Quero mais dos seus beijos

One two, beat one two

What is this that thumps inside of me?

My head says I'm spinning out of control

But your hand is tying me down to earth

This ring on my finger doesn't mean much any more

And all the songs I sing these days are of being unsure

I'm perched on this shore where waves drown out the noise

Three four, beats three four

Swing the time and sip the wine

Language means nothing when our words tell lies

Your hands pull me through the barriers

The rings on my fingers remind me of reality

I only have sad songs to bounce off these walls

This jungle of concrete is suffocating me

Five fingers, four hands

Linked like chains and broken like bread

We shake our fists all the while holding  our pride

Swallowing swigs of tears and painting on smiles

Elephants Are Creative People

Our expectations fail us
So we tire
Somber, removed, neglected, crushed
There's a wall
Built by two hands
Time, selfishness, pride
No window pane
To even look through
Depression, isolation, insanity
Etched into the walls
Reflecting like mirrors
We miss creating
Writing, listening, tasting, loving
There're no substitues
For just being yourself
Honest, scared, lonely
Circles don't fit squares
We still try
Shuffling, mixing, shattering, gorging
But two hands
Are all it takes
Humble, patient, vulnerable, mortal
Fingers threaded together
Sewn tight by commonality
Whispering, stepping, sitting
Dipping crusts into tea
Naturally becoming friends
Invested, open , restored

people

So many people, so many footsteps
Some wear heels, some sneakers, some flip-flops, and some barefoot.
So many people, so many voices
On the train, on the sidewalk, in the elevator, and up my stairs.
They are the music in my reality.
So many people, so many stories
"I am a father," "I am unemployed," "I am a waitress," and "I won't have 3 meals today."
So many people, so many ambitions
To be an actor, to be a millionaire, to be in love, to just have a family.
So many people.
So many.
So...people.

December LullabyDecember Lullaby

December LullabyDecember Lullaby

Sing me a lullaby
In all sincerity
Changing my memory
Of who you used to be
Post marked wishes
Faded faces are now what I know
No one would've hoped that this would come so close

No phone call today
How about a letter?
You'll listen better that way

Singing our lullabies
In all dishonesty
Changing our scenery of where we used to be
Wearing faces
Playing roles is all you've ever asked
All of this is going down hill oh so fast

Hoping again
Feeling again
Sleeping through the night

In one house
And you're still far away
Down the hall, down the hall
Turning every page
In one house
And you're still far away
When will you come out to play?

Singing your lullaby
So sadly
Changing your memory of who you could be
It's all gone and it's all spent
Enjoying your own journey
Pushing away, pushing away

Mandolins Aren't Scared of Butterflies

Describe the world to me
with adjectives that score you well on the sat
painting me colorless pictures
In ways that are courteous
telling stories of peoples' faces around me
of how they are true or false
By listening to what I haven't said
because you are watching my music play
sketching the harmony into your memory

Your words make me want to listen
because they are thoughts before speech
offering eulogies for weeping willows
Your presence always has an aroma
like someone whose close but afraid
Your hands hold things close
pulling in someone else's arms
Your arms regret the weight
pushing away someone else's heart

Your ransom won't be paid
the taxes left over from a former lover
that collect interest every day
because you are your own creditor
You are crippled
only watching the world play
as children do in a school yard
bouncing balls, picking teams, ignoring the one drawing in the sand
Making your excuses for broken bones
but they've only become figments

The Wait of Movement

Three months since I've seen you and I've met movement
Movement's a new friend, but I don't know how to  introduce you
'Cause I'm scared what you'll think.

I've got a chest full of pictures and globes
And a map that'll tell me which way to go
But I haven't
Found the right path yet.

I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to share what I know
I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to help you grow

I don't know what you've been reading
But you may come over and I'll share
The literature I've collected
It sits on my shelf.

I've got a garden and it grows in my backyard
I've worked and I've planted
But it's not the white picket dream
Not my dream.

I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to share what I know
I don't have all the answers
But I'm willing to help you grow
Help you grow

Unread Valentine (Work in Progress)

I got your card-stock letter of affection
On the day love's definition equals gifts.
Tearing seams on a post marked envelope
Revealing evidence that my world is not the same.

Purple, blue, or black ink?
I know your name
I know your affection
Who scrolled them?
The letters squiggle
Filling a white landscape.

The feeling of being robbed
Even though it was expected.
With fading lights and haze
The swirling patterns every day
Be prepared is what they'd always say.
Better like this or better like that?
Once upon a day was night.
Learn your independence.

I've tasted the failure at the table of self pity
Where guests sit like ghosts entertaining the living.
And I've danced the waltz of depression
With partners who were mute.
I've heard the lullabies of dishonest neighbors
Whose intentions knocked open my door
Stealing hot kisses.
And I've seen the sorrow of bruised organs
Fighting the viruses of life.

But now I feel.
I lie in the field of hope
Resting.
Still.
Beside the lilies and cool dark soil.