More Old Stuff

Blues go so well

The smoke unfurls from a cigarette
Like mist rising off the grass
A perfect companion to coffee
Like blue eyes and a subtle tan

Unattainable, I think, as we exchange glances in the same mirror
She comes and speaks to me
Dressed down in shorts and an old top
Like she doesn’t even need to try to shine in my eyes

My eyes focused on hers, hers in mine
Blues go so well together, I think silently
“Smile,” she says, “You’re always smiling.”
This one I have right now belongs to her

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, fumbling with her keys.
“I’m thinking it may be a nice day for a walk.”
Hesitating, I missed my window
Tonight, this oh-so-clear night, I will not be let inside

March, 2005

Let me sleep in

Sprinkle my dreams with your smile
And let me sleep in

Kiss me on my head, whisper my name
That way let all of my days begin

Arguments make us say things we don’t mean
But unfortunately cannot take back

Let the understanding of mutual trust and love
Be what get always back on track

Let me fly away encouraging you to join
Refuse my request

Let us eventually find our love like the kisses we once stole
Or memories in a picture, forget we lest

But for now just sprinkle my dreams with your smile
I beg you to let me sleep in.

July, 2005

Jealousy

I’m jealous of the cars traveling west as I drive away from you;
If not for any other reason than they’re closer to you than I am.

July, 2005

So this is California (4:32 on a Wednesday)

Wind gushed through the window
As I sped down the freeway 5
Shoes removed made me irritated
At the sand on my floorboard

Palm trees raced behind me
And the sun consciously
Kept his distance like a
Jabbing pugilist

So this is California
4:32 on a Wednesday afternoon
The dolphins stay closer to shore
In the temperate Pacific sun

Waves crash into the shore
As if they’re mad at the grains of sand
Pelicans swoop for a closer look
Contemplating theft of the fisherman’s bounty

The desert sands blow fiery over
The crabgrass and the cacti
The fires scorched this land just
One or two summers ago.

November, 2004

Old Country Wife

The old country road told
Stories of a lonely house
Scarcely visited by friends
Or shade from the sun

A wife once cooked there
Looking west at the vulgar mountains
Maliciously laughing at her from afar
Taunting ruthlessly of missed adventure

Her days ticked by washing clean dishes
Waiting for someone she didn’t know
To come plowing down that country road
To tell her someone cares.

November, 2006