I’ll walk in line

as I draw it myself

Happy ever after

single hint

never mentioned the purest moments

fine print.

It’s the mirror, kaleidoscope

moving history in my eyes, floating:

The first kiss

the first month

the first fight

makeup

makeup again

meeting the parents

they still hate me

you wear my ring

the night we got our first dog from the rescue shelter

we called him Raisin.

never mentioned the purest moments

single hint.

Breaking promises

it wasn’t her- words tripped a long the checkered flag

threw the ring

phone doesn’t ring

still with her mom

they really hate me now

haven’t seen Raisin in a week

have never felt this weak.

Happily ever after

the fine print.

Sister is getting married

she stole our wedding plans

down the Rockies along the river bank

we laughed and hoped she tripped

not really though

but maybe just a small trip

you stole the show

and I remembered,

It’s the mirror.

Bad Days will come

Bad Weeks will follow

Bad Months will drag

a single hint?

No one ever mentioned the purest moment

was the Bad, the happy ever after, the fine print

and we danced.

Lakeside and Rockies,

I see them in my dreams

and in pen.

Fresh landing

momentum carrying strong

dicing like craps.

I’ll never stop.

Breaking boards with my mind

line down targets until I find

these quiet Rockies.

The River calls to me,

I’ll take just my pen

honey in a jar

night in the vale

and I’ll row down that River.

Bowie said it was be more glamorous,

Angles dancing, life isn’t taking you nowhere, run from the shadow.

I’ve seen the angels dance, but I’ll be damned

if the shadow locks down a single minute

of dancing time with my Angel.

We paid the price, twice

hell- three times over and the black coat comes again.

Streets coated in arms

saved centuries ago

and protected today.

The line was drawn

the trigger was pulled

and the price is being paid.

The receipt runs wild

the bank sewed shut

with a no return policy.

She watched the clock night and night again waiting for a time

a time that clock skipped.

cuckoo cuckoo

she skipped through locked doors and gated communities

sirens chased, dogs barked, children cried.

Whistling old man cursed as she ran through his lawn and picked up the phone.

Grasped it in her hand, watching the bird retreat to its nest.

Shaking.

Crying(not alone) breath on the other end.

The absence of dial tone speaks louder then then voice.

Anticipation breaks through her skin like Alien on a ship.

The clocks song ends, and skips, quiet breath and a silent sob.

You ever miss someone you talk to all the time?

To feel them closer than the finger nails to the touch

the eye to the lash

pirate to the ship

sailing to get back to you faster to tell you

you’ll never need someone else.

The warning sign reads: selfish

selfish to want you all to myself

the wheel wouldn’t resist, if it could

anchor in the middle of the ocean

when your song is sung aloud.

Dive in the icy pond and swim-_swim

towards land for the last first time.

I dwell on goodbyes.

Not for the person leaving, the feeling afterwards.

The two night return on a whim

the loss of a close friend

the birth of a daughter.

The dwelling on the future that is inevitable

on the brink of return

he’ll linger

maybe he sees the same future

the one of two barbecues a year

the wedding of his sister

burying the family dog.

He wants to stay, (he needs to)

the fortune assigned in his cookie

drags him away into an olive life

under a plum bush

deep underground

holding himself.

He’ll leave

but he’ll be back

because no one ever leaves

The Fun House Mirrors.

insecurity carries the shadows forward in the night

the bowl of spilled water vanishes under the suns twin.

 

I lay awake drifting in and out

on a severed cloud barely a spec of fluff left.

Left leg swinging, arms behind thy head, watching-

watching the stars tell a story of time never heard by ears

never passed along on pen or tongue.

Stories of heroes, stories of the heroes that conquered the land above.

Stories of thee earnest, thy great descendants watching me

as I beg for an encore, they close their curtains.

Stories of love, the ones close enough to the sun to feel

stranded

on a cloud begging for the ropes to hold tighter

to hold longer in the grip of the tale to hear thee end.

To learn, to ride the sun, it burns the worst

it’s the truth I promise-

the real thing it is, not passing by

circling like a vulture waiting for death,

on a cloud below.

Did I take it too far?

I saw you from across the room

a smile of shy delight and the eyes of

an angle painted in the sky and I said

hi – I couldn’t muster much more without spilling mustard on the floor.

Did I take it too far?

The morning I thought you were gone

the bracelet of my home I applied it to your arm

and I watched you

walk

back into the raft and paddle upstream

pouring my life on the mic downstream

close encountered that lightning that struck twice

and I was alone.

Did I take it too far?

I did that time- and I was sorry

the truth came out on Baffin Bay

blasting day and you didn’t stop.

We danced we sang we laughed in the rain

and I didn’t want to stop but

Did I take it to far-

off the rocker in my head the clouds spelled clear the clouds

and make the lean mean machine with a heart skip the trip to Oz.

Can hear Aunty raising her voice to sweet pedals

bashing the box weak little fox- stand back-

this isn’t your night

Did I take it to far-

applied to be the stunt man of the past

so I can do everything that they were too afraid to do

I checked weekends and holidays

called Aunty again to remind her

that I took it too far.