Impossibly close, I'm
beginning to believe you were
actually here with me, dreaming
away all doubts

My good friend Katie and I have entered the running for the show of a lifetime.

     I come to you wonderful people today to ask for your help.

We need to network via all the social media and amass as many "likes" and five-star ratings on the site as possible in order to open for Tyler Ward in Atlanta this winter.

Simply go to this web address: http://www.topblip.com/w/15262

       Listen to our song, click on the fifth star and connect through Facebook to give us a
STAR RATING (the vote number should instantly increase by five), "LIKE" our video, and SHARE IT with your friends, please!

                   You can give another STAR RATING ONCE A DAY for the remainder of the contest!
                       (if everyone reading this goes and does it, we will win.)

             Thank you so much for your support of this new creative jaunt of mine, I really
                         believe we can land the show with your help :)

(As some incentive, we're about to release a lovely CD, and I would be happy to send off the    tracks to helpful souls like yours!)


Banjo Song

Did you find what you were looking for
Did you walk across the golden shore
My dear, I wish the world for you and much much more
I hope you find what you've been looking for

Do you cry when the day is done
Did the strength you needed never come
When the world is turned against you and you're on the run
I hope you find the strength to carry on

Have you forgotten me, my friend
I love you know, I loved you then
While you were out there in the world without me

Do the city lights excite your soul
Do you walk the quiet country road
No matter where you choose to share your boots, somehow I know
That's the place I wanna go

So meet me by that old porch swing
Where we'll sit and talk and laugh and sing
There ain't no place in the whole **** world I'd rather be
Than right here with you next to me

All my love I'll send
Cause our crooked paths are sure to meet again

Do you hear me when I call your name
Do you choose to walk the other way
You said time ain't gonna break us, but I guess times changed
When you were out there in the world without me

That little heart shaped from green?
                         as I am.
         love formed with time and care, growing
     stronger and more vibrant every second,
            
               immortalized
                    there with you.

While it's easy to talk about holding on to
moments, they always slip through your
fingers in hindsight (I never thought I'd miss
having my name penciled on a napkin holder)

always is a strong word, I just
know I won't be around forever

and I'm not supposed to, not
yet

There are times when everything is right.

Such times are coming.

Plans have gone and changed, I'm
off and away regardless, couldn't
care more about this vagabond desire, I'll
burn the laughter down and run right out
of town, not stopping ahead for a yellow like
an eight-sided rule anymore, you've lifted
the unknowing latch and I'm out, I'm
out out
out.

Have I woken to find
myself surrounded by
such stars?

I am a styrofoam cup with the
bottom gently cut out, but
                                              maybe if I pour in
                                            fast enough, I can still be
                                                              ­                  full
          
                             for a little bit

Somewhere between the pillow and
the motivation of a Sunday brunch lies
relative stillness and steady
progression of time like a
lightbulb, growing
brighter each second

This is a
waste of time, all my
thoughtful pretending

and I seldom allow
myself to recognize who
I want to be, surrounded by
strings, a silently persisting
taboo future

What came first, me or
the harmony words?

sometimes I wonder

You're my picardy
third, the major apex in
this slice of life

the one that brings the audience to
its feet like so many jacks from their
boxes with the pop-out love you
shine all the time

"Gone away to
dream forgotten places up, rising
like a helium balloon in the lilac
sky, really"

"I intend to return soon, but who can
tell where the horizon will let
down, in which direction life's
tides might drift"

(that when you next scratch your
back I should appear an instant
later in dismay, a
bit too late to feel your skin
warm my fingertips on this
cold autumn afternoon)

So blind we cannot touch

We are what we love and not what
loves us
             balance in creativity
unchecked, if we stay scared, we
   cannot progress, see

I AM NOT INCOMPLETE, I am

a full picture in
myself that loves and chooses to
love another pigment, a specific
style of painting out a life, so

there is no "completing the
puzzle", only expanding our
beautiful view like a new
universe of stars winking with
open hearts

to hear the music singing, an unfiltered
hum in my ears always

and want nothing else.

Do you know the bird?

Of course not. each
   updraft a soaring appreciation for
worldly things, textbook happiness
drowning distraction in a pond plump with water
lilies and tadpoles, sinking down to the
       dirt, belly raw on dizzy ground, feet
scrabbling for a safe touchdown, sure this day there
must be a rock or a tree trunk, some natural end to the in-
between where a bitter desperate aftertaste singes the mouth, certain
   nothing else will be known, that this sour tang is only to
remain on this tongue forever, no

asking you if you can relate is like expecting the sun to
rain down and openly weep itself out, quite
   impossible, come on - remember, you
must see clearly - here

comes the lift again, fondest flying above, fully
forgotten panic until winds falter once more

I know the bird.

Old cars and older voices, time
begins anew (with awake) in
the afternoon, chords and
bronze-coated companionship, long-
dead limbs singing, with

not walking but
floating as a mantra in the
dark, wanderer of these
expectant streets disheartened
by the home scoreboard

Insistent upon raised
hands, smoky glasses, drizzled
shards of affection every
now and again when it's
convenient to pipe in the
clean stuff from upstairs

is it diffi-
cult for the benefit of a
nonmaterial bruising, all
greens and gray-colored finger-
tips from a waiting man, you
"never jump where the
bottom rises to meet you", never
drink a road down before you
guess its name to be

satisfied is an abomi-
nation without progressi-
on the path to stagnant waters where
only the living float, belly-
up like dollar bills

Cheers to the one that
finally makes it work, the
time the door stayed wide long
enough for a fall breeze in loafers or
corduroy pants to blow down the
walls of your heart and sit you
down on his patent leather futon

the laugh that stuck around to do
battle with every grizzled teardrop in the
middle of the afternoon

the chance worth taking because all
things can be generalized, but the
best can break free

In lieu of making promises, let's
say there are some words that
refuse to be half-hearted

It's like a pit (a
massive gap in the thoughts that
unsettles you)

and (lest your resolve be crushed to
a fine powder suitable only for the most
tasteful framing)
saturates conversation like a
virus

but there's a problem with this
invitation, if only to

convince yourself the gap is
useful, (that it's a landmark of
sorts, a real treasure, why not
picnic next to it, make up stories
and holidays and marvel at the
obvious ingenuity of the earth in
creating such a beautiful loss)

at the end of the festival, (when the
streamers have faded and
the food lies stale, when the cars have
herded their people home for the
night and the moon reclaims
her sky from clingy weathermen)

it is still a hole, (and you might
fall in).

High tide, high
time for an afternoon spent
chaired, head up and fallen, eyes
open and closed to the fresh list of
life goals: to marry, live surrounded
by nature, spin songs, pluck
poems, to be a good
grandfather

and how best to get there is a
matter of opinion

no sense lame-
nting about the era or
frowning at the tele-
vision that's gone
blind from so many
tears shed over
nonsense, no
senses to eat
out this hollow
mind the fire, you'll
catch cold this
fall to the
leaves

I make up little games for myself sometimes
placing bets on the future, silly things

and I dropped a vitamin C tablet accidentally this
afternoon, immediately declaring a wonderful
something (written dream spoken
aloud) would transpire should the
next one be pink as well
rather than orange or yellow

and it was, so I
smiled a bit and
hope shone an
ounce brighter
tonight

Leaves are martyrs
for a ruthless autumn

When was the last time we
took pictures with every
intention of holding onto them?

it might seem small in comparison to a
global movement for peace or campaign to
end world hunger, but an afternoon and a
handful of memories can go a long way

and sincerity ices the cake

I'll explode and fan outward, touch
everything in the whole world because

desperate laughter is the worst kind

Thoughtful, happy folk around
a campfire, making music in-
between the stars in their eyes
and those above

I'd like for the world to get a little
colder
           so I could have an excuse to curl
          up with you beside a shared fire

(as if I need one)

inhale and
compose like wildfire, searing
words passing warmth like a baton between
minds, distance easily traversed by
a whisper, by a calling

"I am here"

and all is well.

I'm a bit of a ****-up, sure
definitely not a honed ideal, a little bit
askew around the rougher edges, with no
niche found as of yet to proudly call
my own in this humbling collection of
determined bodies, but I wouldn't have
it any other way

I must be me. Otherwise
there is no chance
whatsoever

      and every dream is
      worthless (which of
      course is miles from
      true)

stand up and start
up (you'd better get
up) with fiery eyes and
a wistful heart

In the end, the little ones
scampering about peppers, vibrant
red and yellows and oranges disappearing
into tiny mouths, behind toddling grins with
Meme and Pepere beaming, a
beautiful sailboat in their minds' eye that
was fortunate enough to lose sight of
the shore long ago

Save the date just
for breathing

no walls, both
open

Say when in a heartbeat will
light dwindle down to the
dance on a taper and mirror-eye
bells?

Say how long a lifetime im-
possible it's quite im-
                                      possible
(expecting that wilted
red flower sunk into
its vase to rise up and smell as
though)

            what's that?
alive?

Might I be the first to allow, with
cold drawing near and burnished
autumn in revolt against vivid-scorched
months, all crisp words and bare
arms,
           reflection on these nineteen
years is done with great anticipation, for
purpose and love and vision and dreams, the
foundations envelop my years, stamp
me with 35 cents and a kiss for luck, good
heavens
                  I'm on my way.

our house lights dim, a
hush spread thin as a whisper
caught on your tongue embraces
eyes, hearts, calls them closer

to the passionate vibration between
mind and string from my
girl across the world, it seems a
symphony of indelible impact,
vocalization
to sympathetic heart-drum as
I close my eyes

once more dreaming
for two hands in the dark

Courage
                    born free like a summer breeze, free
                    to twist about and meddle with all
                       sorts of inspiration

that warning light isn't right (been
      meaning to have it fixed), but
              if you insist (your
          tank's quite full)

       here,

             take some of mine.

When we see each other again, if
the skies and waters should allow

I will not let you go for a second

learned as we think we are, only
let me take you in once more

This is the
start of the rest, the
good bits - hang in
there

Is it safe to assume I'm forgotten?

Is it safe to
assume this feeling will pass if I
only go to sleep and dream it
away?

It is safe, now
close your eyes.

I thought they were kidding when they casually
proclaimed the stars that night spectacular

now, faced with a crowd of relative strangers on a learned rooftop seeking
solace in the sky, I know what they knew then

that each day, night, moment, nuance flickers once
and burns out, though light continues

and when the darkness smothers me in night, walking halogen-bright streets
I run for my pen

every which way and the colors
zing faster
            still could you sticky note
      me like candy down glass in a
rainstorm not wild
                       enough I'll just
                                                                take a quick breather and
                        we're back with
                all reds and maroons, learning to
                  tell the difference between (frustrated maverick
                       painters in wetsuits) and bridges and icicles
warm to the touch, is it too
much
     to linger on
               here with the water?
                                  but keep your head down or you'll
                     drown in the bundles of
                              soft pressure backwards
                          with live culture hands

You've gone and gotten a new
coat now, and why?

the old one was just fine.

with its patchwork holes and
zipped up stories (never would
tell) it might be

less exciting to wear out and
about perhaps, but far more
comfortable

Who is the awake? of
cold rainy fingers dripping top
hat to foot

wave wave to the shadow tied to this wall as if
it wouldn't recognize you as if it
wasn't obligated to return the favor, as if it had
a choice

and who is the laughter? disembodied and
floating through hallways, indistinguishable
anonymity rising and flailing again as if light
makes all the difference

don't we know it?

And who can describe the drive
that leads teachers to teach and
dreamers to reach for their
impossibles

I'm reaching, don't
stop teaching me the impossible
never taken for granted (you've got a
heart so big)

my weakness is not that which might
seem to take eleven years or longer, I
revere you and in reverence might
falter a time or two with the noblest
of intentions

and always the pictures I've shared through
words like hugs guiding me, granting
purpose and definition to each struggle
and success, leading alongside cliffs
watched out for to the end that is the
present and the start that is a future

God help me, I cannot imagine
the newness without you, let this
bumbling wordfall, this clatter of
heart assure, soothe

for I am real as the
bones of the oak, as the
glow of a fire on
timeless sand

and just as solid and
just as warm, let me
show you

All I know beyond
a flicker of a flame of a
doubt is that, for whatever
inexplicable reason, you are
fascinating

and each and every day, every
moment with you brings new
light into the equation

so bring on the days and
build up a lifetime

always more things to say
always missing the chance

If there are so many people just like
me where you are

why am I here and why
do I feel as though we're not alone
when we are?

I love you, and I'm
serious

can you say
that?

can you say
torture tonight?

Where were we before I
crossed these eyes and pressed my
tees against the
grain?

against the wine when it's my
time to shine in luster I'll
do my best to muster the strength

I will need to
be that man for you

smokey eyes come
my way into the pages, come

let me listen to your heart and
match time in the forest