Big Top

She belongs to the wind,
she's as free as a breeze
and when I see her smile,
you know I drop to my knees
Cause baby you don't know it,
but you've got a hold of me
But I'm too far gone,
from where I need to be.....

As she belongs to no one
And she's free as the breeze
As I wonder what to do?
all I see is the beauty in you,
As all the full moons pale to compare
but all I want is your love to share.

In the circus of love
under the fallen Big Top.

YOU

Is it because I miss you
when I close my eyes?
As I realize as time flies bye....
That we are meant to be
both physically and spiritually
Helping each other
through our pain
holding one another
knowing no one is to blame
moving on and not looking back
because when I close my eyes,
it's you looking back.

Mother Nature

Forces of nature
hear them blow
tress wrap against windows
eerie sounds we don't know
as we look out the windows
at the papers as they blow
trash is thrown up in a whirl
in twister of emotion
released to the world
shredded and in pain

Infinite Sadness

Sit and stare,
start to cry.
Stop and think,
wonder why?
There are no blue pills,
to get me by.
So I sit and smoke
my troubles away,
but low-and-behold
they're still there
the next day.

Oysters Anyone?

Will I die alone
with no one,
and no where
to call home?
Or will I open up my eyes,
looking, it's not a surprise,
that the world
is my oyster,
if I let it be.

Wake the Fuck Up!

There is no life without love.
At least none worth living.
There isn't a woman,
I haven't met that that I haven't loved,
for 5 minutes to 10 years.
But people have a way
of blinking,
and missing the moment,
even when it slaps them silly.
But if you meet a beauty who
blesses you with her beauty and a kiss,
you kiss her back, because you don't know
where the moment will take you.

Growing Up

Whose heart will be broken today?
While I try and mend,
try and figure out which direction,
life's highway wants me to travel.
Mending the holes
left by the stolen street signs of life.
Potholes, seldom patched, making
life's journey bumpier and bumpier.
Road trips leave new mental Polaroids.
But the journey back home
will always be filled with potholes and speed bumps.

Inner Reflection

In my life
it's the little things
I need to see through,
Addicted to everything,
addicted to everyone
but you.....The Truth

Soup kitchen

So here I am mon frere
and please try not to steer
As I pretend to
try and not care
Who you are and
who you been with
Words of caution stop
acts of sin.
As I lay here,
you win.
the battle of the mind
forward, backwards
always in rewind
struggling to make ends meet
while trying not to beat
oneself to a pulp
while just trying to bring
some good luck
but always, always ending up stuck.

To My Friend.

Crying eyes, and wounded knees.
Leave us feeling unachieved.
But rejoice in the stories told
and always remember those lives we've lost.
Know each is a precious gift
no matter what they cost,
they'll always give you a lift.
So brush yourself off,
and keep on keeping on,
smile brightly, and hold your head high,
then you'll always know
it's okay to cry.

A Smile on the Train

Stealing looks
Little glances
Hoping that our
Eyes meet by chance
Eyes are embracing
Always chasing
Times a wasting
Why are we always waiting?

A fun challenge

Wandering minds start to wonder
why pirates, rape, pillage and plunder?
Why oceans are polluted by the masses?
where are all the honey bee's, why all the lapses?
What's will all the earthquakes?
And crazy weather, why does Mother Nature have to hate?
Can't we all just masterbate?
That would surely make us all happy.
Maybe end the papal making little boys feel crappy?
And then we could all be Sarah Palin
traveling the country, giving speeches, wondering who she's banging?
But these are just the thoughts of a wandering mind.
Imagine if I could get it together?
Oh what a time!

Hoodie

Why do you hide?
She asked him?
It protects me, my hood,
it wraps me and shrouds me from the outside.
I let in what I want to.
So it is a defense mechanism? she asks.
Yes, in some ways it is.
She interjects, But I wasn't talking of your hood.
Oh, well my my hood is my metaphor for life.
So if you ask why I hide, I'll simply refer you to my hood.
Or my hat. Either one, I can hide within.
I like hiding. It's safe.
Will you ever come out? She asks with a glimmer of hope......
I don't know. Part of me wishes I could live in my hood.
But much of life would be missed living in the hood.

WASH ME

Emotions, like words written in dirt,
on the back of trucks
can be washed away,
with a good cleansing rain.
A rain known often
falls down bearded cheeks
clearing the mind,
what is left of it.