YESTERDAY was a wet sorrow fallen from a leaf
and I picked up the pieces of your broken heart
I thought a skip or two from the hip of my heart
would correct the limp of your soul and spirit
Now you, my friend, have serious damage of life
(I commend the spirit of your endeavor lover)
But now I refrain from the flame of destruction
but love the teeter-totter of fatalistic love
(hush my love just bite the lip of fate for us)
and now my shoes have lost their sole —
and souls of those that walk without so much
begin to regret the price of one-for-two
Pretty woman…(yes my love) pretty woman
I cannot deny the love that keeps my orbit
Pretty women…(so my love?) pretty women
I run in circles trying to find your reason
run I do when my lungs collapse from denial
Let my sorrow burn the fields of flowers
from your maddening sickness in this season
:::::
Monthly Archives: November 2013
THE DANCE OF CONFESSION
COLORS OF CONFETTI
COLORS of confetti and streamers of dreams
won’t you let me taste your joyous laughter
I have a machine so shiny and wondrous
let me land it here and enjoy your city
What would your world say if I spoke hello
shatter economies — making it harder for the Pope
The message I want to give goes against the grain
So I have to say just flow with the moment – I’ll go
But I want to stay for a while
and spread my love to the world
but remember I do what you did —
to the last one who landed here
:::::
THAT LAND FROM BEYOND
When the wind bites the heart of that lonely lover
and the living have gone to bed and escape into dreams
you walk that empty wet path on Bourbon Street
away from jagger eyes slacken smiles the blues pull you in
Mother, should you have killed me
the winds wouldn’t be biting now
I want to climb back into that time
reverse the walk and bleeding talk
Confused child where do you come from?
I come from a land so far away from here
my ticket says, “From the deep beyond”
Won’t you take me back
To that land from beyond
I want to spread a lot of love
Wont’ you take me back
To that land from beyond
I have something to tell you
So I take that walk again — beer stained stones
sultry notes of blue and pain filling the air
And I don’t mind your bite anymore mistress wind
the pain is better than the kiss of empty death
:::::
MYSTIC WOMAN
HEY MYSTIC woman
what spell you casting now
Caught your third eye
last night in a deep dream
I was floating on a cloud
watching the wheels turn round
You gonna spread your charm
across the horizon like atomics
I just want to catch your charm
and wear it on my neck chain —
burn a hole thru my heart
and into that deep thriving soul
:::::
SOMETIMES I DREAM
sometimes i dream of a love because i am
existing for that wispy fragrant moment
release me pain — from your withered hands
fall i shall upon the petals of my rose
with her i shall attain summer in winter
spring in fall and skinkisses at night
bring me sweethardness softbitter moments
gossermar thoughts bobbing floating passion
— // —
AND WHERE DOES THAT MOMENT FLEE
AND WHERE does that moment flee
to me i clearly can see —
it is always hidden within me
behind the walls of my fortress
beyond the moat of my castle
it shines within concealed darkness
And when i see such beauty in life
the bird within her nest singing
slumbering giants of white floating…
then i know clearly i see
that love and life exist
but protect i must from me
— // —
BY WHAT MEASURE
BY what measure
to determine love
Surely not during mingle
but upon separation — I say
Then only does the heart —
feel what it has not
The mortal wound of happiness
— // —
TRAGEDY
Tragedy — a misplaced arrow
should never pierce the heart
but follow the path of the do’er
lest decent souls perish
:::::
AND IF I KISSED…
And if I kissed the scar
upon your soul
soothed away
the oceans of pain
Could the light of sun
touch your spirit
And if by chance — love
visited your home
in the fire
Could reason be enough —
to find my love
— // —
I REFRAIN FROM THE THOUGHT
I REFRAIN from the thought
that death of love is for naught
that shores ebb away
from the tides of luna
All without meaning or thought
Let me dream of a reason
if I may have eons to think
that logic dictates feeling —
tears are salt and not honey
Is life bitter or death sweet?
— // —
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