When two black wheels crashed into four
Two legs stretched out behind a silver door
He lay, pinned down on the dusty road
Clawing at her face in vain, he choked.

My conscience asks, "What troubles you more?"
"The mask of anger that she wore?
The circle of people watching the show?"

A split girl of two sides,
A dilemma risen out of it achieved.
One of daring, brave, fearless adventuring,
The other quiet, hidden, with polite welcome gesturing.
The void of the person whole,
Of yet who she is.
Is yet to be consoled,
The irony of this venture.
Is a split of another,
Will either win?
Or be together whole?

I was once a boy who believed in words dipped in magic
Carefully coated with sugar
From a distance, they shimmered
whispered fog in its wake
surgically dipped into your heart at hummingbird speed
these sweet tender words were easy to swallow
however leaves a burning hole in your chest once it finds shelter in your body.
Even though your lips produced sweet words
I could never get the sour taste out of my mouth
The most you could have done was give me something to wash it down with:
the leftover tears in Samantha Thompson’s eyes
above Wedgefield’s polluted night sky
somewhere in the middle of an empty field inside his pickup truck
between the words I’m and Sorry
the cleanest and most deceitful of them all
I doubted every word.
I never cared much for the empty spaces between the lines of college-ruled paper
They are only meant to be filled with even emptier phrases
If I could, I wouldn’t fill in any spaces in the time we were together
It would only make our story much more incredulous
Adding more would make us less real.
Two hearts in love need no words
but in reality, you did most of the talking
The ***** blanket of faith
is a cocoon of words shared only between you and him.
We, however, were alien to this Earth
We dissolved amongst the shadows of light
produced from lampposts, only to be thrown back into the light
whether or not you wanted to show me who you really were
You always fancied yourself in artificial lighting compared to natural lighting
Fearing the natural light would show the colors you only kept to yourself.
Lovebug ran to each light as quickly as he could
for these lampposts can only cover so much of the unknown
We’ll be together forever
He ran to each one until he was alone
Until he couldn’t find himself
Each shadow that was passed before can be seen, traced
however his new reflection is indiscernible
You can try your hardest to look into dry puddles
only to find something that is not so concrete.
The only words worth believing in are the ones that are burnt slowly afterward
Entre deux coeurs qui s’aiment, nul besoin de paroles.
But no matter how much the lampposts grow taller,
or how the spaces between ruled-paper continue to dance, the word
love will always be the easiest word to swallow
but the hardest to digest once it rots in the thick of your stomach.

Fight back tears, we joyous human beings have to do.

With life being as unknown as it is, it puzzles me that we know so much about pain without knowing really anything at all.
Make sense yet?
Well, pain really doesn’t.
But it hurts.

So why do we have to experience pain?

It’s an interesting and frustrating concept.
When you think of how many people are on the Earth, and how many of them could be facing their own personal pain, what do we do?
People face their own personal pain in many forms.
Crime, the loss of a family member, disease, love.
All of those hurt.

Pain is an evil temptress.
Because she comes in all different shapes and different sizes.
She comes in different capes with different disguises.
And she affects everyone in one way or the other.
And it hurts.

Pain is hard to swallow.
And that’s because sometimes, pain is the dagger,
The dagger that is too busy being plunged into your heart for you to swallow it.
And that hurts.

Pain is something we think we can overcome.
Because, if we’ve already had so much in our lives, why would we need more?
Why can’t we just have our sunny day?
Our clean bill of health?
Our relationship we try so hard for?
Pain is something we curse because even through the constant struggle of pain, we can’t seem to find happiness.
We can’t seem to win.
And that hurts.

But we spend so much of our days imagining winning.
We enjoy the splendor of happiness, the warmth of joy.
We can see ourselves playing in the field of dreams.
We are past our struggles.

But then pain rears its ugly head.
It reminds us of our imaginations.
It reminds us that we are still immersed far within her grasp.
Pains reminds us of one thing:

Some people are just not meant to win the big one.

And that’s what hurts the most.

under the aparent darkness,
the nacar red of your lips
give me ligth.

between the tender and quiet
kisses of fire, you absorved
my darkness

there was no magic, it was
just that, two dark beings
absorving ligth.

a beast with a loewe head,
desolated, tormented, for
his pain.

between the lost and desdain,
and with desire sticked
to his skin.

the ligth in absolut darkness,
years looking that skin of silk,
those lips sweet as honney.

the silky and perfumated lips,
of a beautiful shadow, a lioness
in the dark.

and who will know, only darkness,
about that silk skin, that give ligth,
in a dark nigth.

a loewe, the lost descendant,
looking the way, and to that silk skin,
of honey gold and fire.

a lion lost in shadows, looking that
skin, that as divine grace, or gifth
of friendly gods.

found me, catch and love me
in the shadows, rigth before dawn,
giving life to the blackened heart.


and the flux of life, of strength,
to resist mi strokes, controling
herself tenderly.

never scared of my roarings,
only the beautiful fire, she give me,
with her nacar red lips.

her femmale lips, a beast, beautiful
with her skin of silk, perfumated and
HERMOSA,  A MUSE IN THE SHADOW.

tenderly resisting to the attacks of a
beast, thirsty of her, her ***, her blood, kissing
her skin inch by inch.

the HERMOSA shadow, with silk skin,
and nacar red lips, resist even thou, she
wanted to lay next to this beast

thirsty of her, her body, her etternal legs,
her *** of MUJER HERMOSA,
the beautiful and sweet lioness, that was mine
in absolut darkness..

He* loves you still! ,even you two were desperate
Now that You learn and beginning to love me more
i can't love you back just like the way he does
because I do love *" Hymn! ... "

Ruby Jeffords was cutting a rug
To the music played by hubby Bub.
Four guitars and a moonshine jug,
Bass fiddle made from a wash tub.
And the music they play is not
Headed out for Carnegie Hall.
While it may not be sophisticated
Everyone is having a ball.

There’s two stepping and stomp
And a lot of big cowboy hats.
It’s a country and western romp
And it don’t get better than that.
The fiddle player is sawing
Like he’s cutting a cord of wood.
The onlookers are clapping hands.
They’d all join in if they could.

And the music they play is not
Headed out for Carnegie Hall.
While it may not be sophisticated
Everyone is having a ball.

The dance floor is so crowded
Some people just sit this one out.
But they add to the joy and spirit
Because they clap loud and shout.
They feel the music and tap toes
Falling into the music and beat.
Bub playing, and Ruby dancing
Everybody tapping their feet.

Ruby Jeffords was cutting a rug
To the music played by hubby Bub.
Four guitars and a moonshine jug,
Bass fiddle made from a wash tub.
And the music they play is not
Headed out for Carnegie Hall.
While it may not be sophisticated
Everyone is having a ball.

Blood drops and rosy petals are,
As are Sunsets and summer skies.
Too, your lipstick and my beating heart,
Two blushing faces,
Two crying eyes.

Your long coat and wavy hair are,
As is winter's warm demise.
Too, by firesides which warm weary hearts,
I see that color graces
Too our breathless sighs.

Two shades of the same longing.
Two heartbeats: yours and mine.

I want to learn to whistle
Like my daddy did.
I wanted to learn it since
I was a little kid
You know, you put *******
Just inside your lips.
No, not the whole fingers
Just the very tips.

With that kind of whistle
I could stop a fight
Or call a taxi to me
On a rainy night.
I could whistle while applauding
Let performers know
Whatever they were doing
I enjoyed it so.

It works well during sports
Like a referee’s call.
The way I whistle nobody
Would hear it at all.
If I had a doggie I could call him
Then I whistle really loud
And he would come running
I would be so proud.

And of course I could tell
Somebody walking by
That they were pretty hot and
They had caught my eye.
But if I try to do that now,
They have to be
Not further than a couple
Of feet from me.

You’ve heard that kind of whistle
In shows on your TV.
I wish that kind of whistle
Could come from me.
So, I wish I could whistle
Like my daddy could.
Maybe someday I will learn.
Knock on wood.