One piece of punctuation would
end this poem as it should:
a "." would make it good--
that is, at least I think it could

When writing haiku
do you always count it out
on your fingers too?

There are places I remember
from the time we spent together there,
filled with memories of our loving,
when our laughter warmed and filled the air.
Now I go there when I'm empty
and the pain is more than I can bear,
and I pretend we're still together
in the memories that we share.

Lonely days, so full of echoes
from the voices of the cherished past---
I call your name, I taste your kisses--
I believed our love would surely last.
Again I hold you, oh so tender
at the dimming of the summer's day--
I feel your arms around me ,
and I still can hear you say:

"You're my angel, you're my spirit:
my sun and moon, my everything!
I've never known such loving,
how you fill my heart and make me sing."
And I believed you, how I loved you,
it's so hard to go and leave you there
when I come back from the feeling
of the memories we share.

I ain't got nobody baby, but you
I ain't got nobody baby, but you
I ain't got no family
to care about what I do
I ain't got nobody, baby
but you.

I ain't got no friends to call my own
I ain't  got no friends, don't need no phone
I ain't got nobody
when I'm feelin' so alone
I ain't got nobody, baby
but you.

I ain't got no dog to come home to
I ain't even got no dog to come home to
I ain't got nobody
'cause I'm hard to get close to
I ain't got nobody, baby
but you.


(a blues)

I'm lost
between these chords,
thinking about you--
playing my guitar,
singing about you.

I know I shouldn't do it,
I should get the hell away!
We will never be together,
so why is it, whenever I play

I'm lost
between these chords,
thinking about you?
And every song I'm singing,
I'm singing just
for you,
just for you.


You are all I dream of,
though I'm not the one you see,
so I try to rein my heart in,
but it's wild and strong and free,
and it carries me away
to a place it wants to be,

where we run like wild horses in the moonlight,
flying like the wind beside the sea,
splashing through the diamond water,
there's a place where we can be

lost
from this world that we know, and
free
to run where our hearts want to go,
sailing to another world
that only love can find,
You can't get there from just anywhere,
you can't go in your mind,

you've got to be
lost,
to find that hidden door
free,
to reach that farthest shore

I want to get lost together,
just you and me,
Lost in that place where
we can be free,

running like wild horses in the moonlight,
flying like the wind beside the sea,
splashing through the diamond water,
let's go to that place
where we can be
lost and free
lost and free
you and me.

There's a different muse that you can use
who helps stuck writers with the blues.
She wears black vinyl, comes on strong,
and loves to party all night long.

Her pink hair's spiked, her collar too. She
pops her gum while she talks to you.
Her music's loud, and so is she,
she inspired "Bad Company."

She loves to belt, though she can't sing,
she's got a song for everything.
Her specialties are punk and rap--
she'll scream you one in nothing flat.

Just don't ask for love songs, or
she'll flash her tat: reads "Love's a *****!"
Romance? No, she's got no time.
She'll sing you, "Love's no friend of mine:"

"I've been mistreated and abused,
it's love that makes me sing the blues.
I don't want no love no more--
when love walks in, I'm out the door!"

So helpful, when you're feeling that
love's appealing as a road-killed cat.
A real romantic antidote, she'll
sink your boat, if it's still afloat.

I don't know
how to stop kissing you
long enough to untangle
our breaths;

how to move even the
slightest distance from the magnet
of your skin,

how to feel anything but
your heart beating
within mine.

I do know
we are healing the world
with our love
and each kiss.