the morning is coming-.

and that’s not good enough.

The magic hides on a hill North from here

and it waits.

The porridge and eggs in the morning

it’s fine for those looking to stay sheltered from the storm

but why.

Hiding from the extra beauty and adventure

is lying to yourself.

Feeding yourself

triumph these mountains yourself-

wasting time on the comfort of knowing

what will happen tomorrow

that is enough for some

the window watchers

and the bench riders.

Don’t play their game.

Explore, live- try

to see the colors on the other side and experience

truth.

For him it’s North- for you

maybe closer.

Yet, will applaud those with the safe option-

not everyone has that on the menu-

but when it’s there, promise me,

you’ll chase that magic-

it doesn’t reveal itself

to everyone.

a charade funeral

just to see if anyone would

show.

validation that time well spent was

well-

well enough to leave timed marking on the Earth

and few cheap roses.

he’ll stand in the back-

in zero eyes

and he’ll watch.

some close-

some making appearances to say they came to clear an unclear conscious-

only to go home and finish the bottle they’ve been working on

since the sun rose.

a couple of lovers- a few that brought their new children

a few that remember the good times

a few that wish they never stopped.

a brother who couldn’t keep it together

he still carries around the toy guitar key chain he got on Christmas-

tight in a clutch today.

he’ll make note of those that didn’t show

those that couldn’t say goodbye

those strong enough too-

a ghost with a pen.

the service was garbage-

but no one cared-

they cried with a memory in their mind

and words they never spoke in their heart.

sitting in the bottom of a well

and the light is my anchor.

holding me together and holding me down-

the slightest of rope will tingle down-

and be ripped away.

the light- looks perfect from here

a land explored and forgotten

a chance to stand and create for the martyrs.

soft to the touch

skin so vacant the air marked as trespassing

contact of these cold bricks is the warmth

of the sun and quiet of the moon

all in a convenient place.

The rope will return-

dangle and pull

the climb is always short-lived

before cut down.

the links of time crawl like worms around my toes

and I’ll shove them down my throat

to taste what could be-

before death can come near the rope will return

and dangle.

 

swear it. by the old and the new

will walk through this fire and shred

the common like sheep in Winter.

trials of the eel never taint the old way

but bring promise to the new

stings of truth in gorge of the outer rim

taste the fruit of our adventure

swear it. and i’ll ride along side

until the grey rules the mane above my brow

and the eyes sink towards the Earth

the old will rise along the moon

and the new will rule this world

as we did.

swear it. and I’ll curse this time

with one last try

in your lying goodbye

till our time runs dry.

two different people at the controls

mayhem and madness-

fourth of july is a prayer before dinner.

Tighten your hold

sweet embrace

I saw you on that stage

you touched a part of me

and I was trying to hide.

You shine and retain

every in of beauty you bless

us basic humans with

eyes that will touch deep

deep in our palms.

Yet, you isolated me

stranded in an oasis with

Aphrodite’s twin

touch of an angel

lips you’ll remember in deaths game.

and you’re still here.

Layer and layer of high beams

and you’ll prop me up,

and I’ll do the same

and will hold this planet up to our heels

existing in two different point

of time

Flash Point.

Barry won’t destroy this one

more than I already did.

No regrets though right-

can’t look one way and cross the other

two-way street   came to find cover

let alone finding a peace of mind

stay on my mind

you know you do.

living for today

but seeing yesterday

in my rear view mirror

truly closer than it appears

warning signs

ain’t no such thing as Satan

evil is what you make it.

Preach.

Hott gospel in one

and out the other-

just a memory

and I’ll still be here while they burn

in the back of mind with shrilled evil

one at a time.

the vibrations

attack my hand like a need

a need for a fix.

holding myself close

the shakes come and go

shaking free

shaking loose- not loose enough

before the home

 

come on home

this is our treehouse

missing on two by four and a nail

a dream come true

our six-year-old selves are giddy

shaking loose never loose enough

 

climbing up and up

high enough and we’re a little dizzy

staying up all night memory is a little fuzzy

stars charmed the pants off us- got a little snuggly

 

the home remains- dishes washed and floor cleaned

door bell missing and a two steps or four.

 

livin’ in my dreams

inside my head

hidin’ fighting sleep

scarin’ myself to death.

 

can’t live forever

with my head in the clouds

heart in the clouds

keepin’ my feet on the ground

and you

will chase- chase me down.

 

knew we had to get away

from the storm

knew we had to get away

all along.

 

we live in a wonderland

like blood isn’t on our hands

with these eyes

I’ll chase everything.

Soaring above

sore in the morning

love never came cheap

if it did it wasn’t real

you pay for what you get.

these eyes will want

everything- the way you walk

turns heads

and you’ll never pay them a dime

the way your words capture my ears

my eyes feel

jealousy.

I can’t stand when you are not here

the bed doesn’t seem as comfortable

the love is never as pure

as satisfying

never as sore in the morning

soaring above- searching

the third eye- searching

perched on your door step

ringing the doorbell