as forsaken as the hundred mile forced march
in the blistering sun
wrapped in the liniment of mourning
eyes like haunted shadows
watch the approaching dawn with
keen regrets

they gather themselfs prisons within prison
and shuffle forward into the sweating air
the sound of their sandle clad feet gathers
untill the sound repeats in on its self
and the echo sounds like the world itself
being ground down

the measured politics of this
woman's labours trouble me
she knows the key and combination to free
but profits from their caged destitution
she thinks it ain't so funny now is it

patterns etched in the face of
circumstance are ones of destitute sorrow
romance you with promise
but deliver nothing but offense

defying the odds
freedom is calculated
while desperation can only be measured
in miles or blood

a solider and a sailor
sing a lonesome song just for your entertainment
but in it you are betrayed by visions of heaven
shine with the late night ribald drinkers
after all after a few bottles even mortality seems lively
disjointedly you pick your way
through all these salvation's
never quite believing that you could exceed
your worth and standing
after all you can buy a new life for dirt cheap
long as your willing to give up your lifestyle
long as your willing to be disarmed
of all those quick witted answers you think fit so well
and give up all her peek-a-boo paradise's
the solider and sailor buy a round
and toasting the queen they bury the hatchet
no expectations can lead you on to the
brink of such strange bedfellows but you'll try
you can only hope not to be a victim of such defeatism
when all the ribald drinkers have left the saloon
walking in the thin light of dawn
you will remember all these beautiful things
and dream better dreams
build better sunrises from the gloom of days ending

inside their own penitentiary of thought
waifs await a quiet moment
when rare birds aglow with a treasure of color
may gather in the dusk.

The leather skinned waifs
and wayward hardcase eye ballers
pick the fallen feathers to remake their own
images into one of a leisurely glide from grace
into one of freedom from guilt
and with deft fingers peel away the last page
as i burn the next
with the hot ink of impatient ideas  
leaving only this page behind
under a spread of stars like a mastermind
madman's ideal tool of complete confusion
baffles the heart and soul by a scattering of kittens laced with poison eyes
undermines the self with overwhelming dark mirth
and leaves a river of doubts in the trenches between
you and all your loved ones of yesterday

Its this temple of repentance and reluctance
a brick and mortar remembrance
of a summers day delicate beginning
a spiders web thin mist
on the open water
and the dulled sparkles of fading stars wheeling overhead
rocking on the waves like in a mothers arms
safe and reassuring

this empty palace of the sun
brings me to my knees
to beg my worth in paper
and weight in coin...
measure the lengths which
i must go to find peace at my days end
and wonder at how long i must linger behind
to watch the ribbons of cloud chase each other across
azure skies

dark lung coughs
up all the reasons he should cease
going on with the charade of normality
its mental noodling fools few
and only confirms for everyone
that his nervous smile
contains more than just dark thoughts

he waits the morning out and with a
greasy eye watches clean woman smile
her full figure form fit lie
suits her fly by night nature
but to him she is the perfection
of absolute imperfections
she is practiced in thouse airs
shes follows  Hollywood's nightmare's
and how they have become so accessible and acceptable
the movie starlet high on coke shoplifts
so the faithful flock in tears to the courthouse gate
and weep for their martyr princess

dark lung and his near perfect
knockoff Gucci bag girlfriend
are shopping tonight online
with backwards glances they will go on
survive this day
and look back on this summer with rose color glasses
giving casual nods to to
the ease in which they survived
the struggle
the are expecting a baby
dark lung and near perfect
are expecting a baby
gonna name him Elijah

she perfumes your thoughts
with the soft scents of her mind
and your vision of the day
resolves around her hand holding yours
her gaze wanders into yours
and as it laughs with carefree abandon
you loose yourself in her grey eyes
loose your soul willingly in that
wild and deep sea
she smiles as to say
the beauty of that comfort given
is just as deep and loving as what's received
its that unspoken conversation
its that sharing soul to soul
that makes life
an abundant garden of the heart

golden sunshine goddess notwithstanding the rain
she gives her grace so easily to the fleeting fast day
so apparent in her eyes that she in concept loves the ideal of him
but its the reality that leaves shame's ***** scar
her presence speaks to me in difficult times
her heartbeat whispers nonchalant beauty
like she had spoken into existence the very truth of love itself
only to find the darkness of him as he shadowed her artistic creation
standing with him in the last light of day
its plain to see that they are two sides to the same coin
opposites forever mirroring the other
forever embraced in turbulent attraction
she gives me one last fare thee well
her soft hand gracing me with tears of joy
i leave her to her desired fate
locked in a desperate dance with her lover
like the suns fire kissing the cool sea
like loves first kiss
she was my personal heaven abdicated
and i miss her so much

so rich and thick all these things i'm feelin
makes my head spin when your near me
such a strange dance we do as lovers
the poke and run
tickle and fight
laugh and cry
you talk to me of wonderland to be
i say to you obscure tales of things that were
you revolve around me in a parking lot
rollerskating round my bicycle
kiss round my speaking
what a strange dance lovers do
i see how happy you are
showing off engagement ring
showing off your own private personal poet
little girls wish
romance thats all dreadlocks and naked fun
thats all beautiful things
come with me baby lets run real fast neath the soft trees
come with me lets go find some spot we can
roll in the grass and kiss round eachother
we can find that moment when we
tickle and fight
laugh and cry
do the lovers dance with all the haste of eager youth
with all the desire of old lovers knowin eachother pleasures
do the lovers dance
all fingers, lips...
soft caress hard...
kiss round eachother

you shined once
stirred the waters
made em all stand up and take notice
a romeo dancin in the spotlight
charmed the prettiest of the fast lane
had vanity nailed while you cherished the high-life
but it has a way of sneaking away on you
cause chasing the dream is a full time occupation
a devotion of the addiction to the limelight
and if your not careful it'll get away from you
with a quickness

suddenly you find head in hand
as dawn is creepin in one door
while the last of the fun seekers is strolling out the other
the bill is comin due and your pockets empty
spent it on one last fling but sure it was grand
you did a soft shoe shuffle that they will never forget
funny how the top of the world looks so different when your fallin from it
never know where you day is gonna take you
but it will take you

things change enough and eventually so do you
the top of the world means something new
and from the top of your molehill it don't look too shabby
settle down with another lost soul
and share a love thats real
and as you settle down end of your day with
your girl in your arms you think to yourself
came a long way
to come back to where you started from

a jaybird makes you a nightwatchmen
and you can be the leading role in your own picture show
you can write the script of your own life
peculiar as it may be
long as your happy
long as your happy

i followed you along the silent train tracks
in the dark cold rain
stepping on photographs of sunshine
watching the world wash away the graffiti of possibility
cause you promised
you pinky swore
that we are a heartbeat away from love
that we are in the way of knowin what the heart dreams
i followed you into the winters night with romance on my mind
you never told me that i would have to leave it all behind
i still believe we will find love
still believe because
you promised
you pinky swore...

cling to my misspoken thoughts
as my emotional titanic sinks
leaving me gasping for breath
put up a brave face while walking through
a snake pit of unfriendly eyes
she walks beside me with her dark motives in a jar
she plagiarized his sardonic smile
and nourished the same beast that's within all of us
that thrives on angry tears
no mystery this happenstance face i wear
i got it from the dogeared newspaper salesman
who lingers on the street corner in the rain
his headlines always predict the worst of human nature
but if you read the fine print
there are always better people trying to speak above the fray
and if you had heard the soft siren song
it would have spoken beautiful things to your heart
it would have given you gifts of knowin'
brought you home with her voice
made you at ease with the tale told
as she plagiarizes your sweetest smiles

distant television noise
echoes down the hallway
distorted
fragile
softly penetrating like warm rain
covering the senses thick with trepidation

she sips the cold water
with dry lips
her hand brushing her hair back constantly
like a nervous tick
you can taste the miles traveled in her eyes
her ragged breathing comes close to me
nestles in my ear
and makes my thoughts twist

i lean into the hard plaster wall
the chipped paint ***** with fingerprints
my heart hanging on the nail deeply driven into it
cluster of imperfections surrounding
distorted by the lamp light
appear man made
but are really the implications of madness
teasing the mind with disturbing thoughts

there was a desperate plea
from his television face
which is drawn for maximum sorrow
and moderate crowd appeal
i'm sure they had it all on paper somewhere in LA
under the guise of a eight by ten portrait in words
of mad king george
he wanted to be a better man
but his desperate plea went unanswered
by everyone but some little kid in a cowboy outfit
carrying his six shooter and a plastic pony
guess you take whatever salvation gets dealt you way
so the last we saw of him that day
he was sitting on the floor
doing a sock puppet show for the masses
on the dangers of being the king of england
without a crown
she called him a looser
but i asked her to put aide such notions
who better to get acquainted with the heights
than somebody who has fallen to the depths
his blues are tried and true
he wont try and double deal
be trying to hard to prove that he never should have left
and the kid with the plastic pony
turned out to be the next president
cause he knows what horse to back
plastic ponys and kings are all the same anyway
his television face finally got redrawn
for a more sympathetic crowd approval
and soon he will be a celebrated name once again
while id prefer to jut slip back into obscurity
if i could just have a girl to love
and roof over my aching head
but time will tell
cause mad king george is long since
retired to miami

another rain storm plays her song on my roof
singing sweetly of summers end
tapping out heartstrings song such a peaceful way
the grey looks so dreamscape against the trees
the bears of her heart come to hug me
as her song wraps round my mind
dance a quick step son
try to get your feet wet
cause it'll be snow soon so lets love the rain while we can
lets find the adventure in the puddles
lets find castles in the fallen leaves
lets roll and play in summers still sweet grass
living is now and its so fine
living is the heart found joy
the soul found freedom in smiles
come on lets go runnin in the puddles
lets get our feet wet
lets smile and be the worlds sun till the sun comes round again

she picks up the shards
of her broken mind places them in
neat arrangement of prettiest colours
giving such names and thinks of lives
they have never lead
with husbands never met
pretty dresses for each adorned piece
of her mad mad mind
but it delights her no end
to imagine the tender kiss each one gets
the warm embrace earned by fretting the cookies and pie
quick teddy roosevelt steals a cookie with
a toothy grin
its just a image of a shattered shard
but its enough

carrying her caravan of eyes
in a concealing tortoise shell bag
she seals away along the edge of
perceived existence where the headlights don't shine
the houses far off enough not to see clearly
she makes for the wood and the
wind soaked lake
its dark waters crisp and cold
on her hot feet
a place where she is alone enough
to feel free

she lays her eggshell children of the mind
on the glacier torn rock
in the brilliant summer sun
where without motion sparkle and gleam like silent fire
and sings to them
a lullaby
ring a round the rosie pocket full of posies
plague men come knockin on the door
but quick teddy roosevelt long gone
dig a hole for you
dig a hole for me
thrice you labour in the all day into night
thrice you pile earthen mounds in the sun
but never no more
spend your pocket of posies my young one
she gathers up her shattered mind
and flees home finally able to see
the plague is of the mind
and it has come home to roost

her single shot pistol is smoking as you walk in
her blushing bride smile is a dead give away
that something is amiss
he left a ballroom waltz
worth of footprints all over her smile

she persuades you to rent a buick '
and take the pursuit on the road
so the three of us head south on the us-1
to some strange beachside town
where all the girls are bubble gum machines
and the boys are paint by number boxing fans
but we finally catch the thin fatman
sitting on a beach-chair
sipping tea
and lookie-louing yachts from nantucket

she kisses and makes up with him
and you know that your romantic days are over
and she gives no reason but she got a soft spot
for his three piece suit lifestyle
brooks brothers got nothing on him
he gets his threads form the five and dime
pockets full of pickles
bread in his thinning hair

her subtleties and jewels
are billboarded for the drawing of crowds
but the faces sketched by the grease lights are not
the kind that such an exquisite artwork of womanhood
like her should bring out on such a soft spring night
so they fold her up and pack her away
careful not to crease her fine linen soul
and place her neatly away in her cedar chest
knowing i will sneak her out later for wine and ballroom dancing
bring her back to the circus of the obscene
just as dawn creeps into the cool crisp sky

a single tear in her eye for her lost teenage years
when she only wanted to rebel a bit
but spent the time posed neatly like a porcelain doll
she was a lifesize lovesick reproduction in technicolour of herself
all thouse years ago
better to have gone away
better to have been a roadside companion
of the weary walkers
than grown old as one of the window decorations of the world
shes there now in the sun faded backdrop to the shopping season
but ill rescue her someday
well live in somerset and sell glass trinkets

her introspection is the short film version
but her poems are the epic novels
of such sweet romance
it sways the most hardened to the tender embrace
to the love of soul to soul kisses

she weaves such a tender tale
but her nights are spent alone
watching a winter moon
cross the summer sky
her hand aching for the hand that once held it
aching for the love that abandon her to this fate
i hope someday to fill that void in her world
wedged between the cardboard cowboy's forever smile
and the caped crusader sleeping off his drinking binge

she hovers over the handwritten letter
with maniacal grin gripping her face
as she devours his texted words
with weeping eyes
and she sings in unnatural tones a child's lullaby in some
forgotten french dialect
delightful reflections in song of the garden gate
leaning broken onto the rough hewn path
where the soulless cherubs cherish their seed

in haphazard rows cherub faces sling silent tears
and labour at the desires never felt and
the dark soils never fertile
seeking redemptions in the rebirth of the harvest moon
which decorates the far wall of the tomb

the cherubs brief delighted laughters
soon sputter and fail
as in the dying light of day
reveals that they must labour yet another day
to no useful end

she lives in this place
a cottage of straw with dark windows
and a wood stained door
she sits on its porch with knitting in hand
weaving futures for her beloved cherubs
weaving pasts for her own
she devoured him like she did his words
and came home to roost
like her innocent faced dragoons
she will someday march forth with this army of doom
but today she is content to be contrite
knitting porridge and whey wall hangings
from the tables of the
steampunk princess

the small wooden floor room
where she spreads her trinkets
her mystery box spells and
potions in tiny bottles

she lay there amidst her tokens and treasures
and sings softly along with a song
that plays in the distance
on a radio
a song that speaks to her of simpler times
and beautiful people
of a better world we all left behind decades ago
a world she could rejoin if she belived hard enough

the days when she holds enough hope
there is a smile
and she faces out towards the sun
but i dread the days when
she captures a glance at the reflection  
of her fast vanishing days
and how little things have changed in her life
her smile is gone on thouse days
her face is a shadow
i must carry her through
days like that she needs my strength
to keep from getting trapped

the crisp blue skies
frame the giant oak tree that we lay under
leaves float down here and there
with vivid fall color
you can taste fall in the air
you can feel it in the texture of her conversation
as she talks of hallows eve
and Christmas

William Tell
Ivanhoe and Chaucer
its the season for dinner theater
its the season for a bottle of red wine in the sand
by the river
and the tales to be told
grand ventures to be undertaken
in bold and fast words alone

she takes your hand
and with a deep smile touches your lips
with her fingertip
and begins to speak
but you never get to hear what she would have said

you awaken sheets soaked in sweat
twenty years on
and she still visits you near every night
sometimes its her on the beach where she died
sometimes its the weeks that lead up to that
godforsaken day
twenty years
twenty years
twenty years

her nails are a powder blue
each finger adorned with a ring
that has a meaning and place in her life
this one she got in her hometown in the south of france
this one she found roadside leaving denver
each has a story to be told
as if her hand is a roadmap to loves secret places
her delicate hands weave her thoughts
on the air when she speaks
the brass bracelet with her moonstone
and the silver ones ****** softly accenting her lovely voice
her elegant gestures flow and ebb with the conversation
but her soft hand always finds its way back to mine
and in that warm embrace of her tender fingers
where i find such joy and love
i could spend a lifetime telling
you about all the wonderful things i love about her
so let me begin by telling you about
her nails are a powder blue....

the quintessential beautiful day
but there is shadow etched in the patches of light
there is taste of misgivings in sweet afternoon air
the heart sketches its dreamscape
but distant thundercloud ripe with storm encroaches
but it is the image that intrudes
a vision from the inner mind
that sends precursors of darkness into my perfect day
an unsettled mind always creates dark creatures
to hunt down and haunt my best moments
why cant i leave myself alone
why must i hound my own footsteps with these dark tidings
the vision that creeps into my heart
is of the girl i left in the mountains
and what joy she would find here in paradise
if i had only
if i could only
would have...should have...didn't
why must i hound myself with all the possible things
she wouldn't even lower herself to talk to me
and i just beat myself up with desires to rescue her
she should be a forgotten bad dream
she should be forgotten....
the quintessential beautiful day
but all i can see is the tombstones of sorrow
and the paths not taken
it will change
it will change
with time
i will leave this dark girl behind

small hand delve into the waters
seeking the grand design
and his place in it
spend your days frugally and thin of heart
to what gain
thous endeared to your fleet foot
handsome pretense loose hope
in the everlasting winter of your indifference

small hand offered meek and tentative
but in the midst of torrential rain
it goes without the reply it so needed
withdrawn slowly as if to speak to the thought
am i so unworthy in your eyes
am i so disdained
is this the end of my days
have the words finally escaped me
never to return

the pretty poet holding his hand
whispers to him across the miles that he need
not feel so alone
she dances in her shower and dreams of him
that tender thought
that hopeful and giving heart from far west
helps him endure
recalls to him that this need not be the end of his road
need not think tomorrows joy is unattainable

pretty poet
he cannot always find the words
sometimes for all he wishes to say
his pen lacks the words
except thank you from the bottom of his heart


reprise:
at last at the end of your days
embrace the offered hand
know that you are the first to tread
that lonely wood

there were lights blazing to the east
but her eyes were fixed to the west
someplace out in that darkness he rode into the night
with his gun in hand to regulate the doubters
she lay in the aftermath of the gunfight
with her cards and flowers
wondering where she had gone so wrong
wondering if she would ever get that white picket fence
with the two kids and all the fixins of her dreams
dawn begins to do its silent dance
as she worried the edge of her dress
and looked so like a lost angel
fallen from grace but holding her own
she will make breakfast for the townsmen
and serve up the hard liquors
just a matter of time she thinks to herself
before he will come back this way
take her up to the bedroom with promises on his grin
and for a moment she will believe once again
that itll all change
he will take her far away from this place
someday she will have the dreams
but for now she slips the ring into her pocket
and gets back to work
someday
someday

protect the moment
when her heart kisses mine
trying to find my home in the stars
protect the moment
when the gentleness that i love in her
gives me that beautiful moment when i can believe again
protect the moment
because you never know when till its gone

breeze back to the days before life had changed
venture to the remembrances
the birds gather dozen or so
in the almost lake of a puddle
all talking their reasons in such beautiful voice of song
but i scatter them to wing
with a casual shout
early morning sun burns the water to mist
and i splash thru with mock giant step
making as much of a mess as i can
because i can eat my desert before i eat dinner
i can stay up and watch the late late movie
while drinking a river of beer if that suited me
cause im too **** old to give a
about what anybody thinks
cause im wandering midnight parking lots alone
and i really need a girl like you to hold hands with
run thru puddles with
learn to duck dance under the stars
and find what this strange circus world has to offer us

ashes fell like snow
drifting down aimlessly
silently one landed in her hair
but her eyes were fixed on the fire
a great rushing crackling tortured sound
as the building burned
we could only stand and watch
can still feel its heat on my face

years pass
with the seasons laying a great drift
of leaves and tangle of vines on the ruins
sticking up out of the rough sea of dead debris
the twisted remains of a child's school desk
the frame of it jutting out of the snow
melting in the spring breeze
a muted shout of metal

the jungle gym overtaken by weeds
and the swings just a rusted frame
i clamber up the top to see the vista
but only gain another perplexing view of ashen earth

we walk down the broken path
to the small house
its broken window a haven for a thrush
and nestled in its brick doorway
a rusty clowns head
battered and leaning over
the grin lost in reddish decay

we sit in the room we love
in the small broken house
really no more than a child's playhouse
while the summer air gathers in close to us
thick and filled with heavy summer scents
the sun piercing the room like a hot razorblade

she wont look at me
only sits mumbling a song unrecognized
till the words slip clear of old nursery rhyme
i fear for her fragile sanity's
she unbuttons her shirt
sweat pours from her like spring rain
she finally looks at me
and with a vacant diabolical tone
tells me she wants to hurt me in ways
no-one else can
unhinged

as dusk litters the field
we come to stand where we stood that night
come to relive once more our thoughts
and words
as we watched it burn
symbolically i place a small grey paper in her hair
for the ashes that fell like tears
symbolically she raises a single forlorn cry
asking that i save someone
but there is no one to be saved
we are a lifetime too late
symbolically we weep

the twisted iron
in the rubble rebuffs our desire for comfort
the leaden sky
denies our desire to close this terrible thing
leave it behind

as nights restless hand pushes us
back to the small house
she takes my hand
silently forgiving us both
for having only been children
when our world burned to the ground

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

she ran quick as sin
to tell the moon of the maidens sea of intents
but her tongue twisted upon the word
as they were written
she will always remember the first kiss
such a desire of such a succulent dream
but she will always fail because she forgets the pain of aftermath
the bird of her heart has its
mighty wings restrained by a brief touch of his lips
you cannot purchase but you must certainly pay
so she ran quick as sin
his rose colored glasses will alter your mind
in no time at all he will grant you
you wildest dreams with a simple kiss
just one kiss...whats the harm
so she will succumb to him
trying to recapture that first lovely kiss
that first kiss

the day collapsed exhausting its light
and night slipped in
like a thief
and with a grin
stole away with my waking mind
so in dreams i lay
hoping to see another way
but the dream had me
on a small boat
in a quick river
smell the water still
not salt like the sea
but a clean taste to the senses
like spring rain
from the palate of the soul
it leads one to plow under
the regrets if yesterday
and plants the seed
of futures unseen and hopeful
like quick river
leads me to places that i never imagined
in wild dreams
great castles of the forest grand
adventures of the boundless soul
and the unfinished self portrait of life path
  small quick river bends
and twists along the worlds surface
like a wandering child
ever drawn to some exciting bauble
sparkling jewel
it lay in the sand of your quiet banks
soaked by the sun
and cooled by your crisp waters

the light reflected off one of the
spanish beads in her hair as it spilled
off her shoulder in the rain
a faded tattoo of a bird flying lay there too
it carried a rose with a broken heart

i covered her with my jacket to keep off the chill
as we moved along the deserted road
and she took comfort in my company
gracing me with a complex smile
one with many sides and meanings
like any womans love
shifting like the sea of sand in the mysterious desert
shifting like the masterpieces of the the sea of stars above
no man can utter whats written there
but only a fool can fail to see
the beauty in her eyes

she reached out one hand
and with just fingertips brushed the hair from my eyes
simple but with such quiet truth to her gesture
she knew i could love her
and she knew she could love me
and the sands of earth and sky stood still as a whisper
and the world fell to just that magical moment and it was right
and even a fool could see
the beauty in her eyes
was for no other than me
meant to be

the rag man
sits under the freeway bridge
while it rains
a small lizard crawls out of
the sandy soil
its emotionless eye focused
the desolate day
breeds sand blown wind burned faces

a chill wind speaks its mind to him
and while he huddles within his torn coat
and with one eye bare to the world
watching for the rains retreat
the rag man eats slow
savours the fresh water fish taste
of his divided mind
waits for the rain to retreat

remnants of his life
cling to his pocket
lint covered photographs
dust filled half remembered dreams
he believes he carries all he will ever need for
the road he sits by that
follows the coast down into the sunny islands
where they say you can live on the beach
where all you need is a dream to thrive

each sound is the great beyond
trying to tell him significant moments of his day
no rattle of the chain to be taken lightly
even the silence has voice in the grand scheme
even if its single contribution
is futility of waiting
step boldly or timid as doormouse
but step kiddo step

the freeway is a river
upon which the concepts we call lives float