C Em
e-g-e-g-f-e-d-e
After you're gone,
Dm G G7 C
a-a-f-b-d-g-g-f-e-d-e
think of the girl who loved you for so long.
Though you love another,
please don't forget me, brother.
When you're at your worst,
think of the girl who loved you first.
She taught you to care for another
and please don't forget me, brother.
A Em A
Though I miss you all the time
And I wish you were nearer
Dm C (d-du) Em
What's in you is in me too, so
Em G G7 C
I can see your face in the mirror
Though we must part,
I'll keep you close to my heart.
You'll give your life to another,
but you will always, always be my brother.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
The artist
You're an artist.
Don't take leave
of your senses.
Leave your
sentence behind.
You are free.
You are flowing.
You're a fighter.
You take care
and take over.
Never hostile,
always gentle.
Bring them close
and close your eyes
to tell the story
of the death
and the hatred
and the wonder
of the womb
where you hide
where you sleep
slowly growing
'til the day
when the world
and all its people
wait no longer.
They long for words
about the bombs
and the bullets
and all the ways
you'll make it right
if you can find it
in your heart
in your mind
in your soul
to paint the picture
of the peace
that will mangle
every malice.
Then all who speak will say:
"There's a man
with a vision
and the will
to make it well.
He's a poet.
He's a preacher.
He's the answer.
He's an artist."
Don't take leave
of your senses.
Leave your
sentence behind.
You are free.
You are flowing.
You're a fighter.
You take care
and take over.
Never hostile,
always gentle.
Bring them close
and close your eyes
to tell the story
of the death
and the hatred
and the wonder
of the womb
where you hide
where you sleep
slowly growing
'til the day
when the world
and all its people
wait no longer.
They long for words
about the bombs
and the bullets
and all the ways
you'll make it right
if you can find it
in your heart
in your mind
in your soul
to paint the picture
of the peace
that will mangle
every malice.
Then all who speak will say:
"There's a man
with a vision
and the will
to make it well.
He's a poet.
He's a preacher.
He's the answer.
He's an artist."
Sunday, May 15, 2011
whiskey mouth
His words tore through me,
Sung in the key of fuck me dead.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords both blue and red.
I want your whiskey mouth,
Warm in these cold-sweat nights.
Use those charms you learned down south.
Throw me from your smokey highs.
His six strings held me,
Strung me up clear down to the bone.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords for me alone.
I want your whiskey mouth...
His music bound me,
Clung to my heart and burned my skin.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords that tell my sins.
Sung in the key of fuck me dead.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords both blue and red.
I want your whiskey mouth,
Warm in these cold-sweat nights.
Use those charms you learned down south.
Throw me from your smokey highs.
His six strings held me,
Strung me up clear down to the bone.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords for me alone.
I want your whiskey mouth...
His music bound me,
Clung to my heart and burned my skin.
Upstroke, downstroke,
Strumming chords that tell my sins.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
under your skin
Heart so fallow
Blood to swallow
Hold me with your teeth and taste
Bones no marrow
Filled with sorrow
Such a beauty. What a waste.
You wear a veil
of the blackest night
and beneath it
is where the darkness lives
and sadness digs
under your skin
Mouth so silent
Words too violent
Fill your lungs with air and sigh
Feet no movement
Hope too distant
Close your eyes. Prepare to die.
Blood to swallow
Hold me with your teeth and taste
Bones no marrow
Filled with sorrow
Such a beauty. What a waste.
You wear a veil
of the blackest night
and beneath it
is where the darkness lives
and sadness digs
under your skin
Mouth so silent
Words too violent
Fill your lungs with air and sigh
Feet no movement
Hope too distant
Close your eyes. Prepare to die.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
dream
You walk through the crowd,
almost passing me by.
You turn to me with wide eyes.
Do I know you?
What are you to me?
You kiss me like it's a question.
You kiss me like I'm the answer.
You tell me to stay and wait
and I say forever.
You walk back through the crowd
and they think they know you because they invented you
and next to you I look so small.
But you're not any one thing
and neither am I.
I'll wait for you in the balcony
for the end of the show,
and then you'll see you don't know me
but your soul knows mine
and that's what I am to you.
almost passing me by.
You turn to me with wide eyes.
Do I know you?
What are you to me?
You kiss me like it's a question.
You kiss me like I'm the answer.
You tell me to stay and wait
and I say forever.
You walk back through the crowd
and they think they know you because they invented you
and next to you I look so small.
But you're not any one thing
and neither am I.
I'll wait for you in the balcony
for the end of the show,
and then you'll see you don't know me
but your soul knows mine
and that's what I am to you.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
so long
So long grasslands.
So long badlands.
So long sweet respite from salty tears.
I'll call you all tomorrow
and a few miles down the road.
It's there that you can find me,
on the Santa Monica pier.
So long old home.
So long known roads.
So long stepping stool to things out of reach.
I'll write you all on Tuesday
when these spaces have been crossed.
At the end there you can find me
on the shores of Venice beach.
So long past life.
So long sad wife.
So long to the girl I've been 'til this day.
I'll see you all again some time
once this trip has come to a close.
And, then, there you can find me
on the mighty streets of LA.
I heard, "Oh come back, come back where you belong."
I said, "I'm sorry, Mama. I won't be home until I'm gone."
So long badlands.
So long sweet respite from salty tears.
I'll call you all tomorrow
and a few miles down the road.
It's there that you can find me,
on the Santa Monica pier.
So long old home.
So long known roads.
So long stepping stool to things out of reach.
I'll write you all on Tuesday
when these spaces have been crossed.
At the end there you can find me
on the shores of Venice beach.
So long past life.
So long sad wife.
So long to the girl I've been 'til this day.
I'll see you all again some time
once this trip has come to a close.
And, then, there you can find me
on the mighty streets of LA.
I heard, "Oh come back, come back where you belong."
I said, "I'm sorry, Mama. I won't be home until I'm gone."
Friday, February 4, 2011
With You
With you
distance is not separation
and letting go is not freedom.
With you
love is forever
even when it's no longer love.
With you
we are together
even when there's no one there.
I am bound to you.
I am bound by my misery.
I am bound by my memories.
I am bound by everything you could never give
and I can't get away
because I am bound to you.
I don't care about forgiveness.
I just want to forget.
distance is not separation
and letting go is not freedom.
With you
love is forever
even when it's no longer love.
With you
we are together
even when there's no one there.
I am bound to you.
I am bound by my misery.
I am bound by my memories.
I am bound by everything you could never give
and I can't get away
because I am bound to you.
I don't care about forgiveness.
I just want to forget.
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