I had hoped that love would pull us apart,
Out of time and waltzing along
Just our minds as memory.
Take my hand through the old maison,
Let stardust fall, undisturbed;
Glowing embers upon frosted floors.
A heart that thumps clears the air
And cats nearly cry with magical pyre,
Never lost for a memory.
Sun begun laid all that was,
As sand blew ghosts beyond despair
An air of recollection collected there.
There are leftover bottles
Sitting on a dusty piano
Forgotten in the corner
Singing heartfelt bluegrass
To drunken loners
Habitually smoking
Leftover cigarollas
From playboys and their lovers
Who wore deep pocketed holes
In a beer stained dance floor
That sang hip songs
From an old jukebox
With burnt out numbers
Shuffling in the corner
All night long.
Painting all my perfect fingers
The colour of aloha,
I’ve forgot
Her dear sandals
Back at the ocean floor.
But in the fret
I’ve not forgotten
Five tiny darling seashells,
That I picked
While out walking
Hand in hand in love.
I am yet awake,
I have not yet groaned
My spider scaring roar
That echoes through these walls
And the cobwebbed corners of my mind.
But when I do,
When I finally wiggle my toes
And touch the cool cool floor
Of this autumn day morning,
I will smell the embracing aroma
Of my medium roast pour over.
A pull – this forever moment;
Yearning midnight moon.
To tie dangling laces around my neck
That drip about the floor
Tangling deepest desires – honey thick,
With unending silence
Echoing off my midnight grace.
I handle tip-toes with heaving breath,
Twirling dazedly in passion’s clutch
And remembering concert halls
Echoing my nothing butterflies,
Vibrant and fleeting
– My dancer’s death –
Upon well traced wooden floors
And my forever midnight moon.
Pearls fell out my pocket today
As I shook from head to toe.
No, it was not a dance of
Twenty-some toes,
But a fury so deep
It saturated my own regret.
I laid there as they rolled about
Uneven floorboards.
Face to floor;
Face to roof.
I was uncomfortable
And still aloof.
Anachrome brought me here:
Leveled the forest floor
And dug the deep holes
That left me homeless.
I wrestled with fate.
I angled my history towards
Chemical baths and
Burning blow torches.
Then I left in distance.
With mud huts and ivory
And skinny dipping clear-cuts.
Like a woodpecker on a telephone pole.
There was no death.
No marked spot for execution,
Hanging noose or bullet hole.
Anachrome lived in smoke.
Did my letters long convince your soul
That all was lost amongst our hearts?
Pleasure drained upon the floor
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Balance shifted which throws me off.
What once was art is burning hearts
To leave me scarred, aghast; true horror.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Like laughter in wicked eyes of crows,
It shelters me not, my sorrow cloak.
And fill my heart with dust and sand
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
To wake again my soul at long last,
To deliver my forgiveness upon deaths door.
You were never mine, but I cared evermore.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
We each remember our stories just a little bit harder
– A little bit longer in tooth –
With vinegar to keep infection afar.
And in our judgement, our fantasy act
We search for crime, and it’s partner punishment
To soothe our broken bones that lay
About the floor in disarray.
But as lost is all that has begun
If for whatever reason we hold onto none
Then let our hearts beat madness
Pitter-pattering our footsteps forth
Into cold days of snowy forgiveness
That crawl away as we push back the tears
Singing sweet songs to our guiding Archangels
Audible melodies yell out to me
From browns and yellows and oranges
And decay coiling around the forest floor
Waltzing in a downward spiral
Escaping grasping tops of trees
Shedding for coming seasons
And Orchard grass spreading seedlings
About the popular field surrounding
Swept about by gusting winds
Tickling the noses of passing strangers
While squirrels burrow deeper
Birds fly southward
And sun sets earlier
