i am dizzy
sitting, spinning
careening out of control

losing my place
never winning the race, pacing
back and forth i lie shaking
while hungry buzzards pick at my soul

heart revival, perspired desire
revels softly with patience growing thin
a cadence dancing
some might call it prancing
across the empty court-field

lets all sing a song
while we wait for mourning eyes
that upon death's doorstep might they play
but sadly mistaken,
the poor road less taken,
has led us to life's light astray.

and rambling, ambling
swiftly i am still spinning,
like the bathwater does 'round the drain
emotionless crying,
a soul left denying,
it would be better to have been set,
left in place.

the warmth
of vibrant colors in soft sunlight
makes a child of me
in the way i might run to chase the wind
as the leaves are dancing toward the heavens

what simplicity
separate colors on their palette
do paint until blended
mixed with all the hues of life and energy
so that they may build the blocks that breathe this world
with light and creativity

of all these colors
do i find you with black on white
with wires and impulses
numbers arranged in a way that have no meaning
but to other machines on the other side of the world

and that your eyes might find them
so that if only for a second
those colors might exist in your mind
the way that memories exist in your heart

If the cold pavement knew you so well
it would know that your name spelled disaster
and would not hold you up
as you fell upon it
a broken needle in your arm

but i know your name
it once spelled redemption
a curse'd spell that once cast would creep upon sinners
and render them asunder
so that they might begin to beg for mercy

and as the mites might crawl through your ear
so must your name bore itself into our brains
like so many maggots that feast on our memories
that repeat back and forth
until their origin, distorted
become more lie than story

you could line up the alphabet
repeat it upon itself
until your name appeared against it's actual meaning
track marks and broken houses
stained couches and crying mothers
a dream left abandonded

oft was the night as a child that i did dream
of such eyes that would captivate
and stop the earth's rotation

and in adolescence i found so many reasons
to think that i might have found those eyes
only to find that they did pale in the comparison
so i found myself dreaming again

though i did not want to wake
as the dreams held more promise
the hope in me did not cede

now as a man i had lost the dream
until i saw yours in the dimly lit cabin
of my pale green 2003 nissan altima
and that every day since
has been but a dream come true