The end of gardening

Oh delicate flower on the other side of a fence
so long have I coveted your scent
A white washed barrier and few feet of grass
seperate me from the memory of past

Oh delicate flower so many years ago
every fall you'd bloom while i admired a rose
I haven't seen you for a year at least
Soon to be made part of a bouquet at a feast

Throw away the gloves and shears
This is the end of gardening

God, its dark, its late

When you're in the mood to create
Its like reaching into a box
and finding the thing you wanted most
Looking at the shiny object
In complete admiration
and telling yourself in a quiet voice
its time i match or surpass it
And staring at a blank canvas
wishing it were wet
With blood, sweat, tears
and long lost fears
Of doubts and insecurities never ending
My pride and joy and bane in one
Morose feelings and cynical stammers
Sense of longing for sense of belonging
and giving my 2 cents
Making sense of life through someones eyes
When I'm in the mood to create

21 The Aftermath

As a tree spreads its branches
Leaves budding in all directions
So sits you, head in a book
Legs crossed and glasses on
2! parts in nature
1! on the concrete
Go! she seems to say
The night was not a blur
But the laughs came easy
The waitress was attractive
but my thoughts were not so sleazy
The aftermath, a shock wave
She gets up and walks away
If she saw me it was as a part of the background
I'll rock an Adios
A snap of the fingers
The drink's effect faded
But the buzz still lingers

the fight for my life

Only the first sailor could even relate
to how lonely i feel in my own skin
floating through time and taking up space
stuck in cyclone and tired of spin

A tear in the eyes sinks last memory
a flood of anger in the heart
The fear of loss, my vessel is capsizing
tends to rip my mind apart

The ship run aground, its time to abandon
Sweet sorrow and anger brought on by my strife
Last attention to orders escape from the captain
Cast anchors and life rafts, the fight for my life!

American Idol

Trapped in a body so ailing
nothing to say so we sing
hearts content and souls fill
birth heart beating, death heart still
A love so pure, a love so pure
a wish of last
2 days have passed
20 years too fast
Sing your melody for all to hear
and heal the wounds of sadness and fear
There will be only one victor tonight!
God bless the soul that empties-

its only the last time

Dont cry, dont cry, i swear he meant no harm

the close of 2 years well spent draw nigh
and 2 more from now you'll let a sigh
but 2 more 2 more and every year from then
will turn the edges of your mouth on end
and the way you feel now
is a testament to how
much you have loved and been loved in return
but just the tip of the iceburg the love you will earn
smile in fours because ones not enough
dont lock the doors to your heart to be tough
you fail and you fall and you get up again
but soon you won't fall
flat on your face, the tears well up
dripping like from a cracked cup
no, soon you'll find the strength to stand up and wipe away pain
its only the last time, from here on is gain.

MOOD red orange yellow green blue INDIGO violet

Whats there to say except start over?
when the time has come to pass
when the future came to fast
when everything around you is about to crash
And flowing from your mouth
are the same old lies and tricks
you tell yourself at night when you're in bed.
So much depends on a red set of lips
that stop your heart
that halt your tracks
that makes you take a second glance
Feet stuck in mud
life stuck in park
and getting outs as simple as shifting into drive
but harder than swimming out of quicksand
it takes a death of sorts to come back to life
three days in the belly of the beast
three wishes from a lamp
three strikes and your out
and then its time for a seventh inning stretch.

Splitting hairs until it comes undone

Its Christmas time again
the wind whipped her lips and his
stinging their faces and drying their tears
the two figures stood out in the cold
it was all he could do to keep from kissing her
and the gap between them widened
no more soft outlines in golden moonlight
just jagged edges, sharp feelings
and a tension
not to draw together but repel away
a reversal of polarities on a sub polar day
her eyes off his and their eyes apart
the ground filled his vision and she filled his thoughts
or the way she was
since her figure was a rapidly shrinking shape
in the fog of snow and increasing darkness
black and white and salt and ice
its sadness, its inability, its stubbornness
its irreconcilable,
it was love.
Its Christmas time again.

Roger and Amy

This is their story
Roger and Amy
born in the spring of '86
Though they were strangers
they soon would find out
that they were meant to find each other
Oh theyre neighbors
her parents moved in from Decatur
and in the summer they would swim together
By fall their best friends
and school would start then
First day of grade school in a rainstorm
Huddled together
eating their crackers
Roger turned to Amy and said "I love you"
Oh three simple words
he didn't know what he was saying
but it would stay with her until she...
The years they would pass
they grew up so fast
said all the people "They're inseparable"
But like all good things
Roger and Amy
would let their friendship fall on hard times
Oh its Highschool
Roger's in love with other girls
And though she wouldn't say it Amy was so sad
Its winter formal
both now were seniors
and Roger was asking just one person
Its winter formal
Amy done waiting
said yes to the boy in her math class
Oh its Love
Amy and her boy would cut a rug
and though he wouldn't say it Roger was so mad
And two years later
in a Ford Ranger
that boy would finally pop the question
She called up Roger
to tell the good news
that she and her man were getting married
Oh he faked it
Roger said congratulations
he had wasted time and couldnt hold it back
So on a spring day
before the wedding
Roger and Amy ate together
He said "remember"
"On that first day"
"When i told you that i loved you"
Oh the silence
Amy started to cry then
She said "you're way too late, and I am getting married"
In his depression
He started thinking
about all the good times they had growing up
And how he squandered
his time with Amy
there would not be a happy ending
Oh the summer
the time when they became not quite lovers
Roger and Amy would never speak again

Nothing to write home about

Light light light
I want my light to shine
A resounding wave to flow out
and let my voice be heard
Write write write
Lord let me find the right
let me sleep at night
so i can find delight
Why cant i write write write
of find my light light light?
Up and down and green and black
houses and chairs and leavs all around
and books and pens and music and time and blue and red
and months and states of being and towers encased in crystal
and mice and men and glue and birdhouses and checks and cameras
and days at the beach, and nights at the beach, and life in the suburbs
and blessings and curses and ups and downs and scales and measures
and life and death and dust to dust and heaven and hell and beginning and end
and love and hate and records and baseball cards and shoes and papers
nothing to lie about, nothing to write about.

smokey sunday

A flame is dancing in the desert just like always,
not a halloween as passed without a fire
and from out of the flames comes new life
Flowers will bloom and the rivers will flow
But the fire will have left its mark.
And burn so bright it hurts too look.
And rage so hot it hurts to touch
A girl was dancing in the flames
and loves so much it hurts much too much
her hair was free and so was he
to burn to a crisp.

emo approved first person

Can you see beyond the tip of your own nose?
or has your ego so clouded
your judgement, so touted
is your knowlege and i bet
you think that your tastes are well honed.

Well here is the truth so understand where im coming from
you've lost touch with the audience
as a result of your bias
toward things your own age
and older, sing songs of your praise
to the past for a raise
and maybe even convince yourself some of its good.

Its clear from your voice
that by your own choice
you ignored the possibility of letting it in
its like you took a look at the cover
and wrote down your review
so others who trust
you will write off this work
and fall into the trap of self righteous assurance
that all that is good, has already happened
and everything new is just a tribute to them.

You played the pied piper for too long and now
ill make it my goal to free them from your spell
and show them what they missed and what new is to come
all from the guise of emo approved first person.

looking through not looking: the lovesong of the loveless

On my back
the streets are slick this time of year
an anticpated first rain has caused me some pain
looking up to the heavens
and finding more rain

And puddles expanding
with every last drop
and children splashing
in every last puddle
a war has been waged that only streetlights will stop

Strange things happen when you lie horizontal
like screeching tires
avoiding my body
it would ruin their day

Theres room for two out here on the pavement
though no one has joined just yet
So i'll wait a little longer
patience is a virtue, but impatience has its moments

Time is fluid and simple on the day of a storm
Its dark and then light and then dark again
its night and then day and then night again
but the sun never rises or sets

My clothes are soaked straight throught to my skin
its cold
and its wet
but its comfort lying down

Strange things happen when you lie horizontal
when your covered in water
but exposed to the rain
Theres not a feeling or word that will help me explain
how it feels on my back, on a road, in the rain, in pain, waiting for answers, waiting for partners, waiting to get run over, waiting for streetlights, waiting to wait, and for what?
More Rain.

the happiest place on earth

I wrote this one a long time ago and i when i re-read it, i was taken back to how i felt on that day and for that reason i think this poem is worth something.

the happiest place on earth

I swear i'm the ugliest person alive
before me the world looked better
Sometimes there's nothing for me to strive
And theres nothing that could change that in this letter

Truly devastating, this state of being
Depressed and cold, a gray overtone
nothing as bright as it should be
never a sign of hope will i see

I'm drowning in the happiest place on earth
But no one will know 'til it's too late

The Fireworks light up the sky
fresh faces of lovers all intertwined
They draw closer together
like as if they were cold
And whisper their thoughts to the ones that they hold

And while riding high on the afterglow of the night
they still grasp each other and smile in delight
Yet her I sit fat and alone
Not a person to care for or call on the phone

20 years minus a revelation

Brown lacquer finish
with smudges and handprints.
My guitar.

Worn frets dirty
and old strings out of tune
My father's.

Sweet sounds aloud
played with care and love
My aspirations.

Slammed door shut
keep the world outside
My studio.

Sweet sorrow played
lungs fill with air and exhale
My regret.

Warm sleepless nights
Mind and eyes kept on hourly watch
My shame.

Long lasting music
Songs in the shower sung unconscious
My redemption.

Midday Blues and Other Jazz Musings

Stomp my foot to the beat
as the sounds rise to my ears like heat from the ground
you can feel the musician in the notes
every strain from the horn denotes a pain in his life
Hang my head in disgust
in this oppressive heat your woes seem a little worse
i feel sick to my stomach but its not caused by illness
and every tick on this keyboard is a beat of my heart
Fold my arms to appear engaged
its getting harder and harder fein a smile for strangers
though i doubt it fooled anyone anyhow, anyone who cared
every time i fake a laugh i forget how it feels to want to
Raise my fist to take a stand
I wont let it go on like this,
having every ray of light blocked by a grey cloud
this year, this moment, this verse will be different
ill wipe the rain from my eyes see life for what it is
yet every time i make this promise i fear the inevitable
you can only bend a note so far before it isnt right
Maybe ill just stomp my foot to the beat

Happy Alone

Two birds in love and not wanting to be selfish
offered their song to me so i would join in the chorus
I politely declined citing my being content
with the melody of my life
"I'll sing my song solo, until the right one hears it"
Only wishing the best, one bird took offense
to my refusal, and insisted that I look for love before its too late,
"Too late for what?" i say, "I'm young and not in a hurry."
"You'll miss the chance if you continue complacent" the one bird said
"You need to be certain of nothing and live in the now"
Live in the now? Don't you realize I am?
Right now i'm happy alone, maybe not forever
but for now
With that the two birds became distracted again
with their own love song to argue their point.

Love, love, love (introduction to the notion)

Its the feeling you cannot ignore
When the world is so small and limitless
Smile on the face of mankind
The color is in the air, the taste is on your tounge
Its both unspoken and understood
And anticipation is at a peak
Because the end of summer excites its emotions
heightened by the promise of new life
Love
It sweetens the air and ignores hardship
More than worth all the trouble it causes
And im almost there, i can feel it

Brillo Sin Rayas

She told me to get a good nights sleep
"Clear your mind and call me in the morning"
Disagreements and fights led me to this place
So have a ball while you can
cause play time's over
and growing up is near
You can't understand it
and i won't explain my actions here
Why is talking to you like pulling teeth?
like trying to hold your breath til you sink
We've been holding on to something gone
So make escape while you can
I think im making a comeback
don't come with me

Love is Confusion is Love.....

In the habit of old time tradition
I feel I must tell of another condition
which plagued me now since I was quite young
and perhaps only hurts like my arm getting stung
by a spider who spun her web of perdition
trapping a boy in an act of contrition

Love it seems will escape for the moment
but allow me this time for a frustrated slow vent
life would be easier if not for the wanting
to find someone special, a sense of belonging
yet somehow we think that through gifts and warm kisses
our troubles wont matter with the promise of a Mrs.

Like sheep to a slaughter we are drawn to our fate
to depress and confess 'til our love turns to hate
and we think to ourselves, "what has happened to us?"
while we play stupid games and deceive for their trust
dating, I think, is just a series of lies
as we make ourselves out to be more than just guys

So "what is the point?" a smart person would ask
"If we try to find love but must wear a mask?"
"The point" I would say with fervor and conviction
"Is we all strive for happiness though writing a fiction"
But don't let technicalities keep you at bay
Because I wouldn't have it any other way

Plus I'm just venting and not making much sense
like painting a carpet or vacuuming a fence