Buzzing drinks, this purple sky
shrink around the orange street lights.
You told me once, it might be nice
          to know what the look
          of a winning hand looked like.

Cliched sighs were my reply.
Kept me from at least two lies.
Lines of Alaise, I'm swinging blind.
I'll play your best cue as it lies.

               Sing something sweet to me
               Raise your brown eyes to meet our city.
               My blue ones always sink;
               when the chorus kicks in
                    you look so pretty.

               I know you're not right for me.
               And, baby, I'm no good for anybody.
               But at least we share some needs
and the midnight view from the bridge on Orange Steet.

Stumbling steps and shaky laughs
and creasing lines in clasping hands.
I told you once I'd take a chance
          to see the sly curve
          of your wine-soaked shy glance

Buzzing signs, citrus street lights
Let's fall in love with urban blight.
Our voices loud, we're walking blind.
So here's my best play, one last time.

               Sing something sweet to me.
               Close my blue eyes--I love this city.
               Your brown eyes sing to me.
               We're the chorus now, babe--
                    you're bright, but I'm witty.

               Know it's been a ******* week.
               And I know I'm no good for anybody.
               But let's still our shaking knees
    and kiss a new year on the bridge on Orange Street.

A small pebble is placed in the stream. The pebble is carried away.
A large pebble is placed in the stream. The water flows around it.

It hurts more to succumb to the darkness
Than to resist its emotional drag,
To give into the negativity
And accept the longevity
Of that damp, moldy, abrasive rag,
Than to accept and see the Likeness.

Accept the overwhelming Embrace,
Rather than the darkness of that place.
Overcome. Claim what’s overdue:
The Love, the Peace, and the Grace.

There is a bubble in my head
A place where nobody goes
Inside my head there a haven
My place of which nobody knows

I go there in my darkest hours
When I feel I have lost all power
There I feel safe in silence in
My place of which nobody knows

I can’t show what’s inside
For I feel the need to hide
I like my space in
My place of which nobody knows

When others taunt and jest
I never protest
But I am screaming in
My place of which nobody knows

Nassau
Warm smiles under rusted hulls,
mailboats smoking,
lobster red cruise ship tourists,
back to the islands they go

Highborn Cay
White cloth walled gazebos,
bikinis and tan.
Loungers on pearl beaches,
lovers, the sea and sand

Compass Cay
A pirates place.
Rustic docks in crystal blue.
A meeting place, restless souls
Pathways and secrets on a tropical island.
Oh, frolicking sharks? In cuddle piles.

Staniel Cay
Rural and lovely,
Pink and blue shops, take your pick.
Haggling fishermen in front of a quaint little pub.  
far from home, further from troubles.
Locals tell me god blesses me a lot.
The church has the best plot of land.