Our Crossedwords

I predict our conversation
May turn out to be
Somewhat like a game
Of Scrabble:
No basis of it’s own,
Only building on itself,
And who knows what words
Will have been laid out
By the time
We’ve finished our turns?
Add up the scrambled pieces
Leftover at the end,
And we will find that
Someone lost,
And someone had to win.
Unproductive,
Just like always,
Next week we’ll play again.

.

The Development and Birth of an Unwanted Thought

If I had a contraceptive

To protect against

Unborn ideas in my mind,

Or some abortive option

For the third-term thoughts

And feelings

Fertilized by your words,

Those are pills I would add

To my daily regimen.

But short of lobotomy

Or cardio-biopsy,

Unfortunately no options

Remain, and I

Am forced to nurture

To full gestation, then tear

And bleed to deliver

This bitter brainchild.


.

I recorded another song. Listen here.

JUST THE FACTS, SIMPLY STATED

I've been forgetting to pray
Lately I guess there's not much left to say.
I'm not feeling so well,
Though no one seems to be able to tell.

Oh my God, I can't pretend anymore
That I'm ok with this
I used to live
But these days I just survive.

Not all the symptoms are plain,
Just like the scars don't measure up to the pain.
These aren't very nice dreams
I can't find relief, awake or asleep.

I'll paint a sign: I need a rough and low voice
To sing to me
A lullaby,
Slightly off-key, and tired.

They say I'm too good at this game,
Like telling the truth would change anything.
Besides, I'm too tired to explain,
And I'm afraid of what my voice might betray.

Don't touch that dial; leave the radio on
So I don't feel
So alone,
Just let me hear one more song.

Most days the cost is too high,
And leaving my room is just not worth the price.
I'm losing my concept of time,
Though it's been so long, I think I'm almost resigned.

.