours with his old flame and friends
he is a threadbare imitation of me
and that suits you fine
long as its three meals and a slice of pie
the essentials of easy living wrapped up in a lace hanky
its a little ***** and on the down low
but the whole digging in some
rich kids ***** laundry for loose change
never appealed to you all that much
so attached to old jack come to make your stand
both barrels smoking hot and ready to let loose
should any fool step to the line

we all watched with amusements
as the magician open his show with a shock and awe
that sputtered and fell
but we all loved his punch lines so much that we
cheered him on all night
the chorus girls got us all up and dancing little past three
and the suave singer had us cheek to cheek by dawn
it was another night to remember to be sure
memorable as stumpy swimming with the gators
we all shuffle barefoot in the sand
to our dusty beds
and dream sweetly of fiveash romance novella endings
and the beauties of dawn
we will be up to no good once more
all loud and proud
young and full'a *****
as a spring moon crests over seaside town

the daydream electric
she glows in daylight
like neon ice cream
**** on the tongue
like wry smiles
but creamy smooth on the fingertips
like a peanut butter chocolate chip pie
lick her eyelids to try and see
whats on her pretty little mind
shes a butternut job
and fingerlicking fun

so i took liberty's with my lockpick and freud's diary
and went in search of the reasons for dry thunder
and for pictures of the rain locked away in some peoples eyes
some hearts are waterlogged silent forests
grey clinging to the wet pine needles
some are deserts of the twilight
like dust gathering at the least disturbed path
their hearts are heavy with dry weight

i found her in the cold light of candles
mapping the unknown with her thin hand
her perfections chiseled softly into all of my senses
like a michelangelo paint by number sweet summer dream
her immediate and urgent presence on the night air
makes me breath in deep and feel to the bottom of my feet
that she is tenderness personified
she is light perfected
she is fresh off the pages of some steinbeck novella
she just has a grace that gives
she is in love with its concept and rumor

with lockpick in hand and the image of
old man freud smoking something funny in his pipe
traveled through this place with an eye to the depths
a girl out there provides a sultry version of hopes in a song
from within her place of televisions flickers
as i sit by the window shade as it stirs to life
approaching rain
the lockpick also comes to life
as the complexity's of a strangers smile
fluctuate in the eye
a grain of sand lodged in the crawlspaces of the mind
grinding in the gears of thought
the song drifts to an end
with her smile

i met a man upon the road
who carried his mind in a thicket of thorns
bluejays nesting in his thoughts had built it
one thorny troubled thought at a time
untill he staggered as he walked from the weight
of this contraption of the mind
like a drunkard in the backstreets of seaside town
he would sit by the small cafe or coffee house
and sing for young lovers such songs as ballads of old
or ones from folk singers and childhoods fancy
bright songs of good cheer

at the end of the long summer day
as the cafe and coffee shop would shutter their doors
he would gather his coin
and bid the day fare thee well
would climb slowly the flower strewn hill
sit under the great oak tree
and prune his thicket of a mind
with pinking shears and a hacksaw
with a farmer's plow and the beekeepers glove

a thousand fold bluebirds moving as one
with a terrible sound of wings upon the air
a soft beating of wings like a hearts dry thunder
each carrying a twig to add to his thorny thicket
which was now larger than the man himself
he would wrestle with it all the long night
till sleep overtook him there under the great oak tree

so he lingered here by the sea for years
at the whims of romance by lovers in the coffee house by daylight
and the light of the moon that lead him to dance
in a maiden hayfield at night
he would sing ballads to the star light
and to the wisps of clouds flying the night sky

they buried him with his thicket of thorns
at the top of the hill
below the stars that weep even now
he asked me why once
why none helped him be free of his thicket of thorns
why not one took pity and took his hand to at least comfort
and i told him that the world had
in bluebirds that kept him company
in coffee houses that loved his songs
in me that came to know him at long last
not as a man with a thicket of thorns
but as an empire of bluebirds playing in the skies
just at dawns first light

the rain is thick
and bright in the minds eye
captures the wandering and
turns skyward all thought of walking
seek shelter under tree
but its stirs the leaves and
resides on your skin in a
damp codependent relationship with you
up close and personal

the rain pours through the phone line
making her damp voice warm with invitations
and layered with the hearts silts
each woman ever loved has left her trail upon the heartland
each trail become a river of regrets and wishes on her leaving
each leaving having dried like tears with time becomes a layer of silt
that the hearts home is built with
the sum of the hearts who have come
and gone

the rain slows
as the phone line falls to a stillness
a lack of words between two who know far too many words
none of thouse words can change the color of a sunset
none can unfly a flown bird
we make small talk till even that slowly fades
we say goodbye
the rain begins in earnest

i love that sound
a wind walks by and stirs the trees
that rushing breathing sound
the leaves make as the branches are swayed in the wind
i love the many voices of daylight
a lawnmower and childrens laughter
birds chattering
a small plane boiling overhead
pulling a sign for some event
i love the sound of summer

i love its taste
ice cold soda when your sitting on hot pavement
the texture of a overcooked hotdog at a ballpark
i love the taste of
your lips while you are sunbathing
sweat and sunscreen are an ****** mix
i love how summer tastes to my mind
it feels young
it tastes free

i reach up with incredible grace
****** the contrail from that jetliner far overhead
and tie it into a ribbon for your hair
there you go my lovely
you are a young french princess of the world
i love your taste most of all
you taste like love to me

the day moves around me
coming to its close
anticipation of night on the tip of tongue
its dark mystery
its deep magics
you know nights true name
speak it now my sweet lover
speak it soft and swift
let us run together in nights sweet dark embrace

i see it coming
pierced the horizon with its dark threads
as it knits the fabric of stars from birds drifting in sky
filling the world with its soft aspects like a dream
the moon riding clouds that run untamed across open sky
watch them fly untainted by earthbound mortality's
watch the world unfold one grand moment
unscripted by foolish men's deeds

you know nights rightful name
summon the night
you know nights true name
speak it now my love
speak it swift and soft
like you are laying a kiss on its beloved countenance
let us run together in nights sweet dark embrace
for few love the night as we do
few see its grandeur
few know its everlasting deep loves
know its forgiving compassion's
you know nights true name
speak it now my love
speak it swift and soft

i walked in the wilderness
i walked alone
there were signs and portents
but they were shallow imperfections on reality's page
they were ink stains afterthought to a great symphony
a dust devil in backwater forever forgotten road
and as i walked i heard it spin past
i saw its track on the cracked pavement
but did not slow my steps
after all i knew not a single face ever born of dusts fire

she came upon me in the wilderness
she stopped me in my walking with a gesture
that was complex in its simplicity
that was rich in its lack of words
she asked me to think upon the need
i asked her with a single tear frozen in time
heated by the hearts sun

she painted a masterpiece there on
the sunbaked road
she used the world as her canvas
she used the color of her words as her paints
and what she showed me
beckoned me further in thought
drew the mind to look upon its on mechanics
and with her hand she made doves in the air
with her hand she made soft trees upon which they could live

i walked once in a wilderness
i once walked alone
in an unseeing way
striding forth to an unseen future
till she had come upon me
and gave my words wings
and gave my mind a key
that turned in the wilderness
and released me

she made me a brown turtle dove
living in a paradise of roses
by the side of a road through a wilderness
that has no beginning
no end
she said no need to walk the road
now that you can fly
gave my mind a key
released me

in the evening tide
a remark of the world washed ashore
written with the driftwood's obscure tongue
its twisted words spun round itself
polished and worn to resemble the bones
of the world itself which birthed it
it spoke of a mystical place over the far salty seas horizon
spoke soft of a place where wilderness lived
and freedom thrived in a sheltered place
it spoke to me that it had crossed oceans of time
to lead me on adventures tale
to reclaim this mystical throne
to live in this far off grand palace of trees and glens
a magical place where my cares would not follow
where i could carve my own fate
from the rough sea
where a lover waited for me
wrapped in silks mystery's
so i set out swift as sunrise
set out following destiny

if she submits just so
if she contorts to the worlds twisted vision
her breathing becomes quick
and her hands silhouettes
mimicry of ritualistic love

if she submits just so
the world will see
and snow will fall warm as summers day
quick will be slow
hurt will be healed
and the difficult will be easy
as easy as his smile back when he loved her
and things will be the way they were
before

her thin fingers
on the window panes frost
etch panoramas fine line drawings of loves triumphs
a garden where hope blooms
where beauty and happiness are one in the same
in the smile he shared with her back before
before...

washed and trimmed to measurable perfections
she kneels in the strange halflight of the worlds eye
and waits for the settling dust to speak
for the haze on the window to illustrate
for the clocks silent mechanical action to cease
waits for the world to change her

her breathing quick and measured as she leans with perceptions
to any sound of approaching footfall
but the only sound that pierced the thick darkness
was that of the worlds slow decay
if she could only
but hes been gone for so long
that smile
his sweet smile while he loved her

if she contorts to the worlds twisted vision
if she submits just so
the world will see
shes a good girl
and snow will fall warm as summers day
it will be as it was before
before
he will come back
and snow will fall warm as summers day

her pale skin is moonlight breathing
like she has an essence of celestial beauty in
the palm of her hand and
without her the sun will never rise
without her the stars themselves utterly die
like the air itself around her flowing like soft waters
gently drowning all sorrows

she held within her delicate fingers a small canister
'within this is my heart'
made of wood laced with silver threads
it was worn but still retained its strength
it had an illustration of a phoenix
she buried it in the soft soils of her skin
with four nails to keep it in place
each nail carved with fine line drawings from the astral calendar
i ran a volley of kisses quick and soft on her pale skin
hoping to set ablaze
but she passed silent while lingering one hand along my arm
like a grief for our parting

i swim up her presence radiating with careful steps
and i run one finger lovingly along her bottom lip
but cannot contain the river of images that flow there
she photographs my hearts intent with eyes that see my soul
makes still life studies of loves blooming with her gentle wet kiss
and with her soft lip sets smouldering thoughts in my lustful soul

i am the canister she has woven with silver threads
i am the phoenix arising from the ashes
after she has destroyed me with a kiss
i hold her heart gently
for without her
i am a moonless void
empty of stars
i run one finger lovingly along her lower lip
adoring the very scent of her soul on the air
like moonlight breathing

she delicately wove a tale
for the echoes in the churchyard
because the sounds that words of love make
as they flutter on the cold grey stones
make such a lovely loneliness
the heart bleeds its tears openly
but the mind keeps its tears close at hand

but she assured me that she was aware
of how deep the water could run
as she waded into the hearts river
her great blue coat caught like in a vast wind
did trail behind and marked her passing
with a stain upon the waters like words of love on a dark heart
she beckoned with her hand without meaning to mock
i dragged the grey stone to the verge
and let my words fall
but they had a silence i could not comprehend

she had come to heal
she had come to see reason
or declare the innocence of its opposite
she weaved the echoes well into the stillness of the night
i had come to see her in the image of bearing beauties
come to see the true key of tales end turned
but she has no end to the tale
she simply beckons you on with simple gesture
because she adores the dance of her spanish boots
on the cold grey stone
and the words of love as they flutter
on the cold grey stone

she picked at the
guitar strings without much heart
and as the long night wearied into dawn
her song changed
the confines of this run down mill of the mind
had worn her down
watch now as daylights child spoon-fed
the nights dream now wakes crying for lack

daylights child growin fast
listen now as her fingers stumble in the sweet song
hear the notes changing like spring changes winters face
know that she must feel it deep
she was always a tough girl
and would never shown tears like this
lest it was going deep as deep can be
deep as the sea

listen now to her song
just her weeping to her her guitar
in this run down broken old mill
this factory of forlorn
the child of daylight now grown
flexed muscles for some some strange woman of evening
took his wallet an' took his boatman coat
washed poorboy out to sea
listen now to her motherhood song
weeping for foolish boy gone astray
weepin' for poorboy lost at sea

mind your mothers now lad's
watch them strange girls of the setting sun
set your lines and watch your jibing
sail good lad sail on home
set your lines watch your jibing
sail on home good lad's

a hurricane was treading on the world around us
sounded like it was gonna come apart at the seams
but all i could see or hear was you
as you held my hand laughing at the silly world
as you captured me and
held with tender embrace
your more than some mere force of nature

to look at you seem just like a girl
but iv climbed into the furnace of your heart
iv lost myself on the milk white sea of your warm gaze
iv wandered the echo of an endless summer night in your voice
your all the lost days found once more
your all the hopes
wrapped up in a tender kiss
more than some mere force of nature
you are natural to my heart

let your hair down my lover
breath easy tonight
as the sea rolls out the moonshine just for you
let your twilight eyes close to dream
cause ill have you safe here in my heart and arms
cause i know at long last that i'm home
with a woman who is more than a mere force of nature
you are natural in my heart like you always belonged there
my sweet lover

her scarred lip held a song
it was a hard song
moving like a candle on the dusty road
restless in the bitter wind
feel it in your dry mouth like the taste of snakes
feel it like a misery of the dry sand

but its her song and she sings it to me now
as she gathers the weeds and small bitter things
that will be our penance as a meal
i cast out a whip and its thorny threads
and it catches her eye
looking into me
the sea tilts
and capsizes the rowboat carrying her song to me

my hair is a dreadlock at the root
my hair ends in a fray
which end would you choose
i told her the fray
because the devil rides the dread
like a wild horse its eyes aflame
she holds my hand and will not speak
i kiss her hair
and wait for the sun to save us

and the candle burns brightly on the dusty road
the devil bears the burden of our wares
in exchange we carry his brother
she cradles this child of our fate
it tangles its tiny fist in her dreadlocked hair
and i saw that the fray was mine alone
so i tangled it in my lips
for my own song
a soft one of lovers

a thirsty soul suspended over the
waters of this heartland like some kind of
symbolic sacrifice to the lesser demigods
she is wearing a hippy skirt and a fashionable hat
a swift sunrise gives her aspects of divinity

she tells me she came here to go shopping
but in the turbulent space between our hearts
something has changed
she tells me cloudy days make her sad
i tell her rain is a companion to no man
but the flowers love it just the same
she knows she loves it too

i pick up her thought and bounce it like a rubber ball
cause it keeps comin back to me'
just like that mysterious smile that
lingered on her face
long on my mind
i cant seem to shed the thought
that it all means something someplace
always somebody thirsty somewhere

the clock stopped at a quarter to four
and a shameful woman sits there fixing her face
with the wrenches and hammers of fashionable practice
seek to be the same as everybody else
someday your bound to get there
just to find yourself questioning why you
bothered once your there

her and the shameful woman put a
heated argument in the pocket of hunger
and giggling like schoolgirls walk away
to go find a mirror to get lost in
swap makeup and spit in some bathroom selfies
girls night out

i'm standing out here in the open air parking lot
watching the heartland of fiveashes sink slowly into the sea
walk on the puddles reflections of clouds
as they break apart to bring us a brand new day
rain is a companion to no man
but the flowers like it anyway

had no quarrel with the sun
have no bitter bread leavened at the worlds hearth
no trail of blood and bone
no stone flung at heavens hoping to dislodge
for whispered prayer's unanswered

sitting on the high contraption
while the last rays of parting sunlight wane
balanced on the winds whim along thin wire
of my own circumstances making

i seek within myself once again
pour over memories careworn with years
find solace in the cold comforts
of warm embraces engraved in the heart
that i have known such things
that such matters to me as some it dose not
is comfort after all
that i have been loved
and am able to love
there is hope yet

i have no quarrel's with sun or moon
dark is lights difficult lover
they bicker over the dawn
and surrender to eachother as dusk settles
find solace where you may
i seek the sun

i sit on a cold beach
looking at the night sky waiting for thouse
telltale first fingers of dawn to start playing with my eyes
think bout tall the things iv had and lost
trunk full of laughs and crates of tears
bothersome pieces of paper long since lost ability to cast their spells
and i wait for the image to come to mind
of the road i should take to relive my heart
of all its baggage of this woman and her lace curtains

a sand crab walks by me with such a light step
barley disturbs a grain of the world's sand
but you'll know he was here
thats a face you'll never forget
he waves goodbye and slips beneath the water
where a thousand years float like pop cans
the sea remembers what he's forgotten

i think ill go work on a fishing boat
cast my reel for something real
a priest of the pocket
ill make donations to the great beyond
one bone song at a time
let me just shine up this harmonica and ill join you in a tune
we can sing all night by the light of a bonfire
and the college girls can sit in our midst
cause they know that its ok to be yourself
even if you still learning who you are
******* the difference between dark and light is too exhausting
so just let one them sing you to sleep
and remember
we are all sand ***** in the scheme of things

her innocent eyes asked
as the sun peeked out from the rain
and said hello to us in our joys
and i took her hand looked deep into her eye
with a love that spoke for me
her smile appears and i know that she understood
like i knew she would

a country girl
in cotton blues jeans
shes got a heart full of summer skies
she got a soul of pure magic
her heart is a warm tender place like a mountain stream
sustain you in your hour
nourish your soul and heart to keep
take her walking on the mountain side
take her to that shady tree
take the long day in her arms
the way it should be

after the day done
my country girl sat in my pickup and talked all night
bout all the things we gonna do
all the far away places we'd visit
but for now i'll want for nothin long as i got her
so i'm gonna take her to the shady tree
and give her some love
way it should be

like a fool i rushed in
now i sit in the halflight and ponder
watch the crow carve a michelangelo in the sands of time
wishing it could have been me
keep washing away my days with tears
but its left me dry
like the desert between her heart and eyes
her practiced hand extracts me from the conversation
but i can still hear every word spoken
but i still cant decipher the smile on his face
i flee this woman and her complex locks for a heart
to wander into the rain  hoping the cure for her is rust

i sit here in a concrete flower bed
with life thriving inches from my thirsty heart
the sun is a hurricane blowin its light all over the worlds face
except this streetlight corner where i'm parked
in a shopping cart with a handful of handmade candles
and an ocean of tears for the nobody thats there by my side
a picture of some actress to fill the void
her pretend joys bring such dim return
but i still dream that i'm dancing in the sand
neath the fiery furnace of romances moon
english rose poised for her picture
with such sadness

i frustrated rushed forward across the beaten earth
to the edge of the stage hoping to get to see up
close and personal some man playing precision notes
on a beautiful wind
his song a sweet reprise of yesterdays loving heart
and all the shared smiles and hopeful joys
his dancing thought soars and swings like plastic on the wind
but fools like me caught in the imitation seats of oak can only watch with slack jawed wonders in our hearts
garcia where did you go my brother
you never said goodbye

there will be no easy solutions to my delemia
i must find someone who can hold the hand of a fleeing man
some sweet girl who wants do slow dance
in tonight's spring full moon like it was yesterdays dream
i like a fool fled the feast a hungry man in a dark land
wearing only a milk white robe
and carrying a plastic moon
ill wander till i find you
and sweetheart i hope its soon
i don't even know you yet and i miss you already

the dawn exploded with a roll of thunder
and her frightened face is all i saw in the flash of lightening
i reached out to her with my voice
trying to reassure but it sounded hollow
as the tread of armed men became apparent
in the fog to the east
i grabbed up her and our meager provisions and we fled
deep into the forest
where we came to the cabin of the hideous man
we knew he would shelter us from any storm blowin'
long as we could provide news of the wider world

so long into the night as she cooked
i regaled him with tales both real and invented of the
glory's and and great defeats
as i treated his wounds and gave him advices to mend
morning found a strange tale of its own
standing on the porch with a hawking gun in hand
he was a man of the far west
he had come from the dry dust
he had come from the bitter cold
and now he lay his burdens on the hideous mans doorstep

he had come looking for a crew to take with
to the high mountain pass
there in the wicked snows lay a treasure
there in the harsh night lay a tomb
the hideous man pointed to me and said
here is a young man with a strong back
and not a prayer to be had for love nor money
take him and the woman too

so we set off into the cursed darkness seeking
as all men must a better life in the promise of jems and jewels
she followed me or the stranger i could no longer tell
she was no stranger to leavings
and she would leave me high and dry at the drop of a thousand hats
she was no angel
i was no saint

we made our way to the high mountains
and there labored for many days and months
from that spring
till near christmas day
without nearing our treasures
fell to fighting with one another
over every spilled crumb
over every mislaid word

no better and now bitter she left us both there
in the cold of the midnight sun
for the face of some young jim
and his riverboat card games

i finally surrendered too
to the clear thought that we had been had
there was no treasure to be found
so i stole his hawking gun and made for the river trying
to find my wayward girl
but fell in with dark men who
wanted price for the riverboat ride
the kinda coin the hawking gun could fetch
so they murdered me in my sleep
and i slipped to the tomb without a name or a grubstake

now lay me up in the dark waters
now sing me a summer meadow
by the riverside
buried there a poorboys grave of a single wood board
carved with the words
that riches are a fools game
if you have come seeking treasures
seek thee elsewhere cause this boy died here without a penny

the second time i found her
it was in the midst of the grand staircase
she sat at the far edge overlooking the ballroom below
where many a face spun in wild dance
where many hearts fluttered on the verge of dreams

she cupped a single rose in her painted hand
its petals were cracked and dusty
and its scent had hints of rain
but she clutched it to her warm heart like adoration
saying softly that if she held it for long enough she could
give it life once again
i knew this to be true
but i feared the cost to her visionary soul
would it blind her to the tigers among the lillies in the ballroom
are we all not blind to the tragedy of happenstance

so i swept her up and rode into the night
to the shallow waters of the coast
where the salt of the sea could wash away the rose
cleanse the mortal wound that is such loves
but it was made of thicker smoke than that
and still you could smell a taste of rain on its dusty blue petals

i built a forest house that fall
and there i sat her to recuperate
but she only wanted to once again dance in the ballroom
with the faces of grandeur and the voices of naughty leasuire
'only a friend can debate you this tale'
is how i defended keeping her from that fate
once again we strove to gather words from the skies
as they fell like leaves abandoning their trees

once again she left in the spring
promising this time to take great cares with her pen and heart
i gave her a tender friends smile of my own as she had once done for me
and after she had faded down the summer road
i made my own way to the ballroom
because in secret i too longed to be lost in the swirling joys
the abandon of faces and names
of tigers dancing in the field of lillies
in a ballroom of trees

it was in the darkness that i found her
there by the dry fountain
its basin gathered the paper thin years
like withered leaves
like soul searching written with her lips
like a castle keep penned with the inks of my regrets

the dry fountain flowed once upon a time with a rich river of
all manner of worldly beasts
the fabled ones and the forgotten ones
and their tales like tapestry's woven with heart strings

now the dry fountain was her home
she bid me take my leasuire for a moment from my fleeing
so my bone thin horse could rest his weary heart
i offered her coins in gratitude for her shelter
with a gentle hand she turned such aside
and instead took my hand
and withdrew the pen embedded in my skin

and said to me that
'each dawn requires a darkness with which to begin'
she began with fragments of me
i tried in vain to be the candle that holds back the shadows
but in truth she is venus finding gentle sweet sainthood in her repertoire
like a frail swan of the ethereal grace

she wanted only to see the glory days to return to this place
to see the fountain flow once again
see its thriving life and its deep magics of the heart
we spent that winter camped there gathering each paper thin tomb
and placing them at the alter of the written word
but to no avail
the days had fallen to cold stone
and not even the brilliant light she shed soulshine and heart
could revive the dry fountain

the last i saw her she had glanced back from her road leading away
with a kind woman's smile she gives to friends
she once said i was too reckless with my heart
now i knew what she meant

the animated man moves with languid effect
against the scattered clouds of the sky far overhead
he walks at a slow stumble
on the oil stained pavement of suburban driveway
'this is where the light blue mustang was parked'
he is carrying a stone carved into the shape of a head
its mind leaning precarious over the edge of sanity
you can taste its butterscotch candy laughter
and its salt water taffy tears
its face frozen in apocalypse of conflicting thought

he moves along the dirt road
hemmed in by trees and wild growths
the humidity so thick you swim rather than tread
but the feral grin sewn into his face
with her needle and threads
is what moves her
she adores its primal bloodletting
a self contained self abuse machine

she leads the way down the dusty road
to the clearing where night children gather
to make celebrations to dark matter
and the things it spawns
her thighs tingle at the thought of dead flesh
and feasts of the eyes filthy mind
the images in her mind are never really clear to her
just **** flesh rubbing cold things
i am disturbed by her dark dream
seek to flee on wings of night
but fail as he arrives head in hand
and pronounces logical rules for the slaughter
this night has no end
just the rest of fitful dreams

her ashen eyes hypnotize
the crisp summer wind catches me
i am not stirred from my place at her side
deep in thought she twirls a braid of her hair
and i watch her warm emotions
flowin easy like daylight on her
lovely features

the day romances its reasons
but finally bows to evening tides and begins to retire
with the flourish of a well mannered man of leasuire

the day walks with the sundown by the seaside town
hand in hand and window shop
the little shops full of sparkling wonders
and rich with old sea tales and lore
finally daylight leaves us on the the sand with evening stars
greeting each of us with brilliant words spoken to the eyes
the night long with its thoughts shared between lovers
and there she cupped me in her gentle smile

i knew that kind of love once again
that a woman gives of her secret heart
  like a summer rain
soft in touch and swift
deep with history's yet to be written
and rich with loves yet to be sung
and there once again she caressed my cheek
with tenderest touch and reassured
that all swift summer days contain such equal long nights
and she would not sway from her place
by my side