a dime.

my heavy eyes
rest peacefully on the
air between
and so does the frail
trails of curls.

the twisted tongue
has it sorted out tonight
with a little help from my friends.
there’s only one tune
that would swoon
the dusk into dark.

it won’t be long
before these trained fingers
go to work
yet again, keeping the
soul sane and letting my eyes
smell the Californian rain.

and it’s same every night.

but wait, a slight change is
in the order of our light
tonight.

i just found a dime
in my pocket.

time and space.

is this the only way out?
he teared up and looked up above
i tried to hold back his memories
but they flew away along with his love

don’t worry about losing
i held his face in me and let him be
if it happens it happens
someday it will be you and me

all along this time and space
we will find him through night and day
even when we are six feet under
our love will stand brave, and
forever, stay.

one last light

i reach out to the stars
for the light to live on for a while
my fragments travel afar
spreading out west in 49 miles

i close my eyes some certain nights
and gaze at constellations I’ve made
with cluster of souls that fit just right
with mine, free and calmly laid

i walk up to each of them
and feel them growing in fire
when they cool down I pick up those gems
and move them above and higher

they glance to see how far they are
and thank the Lord about
the shine, the scars, their dimensions out far
I see them sailing out, and out

and now I crawl in my lonely sky
missing the light I found
all but one sang goodbyes
a spacial rose still hangs around

in this dusky sky of mine
amidst the dark of lights, their vain
i still have one star that flickers
the light that care still remains.

brave.

there’s only few things
better than

that song kissing your ears again
the freedom of singing it
out loud
in the middle of the bay
looking in everyone’s eyes
with a damn big smile.

then the bitter taste
of blue wind
hits your face
as the stars draw closer
to your heart than ever.
a strange, but sudden
urge of dreaming the stars
with eyes closed
reminiscing of the moments
that made up that song.
your song.
our song.

and giving up to
the heart, the city, and
yourself.

and taking in a deep breath.
in. out. in. in. breathe out.

look straight.
and keep walking.

just please keep walking.

Tennessee nights

tipsy hair, swaying
with the breeze

sound of her
smile, dancing
to the tease

faded denims, feet
in heaven

her, the stars
and old number 7.

How we do with our eyes closed

the familiar jazz
of lips, and hands
held tight. we sway
through this theme as
the stolen light
of this night.

falling apart like
sky, do not apologize
for change, you are
nature without
curtains.

in the face of naked
you hide your pieces
but your truth is
softer when we
winter.

like every line we
color, we can hear
each other’s song

and hold, the way
fingers grip a match
till it gasps into the dark
and they can hold the
flame

no long.

Sweater weather

the bluebonnets tells me
this is when i win
your smile can
make me fly.

sadly it’s nothing new
i’ve in past seen these views
it’s possible, you’ve just
got me high.

and your eyes
say more than our
names spelled together,
your breath’s warmer
than our bedroom sport we play
in sweater weather.

i love the way
you sing your song at night
your music and
your voice
are kisses from inside

I guess that’s what
I need, and
that’s what you
hide.

Lost in you

I got paid and I was on my way,
169 miles southwest of where I lived,
few stops, smokes with strangers,
no shotgun, just a guitar on front seat,
sooner or later I knew you’d come,
burn my heart with your setting sun,
deflower me with leaves from your cherry tree,
oh how good it feels to be free.

they said I couldn’t be with ya,
you said you’d let me down,
3 cigarettes to ash my fear away,
one white, one green and one brown,
let me whisper in your ear,
and tell you how far from perfect you are my dear,
who cares when our hearts already sinned,
there’s no point in holding it in.

This is art

Pick a song today.

From any era.

And listen to it.

When you do, you’re looking into a world as seen through the artist’s eyes.

This is essentially what art is.

A reproduction of the world around us.

A reproduction of our vision.

Of this world we live in.

And how WE see it.

All artists do it.

Musicians. Painters. Inventors. Everyone.

And while doing so, they create something that reflects the time they live in.

So pick a song today.

Close your eyes.

And live the art.