All I want is to sail to those far-off lands
Where ships are freedom, where sailors catch the winds
With canvas nets in their coarse and salty hands,
Adventure around corners, and nothing binds
Us to those old worlds that we have left behind.
I want to see the sun rise, brand new each day,
And open new pathways like maps in my mind,
While the deck and the sea beneath me do sway.

The ocean's a goddess, a temptress of men
Who never could keep their feet on solid ground
But rather sought to wander, and now and then
Chase after a daydream, and soon they had found
Their hearts and their eyes filled with love of the sea.
Thus a thousand such souls were stolen by thee.

This, no song of an ingenue,
This, no ballad of innocence;
This, the rhyme of a lady who
Followed ever her natural bents.
This, a solo of sapience,
This, a chantey of sophistry,
This, the sum of experiments,--
I loved them until they loved me.

Decked in garments of sable hue,
Daubed with ashes of myriad Lents,
Wearing shower bouquets of rue,
Walk I ever in penitence.
Oft I roam, as my heart repents,
Through God's acre of memory,
Marking stones, in my reverence,
"I loved them until they loved me."

Pictures pass me in long review,--
Marching columns of dead events.
I was tender, and, often, true;
Ever a prey to coincidence.
Always knew I the consequence;
Always saw what the end would be.
We're as Nature has made us----hence
I loved them until they loved me.

Whiskey works in waves
I saw something hazy, a light
Making it's way down to the shoreline
I followed and took two more shots
Along the lakeside
One was to warm me up
And the other to make me believe
I couldn't drown in anything
Besides a body of water
Yet even with my feet
Firmly planted on the beach
My arms flailed above me
I coughed up seaweed
And my flooded lungs
Began to sing a broken chantey
"Take down the mast, o!
Tear down the rigging!
Tell me! Tell me!
What is a life worth living?"

I met her mother today
I was nervous to do it
I wasn't sure what to say
What would I do if I blew it?

"Be yourself," she says
Be myself? says my head
Now I'm thinking of Pez...
And I'm thinking I'm dead

But I walked up the stairs
Took a left at the top
I awaited a bear
Sipping an otterpop

Her mom was so nice
Called me "from Subway"
And I took the advice
Took the intro my way

Met her grandma and auntie
In the downstairs, grey room
I prepared a sea chantey
But we left, so no boom

Her mom met my dad
I hugged my girlfriend goodbye
She makes me so glad
There's new life in my eye

Song Filled Hour ...


Magenta archangel
Answer this prayer with lantern fly
light , barn owl night call and whippoorwill
chantey
Sing to me ....

The Madness of blended reality, is confidently marching through my mind.
I could not resist the sweet sound of this haunting Muse.
She sang her dismal songs, which shook me something fierce.
Astounding words which resonate feelings I've never mustered.

Now comes the crazy, the loud bellowing of endless chords.
I'm running, clasping my ears ever so tightly, to no avail
The chantey is banging in the walls of sanity, louder and louder.
Tossing and turning, wide eyed and insane, her song goes on.

Even in my dreams, which have become their own nightmares, sing.
I cannot escape this tune, marching to the gates of some type of truth.
What am I missing, and shall silence elude me in my descent of ill will.
I roll back my eyes, to see the darkness play with such fever.

Hopeless, I give in, I let it play, over and over and over again.
I allow this cursed song to grace this shameful and unforgivable self.
For a moment, I try to believe it will end, knowing full well, its a lie.
Now, repeating with ominous terror, she sings louder, I began to crack.

Kindred balsam trails
Red rose convocations 'neath
Chestnut Knights
Swallows in Tangerine sky
Late night fires mingle with
Loblolly leviathans
Stellar captivations
Coonhounds bay for twilight
recognition
Where Mockingbird musicians trill
reverent evening chantey* ..

Barred Owl , Nighthawk ambient harmony ..The crash of Shellcracker
over smoky waters , the footsteps of Gray Fox and Blue Heron
audible along the shallows .. Wind swept expressions carry through statued marsh , Tree frogs , Katydids and Cicadas fill the young nightfall with varied chantey as white stars cross the impeccable , woodland firmament ..

Gray hardwood Creek saga , hillside natural harmonies
Woodland musicians and warriors blended into
Coweta flora with piedmont songsters
Sip sip cha shree mockingbird melody
Whoo -reet bobwhite chantey from floor to -
windamere operas brushing live oak canopies
Land blushing with evening blue , stippled in
magenta and lavender cirrus sunset* ...

Who will hear me sob, this weep like mortal melodies
This woe of songs if this toot so ever heard
Not by such hertz or watts, but by cosmic chantey
...mortal melody.

How I wish for a song to sing:
A perfect melody,
A taste of spring.
I want a tune to reach my ears
And make my eyes
Well up with tears.

On rain-soaked streets,
I'd spend my days,
And I'd rattle through
The morning haze;
From the bouncing dream
Of a comforting song,
I'd turn my gaze skyward
As I walked along.

But now, it seems
I often can count
The streams that amount
To a deafening, dull sensation,
And whenever a song should reach my lips,
Its worth is lost from my imagination.

Oh, give me a mellow little tune;
A soothing chorus of flowers in bloom.
Or offer an epic romantic chantey,
The kind of a rhythm to suit my fancy.

Sing me a song of summertimes gone,
And give me the voice to carry it along.
Bring to my heart,
Wherever I may be,
A warm air,
A rousing melody,
In perfect harmony,
Grant me my wish,
It's all I ask,
Give me a song to sing!