Welcome to an ancient seed
Lost into a diagram
Sold into a paradigm
That missed one houndred marks.
So then the ancient seed becomes
Lost into translation,
A whisper of diagnosis
Spread out onto sheets.
Then when all is lost,
When all notes are acquired
Seed will grow, continually,
No matter stretch of road.
Though a design been made
She walked away
Rode the early train beyond
Sleeping city limits been had
Of her dear lover’s abode
She watched the skyline
Grow so gold
Missing not a ray
That shone right through
Windows of her steel steed
Tears had formed
Rolling down the glass
To borrow time
Upon her sheets
My shallow scoop has left graceful dents
Upon the eves of my tomorrow;
Pondering a moment here leaves me
Wishing I hadn’t left my tear
So delicately upon your shoulder.
I grew an orchid that cried so softly
When the rhythm of the moon filled
Each crystal chalice with translucent waves
Softly swirling in my hand
Wishing I wasn’t so damn ready.
And as I watched the sun gallop
Over the Eastern horizon from my chair,
I hummed a tune in my favorite key of D
So low it had rumblings of a tumbling dream
Which pressed me between cold sheets for another day to begin.
You know you were my everything
I tied two knots to secure
I had clouds in every step
And then I floated on.
You became a ghost of everything
I saw your shadows down the hall
I closed each book with tear stained sheets
And then I sang my song.
You let me handle everything
I knew it was your way
I signed my life upon the dotted line
And to you I said goodbye.
You now have yourself everything
I see your stones and leather shine
I broke away and floated on
And now you don’t have me.
Why can’t you be my lover?
Why cant skies call us
Hand in hand
On a lazy Sunday
From beneath checkered sheets
And last nights crumbs?
Why can’t your body tangle
Wrap the heart of my smile
So tightly in a slow gaze kind of way?
Why can’t a sidewalk be
Our waltz through a park
Hand in hand and stopping
To watch two swans bathe themselves?
Why can’t our tub be lit by candles
With a glass of wine to share
From a lazy notebook dream
On a midnight kind of Saturday?
Why can’t our every day
Hold our dreams just so,
Where routine is charming and light
And the tips of your fingers
Remind me of the frost on morning’s flowers?
Why can’t we share memories,
In a caravan of love?
Don’t say those words.
Don’t whisper into the madness.
Don’t hold my hand when wind blows so strong.
For I am only a man,
A lonely man
Stepping lightly through long blades of grass
Soaked with morning dew.
Lifting my love
That sits balanced on a finely pressed
Manufactured with my namesake in mind
And imprinted with layered words
Of forgotten notes
Passed along in a time when I knew
Those words were necessary.