Crossroad

Everything

and everyone

you ever loved

will one day

find themselves

at a crossroad—

where you’ll be

standing

pocketing fists

hunched like a Lily,

or else dancing

ripped like paper

on a wall full of flowers

looking lovely—

except they won’t know you

anymore, not anymore

than you know your own self—

cheeks, rosy as embers

the lush on the floor,

I’ll know his name well

you bet I’ll be singing—

So best get to knowing,

before you regret

a lifetime pretending

you’ve remembered only

to forget.

Ashes to Ashes

There’s no denying that’s a pretty face
There’s no excuse still for being late
The corner store’s got a sale on
Greeting cards that sell have price love
There’s truth in breathing at an even pace
There’s beauty bending to bear the weight
Now either way you feel overwhelmed
Exchanging coffee for whiskey now
I’ve got a big bad wolf of a habit
Full of hot air and over dramatics
Got a house built solely of glass when
I huff and puff well nothing happens
I gave her cashmere for Christmas once
She gave me friendship when I had none
There’s proof in putting a sweater on
The back of someone you’re giving up
I’ve got a big bad wolf of a habit
Full of disdain for love when I have it
Got a house built solely of glass and
No stones left to throw just ashes ashes

Our Herded Hearts

I’d rather cringe

in ecstasy, than

quiver in disgust.

We revel

in redundancy

it’s all we have to trust—

ourselves against the odds

initials on a wall, each letter

carved with dignity—

till dignity is lost.

We’re clueless

with the clues,

useless feeling used.

Each hopeless

a romantic, each helpless

as romance is.

And we can smell our own,

like cattle led to slaughter,

knowing that we’re next.

Our herded hearts must witness

each blow before our last.

50/50 split

Some days it’s a blessing

Others it’s a curse

Today’s a bit of both

I’ll only make it worse—

Perhaps this awful feeling’s

A 50/50 split

We balance our emotions

Like Humpty Dumpty did

But come on little Lucy

Fairies don’t exist

The sky ain’t full of diamonds

Your LSD is shit

If proof deserves a reason

I’m aimless as a kid

The message in the pavement

It’s cold covered in spit—

On days that it’s a blessing

Send someone for the hearse

When truth sounds like confession

On those days it’s a curse

All those Long Island years ago…

It was like

When I stopped wanting to forget

I started to remember

Every minute

Every second

Lost—

And everyone I gave way to that bitter beast

Now empty, yet able

To proceed where I left him

All those Long Island years ago

While she watched The Great Gatsby

And I painted her in watercolors

Poorly, but good enough

For a young drunk in his prime

If There’s Blue Sky In My Future

If there’s blue sky in my future

Give it to me soon

These days have been a meathook

Mourning until noon

Seems things will never change

So don’t blame me if I do

If there’s blue sky in my future

I owe it all to you

Broken Hearts in Four Parts

Give me a second just to catch my breath

You’re cold as the Winter gonna catch your death

Each morning’s a race you better hold me down

I watch as you paint away your lovers frown—

Night falls quicker when you try to conceive

Words without action make you hard to believe

Was my first impression just a go around

Replaced by the fiction of this hippie town—

Excuse my suggestion for removing hearts

Release this suspension and we fall apart

Her name’s in your mouth like a cherry twist

My faith felt outsmarted by your lovers kiss—

So give me a second my world’s upside down

Revolving around this fucking city now

A due course of action is a simple fix

It’s easy to see now that I’m not transfixed

When Darkness Touches The Dark In Us

Thought things were getting better

But they were only getting worse

I was picking up the pieces from

A puzzle in reverse

Memories repeating like

Some incurable curse

Though what I hadn’t realized

Would soon present the worst

A method sort of acting gave

Me reason for the course

To lie between the twilight of

What’s true and well rehearsed

Yet nothing spells out treason like

Our compliments at birth

Inception feels like stardust for

Whoever’s speaking first

Perhaps what bothers most of us

Is not the tragic end

When darkness touches the dark in us

It’s there we must begin