Thursday, February 27, 2014

Letting Go 

You can see the darkness
in my eyes and smile
a haunting sorrow shadows me
on the long and lonely miles 

Riding down these back roads
past rivers, farms, and fields
running from hard memories
and all the pain I feel 

These shadows ride on with me
they keep me company
if I can't learn to let them go
I never will be free
I never will be free 

Trees blur by so quickly
like the ghosts of my mistakes
the rhythm of each passing mile
beats out every heartache 

I've ridden with these ghosts so long
their nearness seems so sweet
like the whisper of a summer's day
or a promise I thought I'd keep 

These shadows ride on with me
they keep me company
if I can't learn to let them go
I never will be free
I never will be free 

The road keeps rising up ahead
and the sun keeps shining down
I'm trying hard to let you go
when I feel you all around 

You're like these ghosts that ride with me
you're like those haunting trees
if I ride on and never stop
can I leave those memories 

 These shadows ride on with me
they keep me company
if I can learn to let them go
maybe now I can be free
maybe now I can be free 

27 February 2014

Friday, February 21, 2014

The Echo Of Your Homeless Heart

(No More Sad Reveries)
Looking through my lonely heart
into the sad reveries
an empty road behind me darkens
and once again
I'm chasing the echo
of your homeless heart
~ the echo of your homeless heart ~ 

Past that ancient battleground
where broken hearts lie scattered
the bleeding scarred remains
decay of yesterday
back against a wall of time
lives the echo
of your homeless heart 

I'm chasing the echo
of your homeless heart.

21 February 2014

Friday, January 10, 2014

Don't Tell Me
Hey, you!
Over there, across the room,
yes, YOU.
I see you.
Don't tell me
of your boredom
~ there's nothing to do ~
or of your dismay
at Life's dismal details
Don't tell me of your gray salesman's days
when the spark leaves
and no one returns your calls;

Don't tell me
when your career slides away
in a rush of flooding waters
leaving you to find
a different shore;
Don't tell me of your everlasting
anger thrown out at the world
and the mean people
who've crossed your path;

Don't tell me
 the horrors and evil and the trivia
of your small small world
as it swallows you
and you feel down;

Don't tell me
of your false lovers
and your lonely nights
bathed in the solitude of stupidity;

Don't tell me
about your disappointments
when someone lets you down
or ignores you
or does not hear you
or hurts you
or fails you
in some imagined way. 

Do you hear me?
Stop looking at me
as if you know me
as if you feel my pain
as if my life and yours
just because you look like me.
Don't tell me. 

I am busy, breathing.


10 January 2014

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Ode to Imbibing 

My heart is driven slowly,
my soul cannot resist;
a smoky gaze
thru music's haze
my soul so softly kissed; 

uisce beatha* delights me,
and silken draws me in;
his ancient swirls
and lustful curls
another night begins; 

again I find the music
it swells my heart so full;
tequila knows
her silver glows
surrenders to the pull; 

with morning comes the coffee,
at lunch a sip of beer;
with midnight's hour
let bourbon's power
release the dreamer's fear.

* uisce beatha is Irish Celtic for whiskey; pronounced "whiskey bah" and means "water of life"

Friday, November 15, 2013

mantles me with grief,
realization cold and hard,
for Silence is the rule,
there is no breaking through
~ Fall In Line ~
my very breath of life
my words
in your presence,
stopped cold
by the ice in your eyes
and the turn of your heart
~ Fall In Line ~
I have to wonder, as I wander
lost on streets so dark and still,
~ Fall In Line ~
walk alone
so alone
alone I walk
as midnight fades
into memories made
of solitude and pain;
melancholia in nostalgia
for once so tightly bound
no shadows cast
no sliver came between,
no icy stare
no Silence demanded,
when only shadows come
away away they steal
every rose colored memory
of beauty and light
when breathing was easy
and my words were free
now all is stolen
stolen away
I am left with my empty footsteps
and just an echoed hum
can you ever
for I can never
~ Fall In Line ~

15 November 2013

Friday, September 27, 2013

Waiting For My Second Line 

When the Parade has passed
and the cheers fade,
when the party ends
on promises made,
then I'll come along,
then I'll dance. 

I lie in the dark and they come,
always the same echoes,
the same strains ~  

No matter where or when I rest,
from the cradle right on through
my darkened fevered childhood
on through nights alone or in
a swept togetherness off and on,
in hospitals and at home,
always always every night
I hear it ~ 

Like you hear music through thin walls
or from way down the street,
or across waters calm and dark,
always muted just beyond earshot
just beyond reality,
wafting within the darkness swirling,
kissing my ears maddeningly close yet
just not there;
always always every night
I hear the music ~ 

I thought it was a haunting,
following me,
no matter where I slept ~ 

The darkness brought it to my edge,
the soft sad strains of a sinking ship's band
merging into and with jaunty unknown melodies
like an enveloping wave takes your sanity,
from weeping violins to some honky-tonk sound
or hurdy-gurdy never heard
in my wakened world,
with background chattering and clattering
far away,
this darkened party of ghosts;
always always every night
I hear them ~ 

Confusion reigns in darkness;
why and wherefrom,
if not haunted ~ 

Each night I strain to hear some full detail,
a note, a word, a chord alone;
only the distant brass clamoring
and sweet melodies floating
and fading further away,
just beyond the night,
but now
I know who they are ~

I know them all,
those who wait for me,
who will dance and sing
when I arrive,
they wait for me,
to celebrate me;
they play for me every night
my beloved band of ghosts ~ 

always I am hearing them,
and I am waiting
for my Second Line.


27 September 2013