The Dishes Had Piled UP High in Her Mind.....

my dear,

don't miss the forest for the trees
he said
they were in manhattan
and she wasn't sure which forest he was talking about

the dishes had piled up high
in her mind
stacks of filth
and soggy bread crusts
lost ideals
sunk deep in the wilted lettuce sink drain
tumbling backwards in time
and undoing all the beauty
that could ever exist forever between them
replaced with memories of childhood furies,
and the failures of parentals
with muttered curses
she uttered under
dried egg yolk stuck
scratched teflon pans

and he would walk by it all
and ask her to dance
what an inappropriate activity when there was work to be done
cleaning, organizing
buying
lists
upon lists
upon lists
and things to clean the things you clean your things with...
and he walked right by it all to sit high
on the urban mountains called "roof"

as he sat on the top of the building
the world an open valley
 anywhere he perched was his castle
she would look up at him as he gazed dreamily upon inner landscapes
remember. 
she could remember him when she saw him like that
softer days
when love made their feet touch feet
and their touching feet made their life tingle with meaning and joy
when she wanted to share every secret, every joy, each little story and big dream
where she whispered sweet promises of forever to him

and he told her
'we can decide upon forever when first you meet me here'
i have been waiting for you for 40 days and 40 nights
just show up
come back
all will be well
with love and kindness
do not forget
what can be
and loose the forest for the trees...

but they were in manhattan
walking down another street
there was no forest as far as the eye could see
but right in front of her was a maple tree.

Kurt Vonnegut and Easter

i will be back in an hour he said
as he grabbed his hat and left
the feeling of sunset arising early in the morning
left Mary's head spinning.

it seemed they had only just begun.

the kitchen smelled of caraways seeds and olive oil
on Easter Sunday
all the butter and fluff and tinsel
couldn't make up for too much familiarity

after an hour had passed
it seemed eternity did an impression
of 2000 years of human turmoil
filled with misunderstanding
of what is sacred
what is seed
what is fruit
and where was he?

so she grabbed her hat and stepped out.
feeling naked as she combed the city searching

the grass was pregnant with eggs
and every passerby
was a parade of apparitions
pale imitations of him
that faded when she neared.

as she wandered
as she wondered
what would come next?
one thought echoed down through eternity
from a great master
who saw straight to the heart of humanity...

 "Since Alice had never received any religious instruction, and since she had led a blameless life, she never thought of her awful luck as being anything but accidents in a very busy place. Good for her."

"So it goes."  - Kurt Vonnegut

Letters

Letters

i have written you many,

at night,

dim light,

light of the moon,

not hurried, not sullen,

contemplative,

i swoon.

i write them in pencil,

in case i mistake.

i write them in sweet,

i write them in gray.

a silhouette of all that i feel

i yield,

and let it become real...

i move it thru my hand....

a scratch on the pad,

a memory, a vision,

a thought that i had

and then like an itch

in one foul stroke

i crumble it up,

all that i wrote

i wanted to tell you

about the wind,

and the way it caresses

so many things....

and it reminds me of a way late, late at night

before the dew cracks

and thoughts of night,

to run my hands down the small of your back....

alas....

my hand stops on the page...

and crumbles it up,

to send it away...

each scribbled word,

each uttered ideal.

each shattered world,

each humble appeal.

and lights it on fire,

like a pine-bough in the night,

all faces revealed,

in the flaring of light.

un-uttered, un-heard.

i lost every word,

with the light of a match...

everything i said, burned...

each fumbled sentence revealing a sweetness;

i could not let you catch.

cause i never could send

a thing that i wrote.

so i set them on fire.

each 

individual 

note.

Silent Refrain

A face in the pouring rain
glaring eyes shooting fire
the anger drops on freezing ground
a dead man cannot feel the pain
he mumbles...
a dead man cannot feel pain
every tragic person's silent refrain

but how do you live if you are dead inside?


Shuffle, shuffle, sleeping masses
pre-conditioned madness
no one looks up from their sorrows
the clear sky
is right beside illusion's horrors
they just tear and squabble with each other
what a bother!


will you climb the ladder or keep your head down?

The house was locked
the heart was locked
all down tight
no one move
don't turn on a light
don't blink
don't think
no one wink
wait,
what are we hiding from?

all I ever wanted
was someone super sweet
with happy feet
a warm heart beat
a man who thinks adventures neat
who likes to laugh, and hum and take baths
who stumbles, but lands on his feets or able hands
when I breath, I can't help but wonder, baby
why are you so mad at me?

Not God, just call me Andy

If sunlight were
a cheaper thrill
I'd drink it like the wine
I spill
down empty throat that's calling

If your smile were
a hundred mile jaunt
Like lilies
each dimple landing taunt
every time you smile dear
I have trouble standing

She throws the knife
most precise
into her own poor heart
but when I handed her the mirror
so she could appear-er dearer
I knew not a shard would
slice her life in strife
her mind a jilted hearer

He begs the difference
of two strong winds
creating up a storm
but then he cries
alas my house
when from the ground its torn

The monkey leaps from limb to limb
and tickles branch's fancy
he wonders if the clouds fair game
he's feeling kinda antsy


She wins
a turn on second thought
apparently with pacing
but now
she's not
so sure herself
she should even be racing

Ground to a halt
it's not my fault
I'm really not a Dandy
I'm just a little lonely, girl
and that hair gel was so handy
but now that you have commandeered
my attention, and my randy
I'd happily agree
join the cult of me
Not God, just call me Andy

The ScareCrow inside me

Cinder crushed her delicate foot as she placed her weight upon it,
what is she doing, all alone, walking through that old garden?

Her hand holds shakily in winter's chill,
that rusted old lantern!
the weeds are tearing silently, clothes hung on for nocturne.

Looking, looking, for a piece of each dear one to remember...
they all grew here once upon a time, but now it is December.

Each one she loved, with broken hugs, from her distant castle...
for it wasn't till they all had passed, that brave she could come down here.

Her heart beaks open ever more,
Nothing but ashes grows here no more!
Time has sealed the cellar door,
And emptied the garden's branches.
With soft wind, in shaky light, an old scarecrow dances into the night!
without the life of her dear ones,
her insides no more than branches.

In My Mother's Wake....

Midnight rustle against brittle leaves
Her dreams bound down by tight sleeves
She drifted through the lovely eve
no thought caught hold of her own reprieve

A demon pounced upon soul weakness
exploiting the story of her bliss
to make her chase her own abyss
soon he even owned her kiss
a hiss...

She had been a golden child
Luck and looks and all the while
Everything you could want all in a pile
So she walked away, that was her style

She left each one and their offers
For each of us wanted something from her
A mother, a daughter, sister, brother
She chose always the same, same lover

Her golden hues became broken brown
her lovely locks fallen down
her children lived on foreign ground
and all her pain she drowned...
all her pain she drowned.

She had a twinkle in her eye
The demon hadn't sucked that dry
but you couldn't say you didn't try
To laugh and live and thrive
She made the best of us cry
She made all of us cry

I wish it had gone another way
held another to her lips to pray
If she'd known the beauty she could have been today...
she could have made a whole world sway.
I dream of tea, and talk, and thought and hey,
anything can change, right, anything, anyway?

Yeah, I tried. So many days, days, and days and now...
The lilac scent is summer's breeze, anyhow
the moon rises, pushes, and the stars allow
we all miss who we thought would become a wow
Instead of numb, a sweet blossom opened out
All her memories to ashes, soot from bow
and the waves come crashing down
She's with her maker now
may he take her now
and show her anyhow
that her peace is now

no more worry
or hurry

lost snowflake in a bright light flurry
lost twinkle in a sky of blinking stars
lost wrinkle in a soul of healing scars
last thought in a world lost to you
last breath as it breaths right through the exit of you
last words I spoke to you, they were so few, and I wish they were truer
and the last truth you felt couldn't have been any newer...
and the waves came crashing down.

May you find your joy.
May you find your light in the dark night
May the ferry carry you across still or turbulent seas
To set down your little feet on ground that embraces you

May you suffer no more.

May you find your joy.