Stumbling Life

Walking down this same old road
That you travel with me
As long as I could lessen your heavy load
But when I need a hand
You turn a leave me there
To catch myself as I stumble and fall

Like some second sting character
I hang on to your every word on this you rely
But you run after your Romeo
Levin me and I sit, head in hands, and cry
It might not be much
But these tears are a crutch
To catch myself as I stumble and fall

A Gypsy curse rides this soul
Trough the feelings I have to keep from speech
My thoughts will keep you warm
Even if you never are within my reach
For there is a word
That takes all of my will for me to avoid
Twelve-fifteen-Twenty two and five
It is only these sounds that keep me alive
And even if you never say them in return
You KNOW how bright they will always linger and burn
So even at the proverbial end of it all…
Please excuse me…
As I… stumble…and fall

Night Spent Smiling

Blood red hair
Hits the pillow like a dream
Sleeping smiling woman
Floats softly down the stream
A testament to beauty
In the world that she surrounds
She makes the moonlight jealous
Of the light she leaves around

Eyes that spark, eyes that drown
And eyes that sweep away
The worries of old hours past
Hold me in their sway

Dylan to Insanity

I am going insane
Dylan in my ear
Woman on my lonely mind
Deadline drawing near
Beauty’s grace and virtue
Lay in toneless voice
To which we give melody
Of our only choice

Blank eyes to the glow
Stopped clock’s empty gaze
Competing for memories
In minds broken maze
Cold black thawing windows
Third floor backwards blind
Show hell is in the moment
That this moment left behind

And nothing seems to move
In each hours grasp
Rolling out the minutes
With seconds built to last

Untitled

I’m sitting in the graveyard;
Wind is blowing faster,
As I gaze on a stone
I’ve yet too master.
To carve with fairytales
Of love and life’s last debt;
Of long lost consequences
And of burnt out cigarettes.

Drop a hat on stone
And let it burn to heaven.
Touch only that which your
Hope won’t leaven.
The stone you left behind
Will never burn so bright,
As the day you chose to bury
Your last act of contrite.

So we lean on graves
And sip of sweeter things
Bourne by the hole of
Countless empty wedding rings.
A mound of flowers later
I hasten up my speed.
Drop your blessed name
And quickly lonely I recede.