Where the Lovers Go


I live where the real people live
Where the beggars beg
And the givers give

I want to go where the lovers go
Where time passes but not so slow
And there’s no difference between the fool’s gold

As dawn breaks the sun pierces the clouds
The dew drops
But the rain is never loud

For some, tomorrow will bring sorrow
Others will return upon what they borrow

Left abandoned and creating rust
Only a few can you trust

Hypocrisy shines a bright light through the stained glass
As the saints and the sinners return to mass

We walk together
Only some are free

But I’d rather be where the lovers be


After a Dream

Andrew Newell Wyeth

Painting by: Andrew Newell Wyeth

My eyes grew weary from the heat filled room with eastward facing windows. The sun continues to turn my bed into a furnace as it shines through the glass during the hottest part of the day. As temperatures rise my eyes continue to gain more weight until they are too heavy to stay open. When my eyelids close out the sunshine all that is left is darkness.

The light kept out allows for a canvas of imagination. Dreams dwindling down the rope of the pulled curtain and left on the stage is the show. But, on this day I have discovered, even there you find me. My escape in my dreams, this hidden fantasy, a place where I can shut everyone out and welcome only those who are welcome, you find me there. You’ve walked into my room on this stage, entering the door as if it’s your own. I leap from the place I have fallen and land into the sea of your arms, until you melt away. You’ve left me on my own stage, in my own imagination, alone with you melted on the floor. Even here, in my own world, created with my own mind, my thoughts, my hopes, my dreams, you’ve conquered me. I’ve fallen again, not just in the reality created by all men, but here in my world, I’ve fallen again. I am a fool.

So I’ve awoke from this dream and found myself laying back down in this hot, hot, eastward facing room. And I will stay here, for if I step out the desert breeze will only fill toxic sand in my lungs. I am left with nothing but these dreams I no longer have control of. The welcomed, the unwelcome- entering in and out. I allow my eyes to grow heavy to avoid toxicity within the desert air, for the wine stained clouds that float above this house never pour. Leaving the sun to continue to shine in these eastward facing windows and leaving you, the unwelcome, to enter on that stage door.

Solo Yo


Porque te fuiste sin regresar
No tengo una foto de ti
Solo mi memoria

No recuerdo cómo se sienten tus besos
Todo lo que queda es tu olor en mi almohada
Porque te fuistes

The smoke floated gently to the sky
As I looked at the moon

Miro al cielo para ver tus ojos

A million stars look back
But I can never find you there
Sólo me veo yo

Sólo yo
Sólo yo
Sólo yo

Porque te fuiste



In front of us we see light
Behind us we see the past
Around us darkness
With a loss of cognition

But my love, it’s just you and I
Lost in this transition

The blind walk into the opaque with ease
Reaching the light with grace
Not fearful of the unknown
Not frightened by mistakes

It’s those, it’s us, who’ve walked this path before
We shake

In front of us is fantasy
Behind us are memories
Around us fear
With attrition

I’ll pick up your fallen pieces
If only you pass the paste
Because, my love, we mustn’t fall into remission



Blind in Paris


His hand on her back guided down the strap of her purse

Sight with feel
And love with the heart

Blind in paris
Seeing the art with his hands
Hearing the art as she sings
He smiles

His touch is him looking her in the eyes
Symbolizing endearment
She feels him
She knows

This piece masterfully crafted in his mind
With images only he can retrieve

She gives him a blank canvas
Using love as the primary color

Blind in paris see more than you know
For it is with feeling in which they proceed.