Until You Let Go

I walk the hunted path
with familiar steps ahead
maybe by morning
I’ll have seen the street
but I’ll never know

I run only when needed
and this makes you laugh
and somehow,
somehow
you make me wonder
but I’ll never know
and that’s alright

because you came to me
you came to me
needing nothing
seeing everything
being everything
you won’t know how
and you won’t know
how you fall
until you let go

I think maybe you’ll hurt
before you come back
but you know you can trust
and so you’ll come back
and that’s alright

because you came to me
you came to me
needing nothing
seeing everything
being everything
you won’t know how
and you won’t know
how you fall
until you let go
and that’s alright
trust me
let go

      

       

Copyright L.M. 2008.  (written March 1st, 2008.).

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Slate Grays

my hands are dry and rough from working
my eyes are small and used to squinting
my stature average, verging on petite
I have thin skin and veiny feet
my complexion’s poor, my tone is pale
genes say my bones will be quite frail
I have no nails as they are weak
my voice is too high when I speak
my mother thinks my hair’s too long
I think all compliments are wrong
I’m a sceptic, sometimes too much so
though I try to be fair to friend and foe
my opinions strong, my manner shy
in public you’ll never see me cry
in private I keep emotions tame
my anxiety has that cause to blame
I hate to shop, but buy a lot
no place could ever be too hot
I dislike snow, I dislike cold
I’m terrified of getting old
I have good friends who understand
I’m always later than I plan
I’m sensitive, and feel more pain
than I let off, or care to explain
I never intentionally drink alcohol
and for this, flunk social protocol
I dislike freckles, and have a bunch
I bend, I slouch, I slump, I hunch
I get depressed but never treat
I just stay up late and never eat
somehow, I’ve seemed to manage this wreck
to keep my addictive tendency in check
though these faults I easily admit
I’d like to think there’s some good to it
I’ll never regret the time departed
for when I love, I love whole-hearted

    

      

Copyright L.M. 2008.

Day 10

😯

  I didn’t go on the beach today.  I know!  Very sad.  However, in my defense, it was pretty cool here today.  As in, 10 degrees Celsius, and *very* windy.  People here were wearing touques, no word of a lie.  We were watching, amused, as a construction worker who was in charge of guiding traffic was trying to arrange his touque under his hardhat.  We had a good few minutes waiting to watch the hilarity.  It really was quite chilly though, especially considering two days before, I was getting a sunburn.

  In the morning, I went for a brunch crêpe at Julio’s, and chatted with him for a bit.  You Are Always On My Mind, sung by Elvis was playing, and Julio sang a little as he prepared.  So entertaining 🙂 The crêpe was delicious of course……

  We went shopping today and I bought a few little things.  After, we went to Crabby Bill’s for my second crabs’ legs meal, and it was even better than the first….. actually quite a bit better.  The original location is still my fave.  On the drive back we saw quite a few of the rich rich people’s houses/mansions with their backyards on the beach facing the water…… it’s rumoured Tom Cruise had a home in that area, so we always joke about going to see if he’s still got his Christmas lights up.

  Somehow those seemingly few activities took up our entire day.  Tonight we might be off to play some pool, but we’ll see.  I have to get working on my applications so we might be tied up doing that instead.  Anyway, have a good night folks!

Ascent

far below me lies
a river too deep to swim
it snakes all around me
and beckons me in
I reach for the branches
but, snapping, they fall too
and suddenly I realize
that I’m flying for you

the rapids, they squeeze me
and siphon my strength
the bitter chill of the water
testing my faith
somehow the branches
they keep me from death
and give me a chance at
a new kind of breath

Copyright L.M. 2007.  (written in West Virginia on way to Florida.).

Stalemate

I have a sight
I thought somewhere near
takes me a while to
to…..
well I should have lost it
perhaps
maybe
somehow
did
inside it burns
and I shiver
you know it’s cold
so very cold

I’m not hopeless
just delusional
apparently
and to make up
for all the lost time
somehow started
to believe in fairytales
masochistic? probably
I’ve heard it heals
or bides time
with other distraction
sort of like me
I guess that’s ironic
but really, not hopeless
that’s part problem
you see why
it’s the hope that kills
if I were numb
oh to be numb
I would lose fear
I would lose pain
I would lose anger
I would lose love
well, you’ve taught me
you can’t win them all
in my year of luck
my precious months
a troubled match
a frightened soul
helped onto my plate
peppered with perfection
here and there
and when that bell begins
I will be a mistake
and another chapter
in a drama
whose clout extends
far beyond
the amusing present time

I’m sleepless
and you know why
and you won’t tell me

I’m walking the lines
with chains around my neck
ball bearings in my throat
and hands behind my back
and I say “I’m starved”
and you say you’re tired
but give me food
that I can’t eat, smell, see
and say it ought to be enough
but death takes its toll
bending all rules
portraying life as such
well you feel remorse
but upon the next
bestow a fresh nothing
ready to be devoured
and kill another
just like before me
me
and after me

I’m still sleepless
could you tell me why?

I did have a dream though
yes I had to wake you up
you transformed
into the jerk
and I couldn’t get you to leave
I awoke frightened
with the door open

do you realize
character and honesty
can both be judged
by ignoring words altogether
and looking
solely
on what you do

so in this pretend world
this fantasy of yours
some things bleed
into mine
and I try to see
subtract the you
subtract the me
to look right through
to reality
but look at me
I play the fool
I’m just the tool
to set you free
of memory
of any need
of honesty
responsibility
respectability
honour, value
worth, and truth
you see, all these
I could be for you
but that fantasy
well it bleeds too
into one which you
have saved for me
I still can’t sleep
and I blame you

Copyright L.M. 2007.

Station

I couldn’t stretch it
it began furtively
the weasel of a creature
stitching disaster with a golden flare
dancing brushstrokes in the air
stepping lightly
flooding slow
a prick to welcome
boring deep within
each layer, each flaking level
it could be cruel
but I’m sure this isn’t new
I know the tracks
and paint the country with pleasure
still be the train, upon them all
useless and crumbling
but ever so mighty
bending light with each day
crowding this heaven-sent boundary
to a cradle beneath
somehow immersed in everything
so carbon me
make me realistic
drawn and painted and sung
compose me your morals
stand with posture perfect
gripping ledges
haphazard leaping
and suddenly —
you see it too

so change it all, and harbour no chain
abandon weight, for I can help you fly

   

      

Finished: 8:28 a.m., Wednesday, December 5th, 2007.

Open Mic Night

a night of hills
rounding o’er the surprises
at the almost intangible
we crashed
but would you look now
the sky separated
no more lenses
and look how it shines

sparkled eyes sending
flashes of truth and water
yet you stay
what a day
at the razor edge, slipped
but somehow fell up

how could you doubt
every same word
every same thought
every same hope
that I should see them too
presents your proof

I wanted to see through
the piercing eyes
the flicker I suspected
was maybe for show
mischief like a contact lay
across your iris, scratching thin
just enough to let you know
the trouble you were getting in

yes, I say so honestly
whether or not I should
but this eve you’ve proven
after everything, it’s still good

so all those hills we scrambled over
skating ice and slipping tripping
end up scorching the fruits
and giving something we can put to use

no more lenses, show the truth
look how you shine
and we will be fine
just show me all this hidden you

    

     

Finished: 6:03 a.m., Saturday, December 1st, 2007.

Piña blüada

If you eat blueberries with pineapple, it tastes like piña colada.  Somehow the blueberries end up adding the coconut flavour?!

   

On second thought, maybe I’m just weird…..

     

No no — it really does taste piña colada-y!

   

Hmm, maybe I should turn my internal dialogue filter back on…..

Hanging On (2005)

I cannot say I’m pleased
repetition is, however, foreseeable
and I did not foresee
a failure on my part for feeling
the rudimentary error of my species
a mistake Mother Nature corrected with the others
and hoping
a moronic faux-pas in this century
if I collapse, you’ll understand
for I’ve forgotten what is new
and I’ll remember the old
all over again so it is once more fresh and disturbed

tiny speckled thoughts of random
tear me away into bliss
but sharp jabs in my side remind me
such cringing should be my guest
it heralds not impossibility
and speaks with the ancient eyes
so why do I feel so lost and helpless
when my stage continues to grow
and my crowd fights it out amongst themselves
this mantle is silent but near implosion
with albums of fear and hatred and ignorance
weighing down on the chance for sustainment
but bricks are strong
and though the weight is mighty
it keeps me afloat somehow
my worries only feelings
those rancid add-ons to our faulty line

Copyright L.M. 2007.