Fleets of Thought (4/2018)

Fleets of Thought (4/2018)

From my mountain I survey the sea,
Always the one questioning.
What do people think of me?

Waves of watered down people
Walking beneath.
I don’t think they’ll ever see
That they’re half of who they used to be.

Hidden by a cloud,
They come to me in fleets.
I come to me and leave.

My youth’s fountain pushes me
Toward the parts of me to be,
The parts to leave,
And everything I think I’ll need
To get me through today.

Waves of little lost people
Lying beneath.
I don’t think they’ll ever see
That they’re who they said they’d never be.

Silence screams out loud.
They come to me in fleets.
I come to me and leave
To get me through the day.

This Place (4/2018)

This Place (4/2018)

This town was alive.
This town fell asleep on me.
It doesn’t say a word.
This town is dreaming.

This loud is quiet.
This loud fell asleep on me.
It doesn’t answer calls.
This loud is dreaming.

What’s loud was all soundless.
This place was this town
And it all sounds like dreaming.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.

No common sense,
Or is it all censored?
Everything’s projected.

This place used to jive.
This place fell asleep on me.
It doesn’t dance at all.
This place is dreaming.

This sound was secret.
This sound fell asleep on me.
It doesn’t know it’s heard.
This sound is dreaming.

Picture of Baltimore (4/2018)

Picture of Baltimore (4/2018)

I lost myself in Baltimore.
I went out walking,
My thoughts didn’t carry their own weight.
I thought a walk before the night got going would work.
I walked alone.
Didn’t know where I went.

I had a cup of coffee,
A couple of smokes
And a talk with myself,
But nobody listened.

I went out walking in Baltimore.
One crow in my ears near the park.
It was dark.
I went out walking
And I was already lost.

‘I know I have it within me.
Not sure I can do this without you.’
Angels couldn’t believe the latter.

I remember every turn.
Store. Me. Corner.
You’ll run the show, nobody will know.

You don’t see it.
Take a picture, take it all.

I passed myself sitting on a corner.
Praying for change.
I was out talking to me,
Tearing a hole in my twilight.
Nobody was listening.

Move them slow,
Nobody will know.

I lost myself in Baltimore.
And you just took a picture.

Drawn Faces (3/2018)

Drawn Faces (3/2018)

Foot off the pedal and you’re gone.

Going where these tires take us.
We’re tired.
I was breathing.
The pane showed fingerprints,
Clouds were seeping,
I saw drawn faces in the fog.

Through eyes, moving mountains.
Yellow lines leading nowhere
But places we’ve never been.

We couldn’t be brought down.

Showing wear, these tires cartwheel.
They’re tired.
Barely breathing.
Down the dust in the mist.
Clowns were weeping
And you drew faces in the fog.

Through eyes, moving mountains.
Yellow lines leading nowhere
But places we’ve never been.

We couldn’t be brought down.
I’ve only been where I had to go to get here.

Over there a bus rolls.
In a smile I see the road.
I’ll never know where nowhere is.

Speechless Stories (3/2018)

Speechless Stories (3/2018)

Those you spend your time with,
That is where you’re going.
Get left speechless and turn it into a story.

You’re a little work of art, aren’t you?
Your mama colored you in.
Stayed in the lines,
Little too perfect now, aren’t you?

Go to work in my head, won’t you?
One of those and two of these,
Maximize deficiencies.
Little too perfect, work. Won’t you?

Spend the night with the sun, do you?
Rubik’s cube, circles and swine.
Cubicle, weekend, your time.
You never leave yourself, do you?

You keep one little lie, don’t you?
Hidden roots, dance through with grace.
Ballerina, so straight faced.
You do believe yourself, don’t you?

Subways felt the city breathe.
You left me speechless
And turned me into a story.

Stamp the Sky (3/2018)

Stamp the Sky (3/2018)

Looking out from her rooftop
As her life walks right by.
Sees stairs to her ceiling,
She’s always wanted to climb.

Drawn feathers on her shoulder,
Green eyes, a quick smile,
She colors the sky.
Stamps purples with fingerprints.
Colors clouds so bright that
Even when it’s dark,
There’s still a little light.

And she’s never worried about the lines.

She stops, soaking the silence.
How could it all be wrong?
She says, ‘When I’m with you,
Today is never too long.’

She wound up on a rooftop.
She’s a stone, skipped through life.
And she steals the evening
While hearts are committing crimes.

But she’s never worried about the lines.
Colors feathers with her fingertips.
Walks right by.
She walks right by.

Kick the Fire (3/2018)

Kick the Fire (3/2018)

We walk through the weather
Writing our own book.
And you look like the ocean,
Waving as I look.

The cards are in the music.
The dealer’s gone to hell.
Don’t care about the prophets
We’ve heard that they’ll do well.

Backyard, mansion, dancing.
Buzzing, the birds and the bee.
Pigs on two feet.
When owls can’t fly,
Cows kick the fire and we’re all alright.

Sand from broken castles
Hides between your toes.
As you walk up your mountain
And no one seems to know.

In back with the whole circus,
The people we keep near.
Rooster’s on the cymbals,
They’re celebrating years.

Stolen prophets.
Roosters really care.
Cows kicking fire.
This Arizona air.