falling leaves

Leaves gasping for breath.

tools of mischief

Oh, the possibility of you.

murderer

One more thing before I go
One more thing I'll ask you Lord
You may need a murderer
Someone to do your dirty work

Don't act so innocent
I've seen you pound your fist into the earth
And I've read your books
It seems that you could use another fool
Well I'm cruel
And I look right through

You must have more important things to do
So if you need a murderer
Someone to do your dirty work

Low - Drums and guns

A Tall Doorway

Funny faces live on in photographs forever. But it's so difficult to recreate them. If it were up to me (which it clearly is not), time wouldn't be so much an ongoing burden and bringer of sadness, so much as a way out when one is needed. If I could only stop time (and occasionally rewind), then I would welcome it when it pushes through eras and into bold new frontiers. But I'm a speck, you're a speck...everyone's a specky speck. My frontiers and eras are laughable. But sometimes they seem pretty large to me. Anyways, a poem for another fall.

Dear fall,
How have you been?
You fell asleep and things got cold.
My bones grew brittle, my lungs air-tight.
A ghost came to me, maybe it wasn't a ghost.
It was too dark to tell.
And then the light came in and the scenes became warm.
But it wouldn't last. It couldn't.
I knew you would arrive soon because I saw the leaves fall.
You hurt them. But I'm over that. And soon they'll get over it too.
Promise not to be blunt. Be charming. Sit with me.
Don't act quickly, don't be a brick wall.
Be a tall doorway (painted a deep thick red). Lead in to something.
Inside something.
Fall? Are you even listening?
Geez.

tommy vs. the storm

September likes to call on me for many different things
it's tossing me in to a storm without a life jacket
to see what fun it brings
what it can't see, is that inside me, I'm really not that strong
there's a little boy, a little heart, and a little voice that sings
this tiny little song

lake

a time and place for discussion.

impassable love

an impassable love that is buried within me.
i think you've done your part without trying.
i could swim through the pacific,
i could do a great many things.
it would be a hell of a lot easier than forgetting you and all of your beauty.
but for this impassable feeling that exists in the room,
when we are not alone.
when i'm away from home.
i can't hide.