Instinctive feelings

worry is such a joyless game
but what if god's an empty phrase
who will watch the boiling pot
to keep us floating to the top?

Reclaiming what is rightfully ours

there used to be such daring tunes
pulling strings tied round our limbs
but those same beats won't move our feet
til reconstructed, we begin

to cast about where demons live
our old companions pride and sin
say our peace and let them leave
unhinge the doors that keep them in

somewhere someone's plucking strings
and keeping pace on tambourines
we'll send our song to join the band
of stolen voices whispering

we'll find the ones who carry on
and keep the battle raging on
til we've killed the madness
that turned the world so gladless
don't leave me yet, hang on.

With Love, A Late Admirer

his voice was smoke that passion stoked
from some breathless burning place
that few are doomed to know
doomed and blessed
to go

he made his spirit into songs that turned the room to hazy clouds
and stunned us into awe

but all the loving
and the longing
had made his heart too heavy
and pulled him toward the ocean with its somber melody
he simply sank

cause when you love from the depths of all the sorrow in your soul
it's never over
til it's over
and all the water washes over
til it makes him so cold

Absorbed.

i want to feather all my bedroom walls
and fall into a trance
where sweeping tides consume my mind
and nothing goes as planned

I want the floor to hear our roar
and send it back all soft and warm
or swim through seas of melodies
in search of some undiscovered shore

while we stand still like statues
I'll whisper gently,
breathe your music into me
pour your soul right into me

so I can touch your meaning

and keep it in my memory

to carry on those lonesome roads ahead

you'll stay feathers in my bed

Peer pressure.

have you killed the singsong
or did my ears decline the chance
to swallow toxic sugarplums
while casting bitter eyes askance?

Go home, the search has been called off

you could have brought me rainbows
and I might have carried on
embracing manufactured glee
that fills my mouth with softer songs

but I prefer the poster art

in music halls that whirl and pop
to glossy bursts of noisy words
that paper garish hobbyshops

does the world still need survivors
if we've given up the cause
where does discontentment go
when its vessel turns up lost

and why must reason need a cause?

Rain on My Parade

I thought we'd find it charming
to sail the silver clouds
but then you stole my rainstorm
so I turned the ship around.

Damn Peskies

why yes I'd be delighted!
only I've not the nerve to ask
where you keep the jelly beans
and would you care to dance?

Swing me softly, cotton tree
Set me gently on your knee
Twirl me toward the dusty floor
'Til the peskies spin no more

friend, I've not the courage
to liberate my arms and feet
so kiss me like we're dying fast
and pull the strings controlling me

Dance me faster, til we fall
Like peeling sunshine off the wall
Tangle me in whispered lust
Drown the peskies if you must