Like roots we grew together
And through light we prospered
And with the love of nature we bloomed into a plentiful tree
But then we grew separate
Our limbs parting in opposite directions
And even though we were close enough to feel the presence of one another
We would never meet again

Lips intertwine
Stained like red wine
Your tongue over mine
Flows so divine

Sometimes I see tissues
Sitting by your bed
And sometimes I stop to wonder
If our love is dead

Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

These black raspberries
do not understand
the intent
of my caresses.
When I reach
to prune them,
they scratch;
when I try
to **** them,
they clutch;
when I lean in
to mulch them,
they slash.
They are like
angry lovers
who want
to make love,
but want
to draw blood,
too.
Perhaps a poem
will soothe them;
it often works
on women.
- mce

~                                When i sleep
                                 I am the ocean
                                   I am the sea
              I am winter wind through dying leaves
                  I am a bird that dives in the breeze
                            I am her as she is me
                     So when the light is to bright
                Close your eyes and dream of night
                   I am a ball that bounces down
                     I am an old merry go round
                I am the grass thats growing slow
                     I am a man with an old soul
                     I am the gentle autumn rain
              I am the winter when the dying begins
                               So hold me close
                                But not for long
                       soon enough i will be gone
                               I am not the grave
                           You dug in the ground
                              I am in everything
                                I am all around
             So when you wake In the midnight dark
                     Do not cry i am in your heart