The Lotus Eater

He recognized recognition on their hollow faces
But he's the gentler person--I know--
with a humble smile
a lifetime ago

With their arms ablazing
tearing the spear, the fire,
the gentle beast lays at night
holding his breath,
ragged and cold,
under the moonless sky

With his humble smile,
a lifetime ago,
the pain will never reach his eyes,
the gentle beast sleeps...
under the moonless sky

Amsterdam Clouds

These Amsterdam clouds,
have nothing on me.
No pull, no touch.
Total disconnect.

It paints itself in whispers and crow feet,
taunting every passerby
with its taut breasts,
bold and courageous
like any harlot
on every street
on every man’s lap,
waiting for a quick fix,
cigarette powder decorating each light,
holding on for dear life.

Oh—These Amsterdam clouds,
have no thrill,
for an old broom
like me.

But your love is infinite,
as I carry you around,
for six sinful years,
through European streets,
through years of fears,
that my love for you is so complete.

Oh– These Amsterdam clouds,
have no thrill,
for a lonesome ache,
that you weep in me.

The only Mark that stains my heart.

He Liked the Idea of Me

He liked the idea of me,
the dream
the soft skin and brown eyes,
only his to see

He liked the idea of me,
more than my dreams,
the soft skin and brown eyes
locked in a golden clock
only his to hear

He liked the idea of me,
less than his dreams,
on stage every night,
for everyone to see.

He lost the idea of me,
no more dreams
the soft skin and brown eyes
flew away
beyond his reach

I like the idea of him,
in my dreams.
But the soft skin and green eyes
are nowhere to be seen...

Endless Vine

It’s just a fantasy,
It’s just a dream;
having you, kissing me,
holding on tight,
like you’ve never stopped before.

Your hands trail the back of my mind,
you whisper your secrets,
twirled in an endless vine.

I cry but I choke on my own smoke,
for these wounds they won’t heal,
while your sway is a two-way street,
and your love is lost forever.

I never forgot your devilish laugh,
like a forgotten hiccup,
of days past fast.

Your fingers feel like ghosts on these cold nights,
when I need you the most,
I had said no more--
now I’m begging for more;
why aren’t you near?

It’s just a fantasy,
It’s just a dream;
I have you,
you kiss me,
I never said goodbye--
You never stopped loving me.

TLK

TLK

Kiss me, mi’lady,
let the kiss be the cause
of the years
of the days
we’ll have for us.

Kiss me, mi’lady,
let the poison be the season
for the hardships
for the rain
we’ll stray for us.

Truthfully you are mine;
Like a flower bend to its twine;
Kiss me, mi’lady and…

Tomorrow we’ll have for us;
Let the kiss be the deciding cause;
Kiss me, mi’lady and…

True Love’s Kiss shall be ours!

Spoke in the Wheel

Spoke in the Wheel

He’ll go on pretending,
like he’s not a spoke in her wheel,
the fish on the line.

She’ll call a spade a spade,
with the love of a nun,
the soul of a maid.

The sun will come up,
showing its russet wings.
The eloquence by which she speaks,
layers of a farce,
wrapped up in shame--
or maybe grief?

The earth will cast its virginal son,
with the eyes of a priest,
the sin of the Lord.

No matter what you call yourself now;
you’ll always be the spoke in her wheel,
the fish on the line.