on a stage, guitars strumming a tune that
can only be hummed, for it has no verses
the songwriters, their tongues entwined,
joined as one, they can speak no words

but the crowd roars its favor,, sheds its de light, stomping and whooping it up, making
all the necessary noises, of two tongues, yes’m, entwining

kinda like a kissing, a little of hissing too,,
got its own rhythm, even the noises rhyming,
a rock n roll ballad with country western
mixed in, some say it sounds like Joan Baez
singing **** Jagger, or an Avett Brothers
serenade

words need tongues for formaytion,
tongues needed to speak, but absent
a common language,tongues do what
tongues do best,
intertwining, combining, licking,
making love noises that requires
two to be
heard
fulfilling
taste of two
blending
and we
though
silent
pronounce
ourselves
as one,
the loveliest
unspoken
vocabulary

Junior soprano mourned the ungrateful ticker
Hank pondered over the cold cold one
Yet neither
Kept theirs in a cage
Like yer man Cassablancas
Which was thrown in the ocean
Dragged down by the anchors
That he forged in life
Like our friend Ebenezza
Who thought the merry
Should have theirs
Skewered by the season
Poe got grassed up by his
Two sometimes beat tempestuous
Like **** and Liz
The Aztecs used to show it to you at the death
It will surely explode if you smoke too much ****
Solzhenitsyn summed it up there's nowt more to it
The border twixst good and evil
Runs right through it.

Here comes the chosen one
Back for another go
The disc beard man
Has laid them low
So he had to depart

For Canaan calls them home
A new land by the water
That they might grow in strength
That they might  be what they aught to

Led from the desert harsh
To the haven
Of the bay
To begin again in hope
To bask in the nurturing  rays
Of the soon glory days

So King David has returned
And that fits
For he is
Between Moses and Christ
To these poor Evertonians

Last seen approaching low
At the bottom o Shaw St
Riding side saddle on his ***
He'll be there by this evening.

It’s hidden in my heart,
Behind lock and key,
Always present,
Yet never free.

Spoken into existence so long ago,
As bridges burned ever so slow.
I didn’t mean to bury these dreams so deep,
But in fragile spaces, they could not sleep.

I couldn’t let them define who I was,
For fear of a mold,
Shaped by others' expectations
Of what they thought was right for me.

They were ever so close—
A whisper of truth, a flicker of light—
But really, they were far,
Out of reach, hidden in the night.

Now, it doesn’t matter;
The dream stays locked in my heart.
It cannot escape; it cannot exist.
The time has passed; it’s too late for this.

It takes two to want this dream to breathe,
But why does its captivity still grieve me?
Why does it staying locked feel so wrong?
A quiet ache that lingers so long.

Maybe, just maybe, he’ll want this too,
And in one shared moment,
He’ll break through,
Unlocking the door, setting us both free,
A shared vision of love and legacy.

But I don’t think he will;
That fear runs deep,
A shadowed truth I hold and keep.

And so I whisper to myself,
“It’s the divine’s will,
A path unseen, a space to fill.”

Yet still, the lock presses heavy on my heart,
Its weight a reminder of dreams kept apart.
I wonder, I hope, but silence remains,
And in the quiet, I feel the pain.

I wish for him to know
The profundity of my affection

I wish he could behold
The exuberance he bestows upon me
With little more than his smile

I desire for him to comprehend
The fervor he has rejuvenated within me

I wish he could feel
The heat of the blaze
He has artfully reignited

I hoped he would heed
The harmonious melodies of my heart
Yet, regrettably,
his senses
Are but tuned
to mere echoes

I placed myself in her arms
Grateful
to be in her presence
It been so long
since I've spoken
To my dear
Mother Earth

Broken
In a world
that refuses
To fix
Me