...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running
spectral through the mist,

I walk lonely fields

Sweet darlin known only to me.
You hide in the shadows.
And dance on empty floors so others will not see.

You hang onto words empty as your heart.
And cast aside  all who care.
For there is no heartbreak if you never start.

You wrap yourself in lies and so freely twirl.
I wonder does anyone ever truley see.
My invisable girl.

once she was there only to vanish a little at a time.
I new the person.
More than a simple ryhme.

We loved and lost.
Shared a pain  and suffred the cost.

As we live more like ghosts in a empty shell.
I wonder In your isolation.
I pitty whomever thoose secrets you tell.

Like a old cat beside a fire into a emotional ball you do
curl.
I wonder  if ever you will return my invisable girl

blue checkered jacket
the cloth faded.
kneeling onto yesterday
holding on to tomorrow
her leathery tan hands cup
a wrinkled  tired face.
the white tasseled hair and the bulbous nose.
hope has left her eyes,
the light has turn to rain.
beneath a torn brown skirt
short varicose  bowed legs
forever journey to no place.
everything she owns in a big paper bag.

She has no home.

Its a pain that I'm unable to explain.
Physical yet emotional all in the same way.
To the outside world its invisable and non-existent
But inside there is a stabbing, gut wrenching pain.
A blade being ****** through my abdomen over and over again.
Until nausea over comes and chokes me close to drowning
The very organs that make me a woman are poisoning my blood, my life force
Every emotion is magnified, intensified
made into a life ending dilema
Every nerve throbbing, transferring through every part
Making my legs weak and my heart race
The blood running through my veins has become acid
Alone in this prison of emotional and physical hell
No tender hand to caress my cheek
No soothing, comforting words to lul me to sleep
No strong arms to wrap me up tight
No soft lips to kiss me goodnight
The darkness of solitude is seeping in
To encompass and destroy any small bit of hope left
Fate has cursed my every move
Tarnished every hello, expecting and waiting for the goodbye
Destined to wallow for all eternity in my own tears

you played to pursudae
my golden parade
into your midnight blue finger tips--
to hinder me to beg to be a part of the edge of your lips

oh young man why do you throw me in your bed like that
and touch my ribs and sides the way leaves touch the ground in autumn

your palms have left invisable marks along the small of my back

dont make me loose whatever is left inside of my thoughts
the waves of eminent energy that rush down your masculinity
as I simply watch adorning every crevice of anything that ever exsisted inside of you
and everytime I noticed this passion grew
---
and I always seemed to notice

when I felt blindness and artless
your name skipped in my blood
----
and I am no longer heartless

The scarecrow, solitary in the field
Tatty coat, all astray
Looks out over all his land
If he could talk, what would he say.

Summer,autumn, winter too
Wind and rain, clouds of grey
He never flinches from his post
If he could see, what would he say

Children play amoungst the crops
Neatly parcelled bales of hay
Days grow shorter, crisper, cooler
If he could hear, what would he say

Invisable tears and a broken heart
His lonely vigil every day
Timeless days and empty nights
If he could walk, would he walk away.

As a child I always covered my ears
whenever I started to hear my
parents fighting about whose weekend it was
And I hated that term
Whose weekend it was
Like they owned me

As if I was nothing more than some
quarrelsome barter being habitually swapped between living quarters at the end of every week
Sometimes I wished nothing more than to be
invisable, camouflaged along the wall
of dusty old antiques
Because the only ones you ever saw
fighting over them were old people who smelled
of pastries and lilacs

But I got tired of waiting for that
And I got more tired of the *******
small talk and forced awkward smiles
and when push came to shove,
At eight years old I was tired
of being handled with kid gloves

I grew up feeling like a token of fair trade
And in school I learned that fair trade
really wasn't fair at all
Some were taught to run while others
are forced to crawl to cross the finish line
but even that can't buy you time

Because at the end of the day
I still find myself coming back to that
original thought of the antiques along the
wall of items that nobody bought
And when you see that your only
company is dust and stale air,
life finds another way to remind you
that nothing is fair.

She was drown in the shadows of a past she dare not escape.

Bound by an invisable chain, anchored, and weighting her down.

In a painful comfort of dysfunction, this chain rubbed raw places in her mind.

Like an addict in her ways, kindness and happiness slipped through her open grasp, so she could wade into the familiar waters once again wrapped in her sadness.

Dear Mr first name only somethings ya do dont really
make sense.
But even a drunk like me has to say it's enough.
Cause my drunk *** cant even stand let alone  strattle a fence.

Points was  the first straw  my invisable friend.
To make ten comments for a point.
Well i got far better things to do with my weekend.

And one night as from the bar i did crawl.
Thought i was just drunk off my ***.
But dam if ya didnt take down the wall.

But it's okay cause if ya wanna be on the list
you can always buy a place.
Ya know your dealing with poets right?
Hey some kid just took his parents credit card
and stole my place.

Mr Elliot  should i stay silent in fear.
It's hard to shut a good drunk up.
Was it you that put that horse head in my bed
and drank all my beer?

And while certin people gave us the name
they gave my foggy mind a idea to.
If ya keep us going at each other  then
that keeps us fom going after you.

Mr Elliot  please dont  read this and
make me dissapear.
For I'll take refuge  in my pub.
hide behind the women  and gaurd the rear.

Yes im the ressident ******* and clown.
The bartender to the masses.
Who preaches drink up and get down.

If it aint broke Mr Elliot lets **** with it till   it  is.
Let me hand ya a beer.
Shake it up good and watch it fizz.

Hello I hope this isnt goodbye.
Cause it just aint  much fun without Gonzo.
Im a drunk a *** a nut a pervert and a pretty nice guy.

Dear Mr Elliot sending me away wasnt  very nice.
When i think vacation  I think sun and sand.
Not the north pole  hey were the ***** santa?
Well  least for my drinks i got pleanty of ice.

From behind the bar I recall what led me here.
Not to see people fight over  spots on a board.
But to bring them togather as friends.
Not drive them apart as enimies.

To see the glass stay  full.
And the spirts to bring cheer.
Jokes hold truth.
As the jester I know pain.

Smells of perfume and smoke beautiful eye's
and that invisable desire.
We dance in hope of capturing life.

To embrace in darkness.
The page can never capture the passion
of two lovers spark.

From behind the bar  I see life
for more than what others belive  it is.
Jokes comfort as the flirt kisses  the ego.

Napkins written with numbers passed encounters
promised.
Some never to know the light of day.

Hungover friends  gather whiskey  laced
plessures  with a tinge of regret.
But life is one play  my friends  that no
single act shall we froget.

The drink sit's neat apon the bar.
You can see blindley for years.
And never know who people truley are.

Drinks as people dont last long.
They gleam the same under neon light.
So friends always mix them strong.