There is
a certain kind of
rush
my body feels
when I pull
my heart out of my chest
and place it
in front of you

i woke this morning to the blues,
tired eyes can’t fathom this phantom news.

fire breathing out his window pane,
in my dream, thought i'd gone insane.

fictitious facts dawned on me,
my heart scrambled for her recipe.
  
                          So i turned it all off and ran away,
           the twenty four hour cycle versus my ten pound nemesis,
                               can't bear this brunt day after day,
            redemption songs need some bliss.

trust in me as trust in you,
find my flaws....... don't perfect them.
a little boy, i'll re-main true,
cease the fire A-gainst the wind.
casualties can't be subdued,
mind the dice........but don't crap out.
there's no ice that seems to dew,
extinguish flames, round your bout.

                                     Be on my side, I'll be on your side.
                                     Be on my side, I'll be on your side.
                                     Be on my side, I'll be on your side.
                                     Be on my side, I'll be on your side.

TRF                                              TENtwoTW­OthousandSEVENTEEN

This land still sings your silent song
I chased it West under suspension bridges
In the empty whiskey bottles along Mississippi railroad tracks
In the sound of sugar sweet air in blue humid mornings
and the cool breath of absinthe sipped by the riverside
flanked by banana leaves.
Heard it in the breeze of swamp-side Cyprus trees, over swaying docks to rod iron French Quarter balconies, above the Bourbon street children drumming hymns of the Bayou's soul.

There is no wrong
in falling foolishly
for the things
that make you feel alive
as there is no greater feeling
than a beating heart
that still
simply
beats

i hate you,
i hate the way that you beat me when i come home late
i hate the way you yell at me when your wrong
i hate that you are always mad
i hate that you think you are superior to me
but i love you,
i love that you love me
i love that you gave me life
i love that you support me in everything i do
i love that you would give anything for me to be happy
but despite all of this love and hate,
i can't be your favorite daughter
i can't pretend to love you when at times i can't like you
i can't support you anymore
and most of all
i can't continue to live with your suffocating, pestering, raw, unperceptive demenor.
i'm sorry

the drummer boy’s
existence is emphasized
not during holidays
or birthdays
but rather onstage
where he’s the true conductor
of the band
I see him as the heart of the band
the lifeline which pumps strength
and keeps the blood flowing

because it is only through his heart
and his beats
when the strings know when to strum
when the cords know when to sing
when the keys know when to play

whenever he’s onstage
whenever the heart beats
it is not only the song which lives
but the band as well