I held a spoonful close to my mouth
Sips of whatever I had coming again
Tightly packed for a business trip
In a car with four doors
Fingertips and a medicine bottle
And a spoon held for too long.
Take me down a river road
Cottonwoods and wheeping willows
Blowing in the wind
Long lamented tailwind signaled
Our swift departure – forward
With an essence upon my lips
Holding on to my silver moon.
As Autumn’s candle blows clouds away
Sharpness enters into this day
At the cost of blue one cannot say
The geese should fly today.
But as Hermes doth say,
“Winter, come our way,”
So must we abide by nature’s law.
And here we are amidst the fray
Swirling leaves on an Autumn day,
And frost spreading it’s silver lining
Along the open grass
With little paw prints
Bustling here and there,
To prepare for Winter’s deep lair,
Shelter and warmth bites the air
Though Autumn’s wick doth get shorter.
To me it was the best I could
But in the end, I lament – misunderstood.
Like a diamond engulfed in a suave scarf
I rolled nonchalance, engulfed in Mars.
To be alone in a symbol of peace,
I had a golden cleft, a silver leaf;
A long row of butterflies
And I, wanting only to spread my wings to fly.
Easing words that did not become my name,
I reached a point to which I claimed!
And there I stood, as naked as death,
Where moments stood for my held breath.
A needle digs deeper guiding the well worn thimble on
Scaring dogs, singing and howling like Big Momma John
Like she’s snaking about a pale spotlight covered in sequins
Singing the whole time about a blue moon kissing her empty bottle
And filling each patron of the evening with wonderment
A quiet lady, sitting idle at the bar dressed only in pink
Clinks cold bricks slowly about the smoothed edges of her glass
Pulling at her soul for every single bit of truth she has
With high hopes that this very night will reveal all that could ever be
And harness her abandon like the piano pullin’ Big Momma John in
A mood envelops the patrons, sensually gliding from table to table
Touching far reaching itches only elation and jubilation can satisfy
Like the silver lining on a red velvet goblet
Deadly for all those unaccustomed to these desires
And final, like large Gothic keys hung around the undertakers neck
Pine tree green
There are no eyes
There are no whispers
There are no games
The lake is empty
There are no sunsets
There is no tomorrow
Silver turns my soldiers aim
Into a game to fight
The silver lining, baby
That holds things dear
But you and me, baby
What we once were
It’s further from truth
Than Hollywood stories
I’ve had it up to here
With movies, baby