connecting*the*dots

she spoke in circles
yet was as straight as could be
made me think about what once was
how i almost landed on one knee
her laugh is still infectious
her smile shines on
another hour of this
and i’m sure to be gone
dragged in
and kicked smoothly out
the smoke fills up my head
how did i land on this deep route?
i’m not sure where i am
or where this will go
but i am damn sure
that it is much better to know
that she still has those eyes…
that smile…
wow.

the tears are coming down
past the long and disconcerting frown
nowhere to go
nowhere to hide
just a valley full of lines
aged over the years,
carved out
to pick up the tears
and move on to the next…

a storybook text.

her heart was so pure,
aged by the harshness of the wind,
one, two, three…

i was pinned.

how could her beauty and pureness escape me?
what was I thinking?
how could she date me?
why did she love me?
how could it be?

i was naive to the game
when she called out my name
i pretended to feel pain

learning to be what no one could provide
going where i wouldn’t be able to hide
out in the open rain
i became what i knew i wasn’t…

tamed.

a swing in the path
of an oncoming train
a down pouring rain
a love lost in vain
but what i can do is steer straight onwards and discover
that these dried up tears have coincided with another
maybe at a different time
certainly in the past
but these tears are not alone
they’re not alone, yet alas…

she is not even in my sights
yet i see her so clear
the sweetness of her voice
the purity of her tears
why is it i that must be the romantic at heart
discovering virtue one day after the part
of the role i auditioned for
has now been given up…
i’m late on the scene
she drinks from another cup

onwards and upwards is the new battle cry
but I have to ask myself the tough questions
of was it me or a simple as to why…

i’m sure i’ll move on
to find a way to survive
but a love like mine
takes root and begins to thrive
probably too much on the self
maybe just on the notion
but i’ll be damned if my love
wouldn’t cause me to sip from that shakespearian potion

alas…

gone is my muse
from which i took leave
of artistry and conviction
to discover what i believe…
how much bullshit is that?
eating nothing, yet getting fat…
the head getting cold while wearing a hat…
the D train passing without the sight of a rat…
i guess i left it up to her
to flower in her youth
to take me far beyond
the absolute & vermouth.
and i wonder why the years look so dim
i had a muse and let the slim
chance of her breath to inspire and create.
god, i deserve all that i got…
all that’s left on my plate…
so here i am
with only myself to be inspired…
hey… what a thought
how profound
i think i’m feeling wired
back with society,
or at least with the lost part of me,
i’m approaching this so gregariously
it scares me to think
of how she might feel
because there’s still a part of my muse
left up inside of me…

outbreak

the dawn comes anew
glistening off of the supple waves
her eyes are now setting
in some distant land
and the cool air of the evening mist
is reflected in the morning sky

equilibrium

as the sun rises
it hides itself even further
beyond mountains
and plains
and mysterious waves
the sun is in sync
but the difference is measured wide
blue for one
the other green eyed
yet the sun is in sync
how can that be?

rejuvenation

distant thoughts
in separate worlds
travel instantaneously
love amiss
love dismissed
far from the same
central to the abyss
souls heal
while others feel for a taste
of misguided hate
a residue of fate
once concealed
the sun has set
it has gotten late

where do I begin
and even try to spin
the happenings of weeks past
me acting like an ass
lost out in love
like the lonely dove
sitting waiting for the return
of the morning’s dew

one sip, or two?

i left this world by force
circumstantial divorce
and returned with a passion
a long lasting action
a promise to myself
that aside from material wealth
i make myself whole
and stop acting the role
of a long lost soul

i’ve hocked up the toll

it’s time for me to start working
and living
and respecting
life as I know it
with the clarity
and a philosophy
that can bring
a baptized christian down
on two bent knees
and examine the psalms
from another scripture
with a more profound diction

(i’m not talking about a glowing box
from the movie pulp-fiction)

i don’t know if you’ll ever
truly understand a man
with the internal scars of a slave,
made to behave
bellowing an institutionalized rave-
ing scream…

(an unheard dream)

i’ve got to move on
so that’s what i’ll do
it only kills me to think
that i’m doing this without you
but if you want to know a what
or even ask me a stupid ass why
please don’t hesitate
for each night i die
a bit more and more
thinking that i lost you
i’m sorry but it’s true
i still love you
i still love you…