Music

My longing drips from every note and I’m quite tired from it

The truth is others dance away while I am fated to sit

The aching seems to fuel the band of devils in this cruel world

What do I sing of hope and love to the woman and the girl?

2nd Story Window

What’s been in our window’s way, I don’t know

How many promising nights did we wait

Sun gracing each season’s skies through the years
That’s what they claimed all those arduous days
But our eyes didn’t see
What our skin didn’t feel

Now comes the end, so the calendar sings
Belt it out here, with me
Not a song that tells you you’ve got to go home
Instead check the window sign

You’re not alone

Coupling

Something about 6 thirty
A.M.
Coffee calling
Birds beckoning
You

Something about 10 minutes
Absent-mindedly
Clutching comfort
Begin burning
Me

Song at the ready
Matchstick in hand
In harmony
Afire for it
We

Rockstar

In the perfect of now, get in line

Come see my spine
Singing prettily
My strong, fractured song

Standing upright, dancing, sprinkling
Cinnamon-sugar safety

In the spotlight of my doorstep

Radio Silence

Ok, Change gods, have your holy way
For, with me or without me, you’ll carry on today
I choose, with me, my goal remains to grow

Now move upon your mandate, I’ll close my eyes and go
As you adjust the channel, I’ll hold on, right or wrong
Spin me up a new song, I’ll learn to sing along

Over

There was that night
An only slightly dimmed light

There was that song I sang to you –I believe you sang back– about being crazy ‘ bout you
An ode I’m inclined to replay over and over and over in my mind, in hopes that I’d grow tired

There was that us celebrating love
An honest Thanksgiving

Just Sunshine

I am told of a song worth singing

That the curveball I ought throw life, in perfect pitch, sounds something like this:

“I’m gonna love you like no one has hurt me
I’ve known just sunshine
Wild imagination, deeply invested
Forever, we’re fine”

This, the lore, these sage storytellers I keep company with implore I believe that

A song I must sing, I am told

Original Thought Credit: “Come Rain or Come Shine;” Music and lyrics by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer, respectively.

Magician’s Scarf

Who each woman is

Does she smell like lavender fields

More worthy of obsession with each passing Day

Why the fabric of her dress upon her skin causes men to sing?

The Earth springs forth, as I imagine, musical notes with her every step. Yes.

Such passion must she follow, as to leave us inspired

Her smile draws from an endless-deep joy well

Words from her soul have him come hither, a pulling of magician’s scarf