Spaces in Sunshine

A SONG!!! My first. I'll be singing it on stage this Sept.



Somewhere in the sunshine
I found my faith again,
and though the walls are gray and faded,
and we're all tainted by our sins,
the walls can be refinished,
and we can be reborn,
so don't let the hardships
paint your face forlorn.

[chorus]
We all need some space for breathing,
some time for ourselves,
a place to call our own;
don't even tell the world you're leaving,
just disappear from view,
take some time alone.

We were made for heaven,
though first we go through hell,
but trials only brighten
the fires they don't quell.
Our scars don't make us who we are,
they're proof of where we've been,
so appreciate the moment,
and feel the light sink in.

[chorus]
I think I need some space for breathing,
some time for myself,
a place to call my own;
the world won't even know I'm leaving,
I'll just disappear from view,
to take some time alone.

If there were room
to take you with,
I'd show you the stars
and teach you bliss.
But this spaceship
was built for one,
so I will fly alone
into the sun.

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Happy Birthday Mike G!

Walked smack into a glass wall at Starbucks today. Good way to recover from a hangover. Well, i'm 41 now. Boring age. 40 is sexier. I won't grow up, only I'll grow into my craziness, I'll grow bigger balls, I'll grow mold, poems of filth and glory, my tongue will go everywhere . . .


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
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There's been magic in the air...

Sunshine inspires me.
A couple new pieces...and I have a feeling there's a lot more to come.


Waiting Is
Did we ever touch
with meaning--
do you know what I meant:
when my fingers brushed your cheek;
when my hair spilled
like dark sunshine
over your shoulder;
when I pressed against you,
trying to push through
the barriers of clothing and
flesh--
did you hear my unspoken intent?
And my eyes are hungry
for the sight of you,
denied
like something addictive and
wrong--
still I want, still I long, still I yearn,
and never learn.
I know that you lied
with every soft breath.
It doesn't matter.
My foolish heart insisted
that I could save you, change you,
show you
that there was something real
outside of yourself.
And maybe you listened,
maybe you learned, maybe believed.
Only time will tell.
5.14.08

[fin.]
I'm fed up with your "facts."
You sped up your act to keep pace
with my racing heart, but your
pretty face,
your gorgeous green eyes and
transparent lies that can't disguise
truth
won't carry you through,
won't pave your way any longer--
so ponder, as you're craving
the warmth of my arms and my hands,
that I could have saved you,
I could have made you
a god;
consider how I braved hell and high water
to bathe in mere moments of your
worthless presence,
your beautiful pretense.
I know I'm not her--
not the girl of your dreams, that
fantasy lover-nymph-goddess.
I never meant to be.
But think on this, as you're missing
my lips and the feel of my hips
and all those small pieces of bliss:
I'm much better than nothing.
5.16.08

Meat Market
For sale--sold
by the glitter of gold,
by fever bright eyes
and the wet sheen of sweat,
gyrating hints of possibilities,
lewd glints of empty nothings--
just wasting time with a taste
of what could be, what should be,
but isn't.
Is that beating drum your heart,
are you stomping out
the rhythm of life?
Are you giving in to the animal within?
Sacrificing humanity like a sacred lamb
for the sake of primal fires,
hedonistic desires for the texture of
flesh against your
lips, in your teeth, such
shapely hips, suggesting
what goes on between her thighs.
Are we so blinded
by the dim lights and tidal waves of sound
that we don't care about the soul
beneath that succulent enclosure of
supple skin, so willing to give in
to urgent demands, older than
rational thought
and the ability to rise above ourselves
and the moment?

[yes.]
5.17.08

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crushed

we stagger on,
voice, pen works,
staggering works
arms to embrace
what's left of wreckage


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE

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***







forced, i left you in vegas
never getting to feel your skin.
gaze into your would be brown eyes
you would have joined our family this week
instead i tote a ghost in my heart

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Every Morning There's a Halo...

How do the sounds blur and
run together
like so much watercolor
paint, splattered by toothbrush on the
canvas of my
brainwaves?

In tiny little droplets, that's how,
shimmering all the way down
the water spout,
tip me over and pour me out:

in a one-two motion,
I wax on, wax off,
and learn that
waiting is.

And looking at the past, like
seeing through reflections
to a less real world
helps me grasp the
current angle.

Angular
features, he looks like
heaven on a silver platter--
or maybe
just
the better mousetrap.

A pulling in the jawbone
reminds me why I'm here, and how;

and I am ceaselessly amazed
at my knack
for living through
my self-destructive motions.
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The Swan

yeah . . . yep


THE REST OF IT GOES HERE
The Swan
I peed my bed till I was eight
I sucked my thumb till I was ten
I say the birds will sing with morning
I say the swan who glides the stream
is more bright than a galaxy
And you believe in me
the seed explodes when it’s ready I say
your lips receive the seed
I tell you a secret:
I fold my wings around my wound
It’s how I move around my waking time
I want to breathe, not machine, beast, the me
with beak and teeth, a freak, serene,
Sundays are soiled, sweaty, I wake
I strip the bed and wash my sheets
I stalk my desire, quiet, I stalk
I set the clock ahead fifteen minutes,
I plot against the clock in favor of a better time
let us be too late to go to church, at times it works
I want to be a feral thing
I want fur, I want to smash the clock
and throw my watch in the stream
watch the dark thing sink
watch the swan glide past
more bright than a galaxy
Too deep in dream, in drink I say
Kafka stares at bricks and walls,
the ticks and tocks of gloom I count
my work is not the me I want
dark is the countdown to toothbrush
and shave, the daily smile of I the slave
I say the birds will sing with morning
At night you say I believe
I love the you, you want to be
I love the you who peed the bed
I love the you who sucked the thumb
the swan who glides the stream
the song, the birds, the bright



But morning comes, twisted grey-blue wound!
And I’m wrong, the birds ain’t singin’ shit
You say it can‘t stay this way,
you say I must change, you write a list of 13 things
I write a poem on the spot
Called 13 ways of looking at a critic
How your one eye droops sadly on the branch!
Your brain exposed in the dirt
and the ants are coming to munch
I must change? Hmm?
I can’t I say, the swan can’t glide
more bright than a galaxy
with anchors of can’t chained to its feet
I can’t otherwise strive, you can’t accept
the can’t in me,
You!
Find!
Other swan,
Other stream
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Track Record

Mostly humor, a lot of truth, but mostly I just wanted to rhyme.



There was a jackass named Austin and a bastard named Jake,
and all either did was abuse and take.
There was a man named Chet and a boy named Scott,
and I took from THEM, more often than not.
Two early obsessions were 'Miah and Travis,
then Cory and Evan and a few named Chris,
Daniels and Davids and a couple named Sean,
two Matthews, a Max, and more than one John;
Ryan fooled me and I fooled Roger,
Valentine loved me, Flip gave me a daughter;
a tattoo for James and a tattoo for Rheo,
a good time with Brian and a crush on Theo;
Weedman Dick, platonic-love Tony;
Vegas was cuddlesome, Sorn was bony;
Tyler gave me roses, I waited for Fuze;
three of us naked: me, cal, and Muze;
another for three was me, Jen, and Kenneth;
Lucas and Joey are two more I've been with;
Turbo was wild, Romeo had style,
I got into the bar by sleeping with Kyle;
I was sober with Josh, but drunk with Naked,
and every time with Taylor I had to fake it;
Jimmy I'd like, and Billy I've had,
Toby, Eric, and Lena weren't bad;
Firefly, Shooting Star, Lycos, and I,
we partied all night because we were high;
Jesse and Hyatt just disappointed;
my sojourn with Mike was long, but disjointed;
with Caesar, I sat and looked at the sky,
with Pat I watched movies, with Pixie I fried,
and with Mark I just listened; Kevin should die,
but Ger Bear was sweet, and so was Nice Guy;
I lust after Adam, and fell hard for Ben,
adventured with Tom, and miss Pockets often.
Quite a track record, but don't call me a whore--
just say there's much room in my life for amore!
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Another Ode [to you]

It all seems so bright,
too hot to touch,
though I feel like
licking it,
because it looks like it
tastes amazing, like
chocolate frosting, like
rainbows and Skittles and coffee and donuts and pie.

Do you follow?

I think I lost you,
back when
I still cared, but you forgot
how great it feels, when
you started taking it all
for granted.

You lost it
when you forgot that you have to
look
really really hard
to be able to see me;
you should have listened more--
even though I talk in a tiny voice,
I say big things.

I could have rocked your world, harder than
tripping three days straight, better than
your latest fling, faster than
that bullet train, stronger...
I'm sure you understand.

And do you ever wonder
how brightly
we could have shown together?
A thousand suns would pale,
fail and die
with envy.

But I can burn just as hot
without you.
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Incubus

I continue to be pleased,
elated and surprised,
delighted at every corner:

behold the odd spectacle,
the fantasy world I created for two,
but lived in alone,
until now--

and the garden path, paved with glass
that shattered when I
[fell from heaven and]
hit the ground
rings with footsteps and laughter,
echoing
in scintillating patterns that
shimmer and
glitter beautifully on all the sharp edges,

and we don't mind that it slices our feet
as long as we're lost
in each other's auras.

The romantic glow of
Rome burning
lights up the night,
and your flavor of chaos
excites me.

Frightening shadows invite
with wicked and secretive whispers,
inappropriate chills--
overwhelm me, inundate me,
drown me
in your sinful tide
of forbidden desire.
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