her paris dreams had become jersey jaded
but she held onto the romance at heart
after all you can take the dreams out of the girl
but you'll never stop the girl from being a dreamer
and its the beautiful things in the world
that were close to her heart
and it was the beauty inside her that counted
and she was a field of stars in the night
she was a dreamer and a lover
she was summer and joy
she had paris dreams that were as big as the sky
she had paris dreams as warm as her heart
alive with every breath her dreams lived for her
and she for them
her paris dreams will never really die
they are sunshine
even jaded they are beautiful

.

“The lunatic is on the grass”

Signs don’t really matter
Spelling corrects the mood
Dancing on the scattered blades
My word, he’s such a crazy dude

“The lunatic is on the grass”

Park place settings filter
In silverware and dreams
Sidewalks offer no relief
That’s when the pain excites the screams

“Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs”

Memories grow within the weeds
Flowers cast in sad defeat
Caretakers watch as footprints carve
Barking out orders, then repeat

“Got to keep the loonies on the path”

Herding shadows singular
Days to nights of gloom
Read the writing on the wall
This is the dark side of the moon

Never,
will I meet her
Never,
see her smile
Never,
hold her in my arms
for just a little while

Never,
will I kiss her
Never,
touch her skin
Never gaze into her eyes
and feel the love within

Never,
wil I hold her hand
Never,
smell her hair
Never,
whisper in her ear
how much I truly care

Never,
will it happen
Never,
it shall be
Forever,
I will just sit here,
this hollow shell of me

she paints ugly things in pretty colors
she runs with the devil and whispers with the saints
she is a good girl in bad times
she's a angel in disguise
you can find her riding shotgun
in the roughest part of town
you can find in her the softest heart
she is a flower blooming in a field of thorns
she is a woman to be reckoned with
and a force of nature to be feared
but she will always be kind and gentle
she paints ugly things pretty colors
and gives them happy homes
she really is an angel in disguise

a waiting room
the rain outside the single small window
gives aspects to the room of comfort
a woman sits next to me
her phone makes water droplet sounds
as she taps gently on its screen
office sounds and smells

the room has pieces of home to decorate
like the painting of country road
its summer feel meant to warm the room
makes me think of childhood
the vase with plastic flowers
and magazines scattered on the meek coffee table

the steady office noises are interrupted by a womans strident voice
her words obscured but her angry intent clear
the waiting rooms occupants all turn to look at
the closed door
then return to the task at hand
of trying to play a good waiting game
of glancing at each other

waiting
waiting
so polite and proper we wait
for this doctors quick words
soon enough to head home
with prescriptions in hand
with answers in heart

there is so much night fallen under, in between, beside
the space is not enough to handle the burden of the living
the music refuse to surrender, grotesque
to givedeathsomethingtodo
each tiny thought fills the chamber of not-yet-thoughts
toomuchtobear
each idea splits into thousand others each minute
the mind is a rag, a broken doll watching this performance of power
l’elan vital
feelings ceaselessly running wild into each other,
crashing, colliding, stumbling blinded
calling their names
no redemption for light anywhere
crawling happens in all direction in the same time
until space it’s collapsing under its own weight
I slip through a dark visible hole attuned to the rhythm of hell
what an experience, the speed of blood refuses to freeze
terror is running to stand still
not enough connections
I practice some claws out of chaos
crammed with ******
the pain is unbearable all over
every inch is a battlefield
time has turned into the ghost of eternity
just a direction to flow, if only I could find
sing me a lullaby mama
so that I can make more space between my ears
lend me some grace
to ask death
to be gentle with me
only imagination breathes in
to steal some time alive
dreaming the touch of peacefulness
amid the stubbornness of heart

nospacenolight
this is how I became an expert
in pigeon’s flight
while insisting somehow
to keep my eyes inside
this is how I got some courage
to bear Yes & No in the dark
to keep writing when I die in myself
for love to find

flawed to near insanity
but long as you could hold down a job then its alright
isn't that a wise policy she asked
i'm not so sure
watching the clowns strut their stuff
in the midnight sun
they are reckless to be certain but self aware to a fault
just makes it all the more bizarre
watch em go at it with each other over the simplest thing
its no way to live
you can vouch for the living as long as you haven't died
and this madness is just shy of being in a pine box
so darling lets get outa this crazy place
get away from the thinking
that you gotta be like everybody else
get away from the plastic hippie rat-race
roll down the easy highway
find us some sweet sunshine to breath in
find us a better life to be

.
     Seems much smaller than I had imagined.
     It only stretches as far as my eyes could
     see.
     It reeks of the past, with no hints of the
     future.
     The present is here, the present is me.

My world tonight...
     Sees me nestled,
     watching silent but with mind
     dishevelled...
     Unnoticed on this kerb...
     Unnamed and unlabelled.

My world tonight...
     Is filled with familiar strangers,
     ushering their lives along.
     I know their faces but not their names.
     I'd call this home but I don't belong.

My world tonight...
     Is spinning regardless...
     It stays on track.
     Never waits for me.
     Never looks back.

My world tonight...
     Has no intention to soothe my thoughts.
     It is baring its bite...
     It's leaving me far behind...
     But I'll catch up at the break of light.



                                        *As I always do...

time crawls in my head
cries out knowledge secretive and sweet
its words are a paradise of the mouth
spoken clearly and precise
illustrating beautiful scenes
but beneath such delight is true nature revealed
such smooth to the tongue beauty is easily upturned
by crafty hand
by crafty mind
time crawls like an ugly beast in my head
tick tock tick tock
turn now to see the best of me wash away
like bitter free dream
time crawls in my head  
like the world burning
its words are sweet to the mind
secretive they are whispered in my ear
but all beauty decays with time
and that is all that is on my mind