I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass; nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look mama,
look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?
Please look at me, mama.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...

You build me with
turquoise and
the mountains of Taos.
Cerulean blue
serenity in my soul.
My heart chases
after you.
Even your chisel
helped me
grow through
the pain.
You
are the
grand artist,
The Supreme
sculpter.

I'd still smile fondly, looking at you;
Knowing the future having us will never be true.

There is a circle there
Bounded by four chairs
Wide cushioned seating
Round that circle
Circling for a safe place to land
A place of comfort that must pass though discomfort

Words, words, words, roll around the circumference of the circle
From one speaker to the next like a wounded bird, it's wings clipped, trying to meet the ground most gently

Each voice adds to the wind that sustains flight. Tales in turn,
Tail winds that nurture the same story
An anthology that softens the landing.

Words of shared tragedy,
Voices edged with tears,
Tales of hurt,
Glimmers of hope.
A crescendo on the breaking line between melodies of relief and the rage of a maelstrom.

The living heart of the storm is full of love but beating in pain
As it gathers pounding momentum, new voices are added, the storm takes shape can the tempest find its own peace?


Right there.
Right there in the center.
The center of that circle.
That circle that holds them all together.
That circle bounded by four chairs.

As the circle breaks they find they can navigate life anew. Released by the storm, not dropped by it. They can laugh again. They can be better than before. Having been part of that turbulent chorus that miraculously heals the soul.

Maybe I should drop my expectations
I was thinking we'd be grand
But all my art is mediocre
These things never go as planned
Maybe it's 'cause you've seen it all
There's just one person to impress
And that is me, oh let it be
I'll just be awkward and depressed.

And now I see why it would be
That my voice never sounds quite right
There's just a strange quality
Like trying to race the speed of light
It's not your fault, actually
It's what makes you who you are
But I am left here, floundering
Drowning deep beneath the stars.

Do you promise that I shine bright?

I feel so empty and lame tonight.

Do you promise that I shine bright?

I feel so broken, I feel so broken

I woke up alone
And to tell you the truth,
I fell asleep that way too.

But then
The in-between.

I stood at my kitchen window
And I heard the distant voices
And forgot for a moment

The way you’d forget a kettle on the stove
But here I am now,
The whistling in my ears
Shrieking in a syncopated curse,
Alone again alone again alone again alone again alone again