Axiology

I stood there listening
as you spouted the
insecurities I confided in you,
and when you were done --
I realized they revealed
more about you
than they ever did about me.

Unwavering your words
made no difference
except one tiny twinge of sadness
that I felt for you.

I never misrepresented myself
and I won’t apologize for who I am
as always I still have myself
and that is worth something.

Confidence Rekindled

I close my eyes and wish I were anywhere else,
but I am still here, still waiting endlessly -
my hair is a little longer and my eyes black,
and yet - I look like someone else looking back at me,
my heart beats a little truer, whispering those dreams,
in which you hold me all night, in which you never give me up,
and I smile, as if the sun has just broken over the ridge,
rays scatter from my face, from my own light,
for I have remembered how to shine,
though I still linger in the shadows, though I am still at home
in the night, and I bid my time. One day, my love will freely flow,
and I will not be able to hide any longer.

Spiel Mit Mir

The procession ushers itself forth. Existentialism on Prom...no, whatever night. I could live, if only through you.

The spotlight looms ominously nearby. It pauses and collects itself. Could it come this way and would I want it to? I pull the curtains close around me, and only my face shows to the crowded audience. They stare as if examining a bizarre zoo creature.

I hope.you like.my work.
Because I don't know how else to tell you who I am.
I take a bow and expect the silence, but I hope for an applause. Just, please, pick up the phone and let your voice stick inside my ear.

It's all so much more important to me than even I'd like to believe.
"I really hope you like my work."

Good Morning... ;)

Childish Affairs

The undercurrent drones
And I see the smile you'd like me to believe
But the flame in your eye is what piques my interest
So, I wait awhile for your composure to break
So you can regain it again
And now you can watch me smile
Because, sweetie, I already know..

Long Strolls Through Open Oil Fields

Drowning out the sound of passing pedestrians
Coasting by gas stations and out of luck
Weathering the storm on the front porch with an old acoustic Gibson
Grandfather's best
People in fury trying to figure out where they're going
Flipping me off, passing on the interstate
Me pointing to gas price signs and easing off the accelerator
Everything in life seems to slow down
And we're caged in this house with no hope of ever getting out
Quick drives to the library become protracted walks
Meet a person along the way and let time transpire into moonlight
Appreciate this moment to be here and alive
And enjoy the finer things in life
I like to stray to on those long nights spent in my room
Take a slow cigarette and pass
Just fall back on my pillow and relax, drift to sleep
Promise me you'll still be here this time...

The Manipulator Meets a Jester

Just a little more than angry. Sending signals. Spinning silk deception over miles and miles of an invisible inforway. With the Keys to this heat underfoot and hurricanes swirling in from the Far East, an advantage. Dual prepositions juxtaposed and the meaning lost in a string of angsty poetry and cryptic lines about a subtle, aching suffering. Torn across the skin and leaving signs, directions to follow across the chest. A seat in a panhandle. Iron and smooth. Brittle and hard. Breaking. How do things get so crazy and just seem to crumble into forgotten pieces? Is this how you want? Is this the only way we've left to desire? There's a face in the background, a whisper stitching through the backdrop.

Pushing. I knew a liar once.

I saw you there.

I'll bet he still knows how to cry. Just ask him. Think he's faking again? I'll bet he doesn't know. I'll bet there's a tunnel. Journey to the center of nothing. Keep waiting for the light. Close your eyes and keep waiting. You can't be disappointed if you're only stricken blind. Keep hoping. Keep writing breathing. Lying. To yourself.

Just stop.

Archangel (Not the Devil)

And ghosts from the past
Just keep coming back
With clenched fingers wrapped tight
Sucking me dry
Beckoning me right in with arms inviting
Pray
The devil coming round for charity
God begging on the corner again
Angels and demons lost in my eyes
We're all just people
More parts of the choir
Preaching right back to the same
With pointed fingers and accusations
Working up a sweat, lashing in
All against ourselves
In the pulpit crying
The congregation on its knees
Passing around concussions
With peyote vipers
Soma spilling over
We're all just foaming at the will
Passing out
This eats me alive and empty to the quick