I may never be....

I may never be good enough.
Wise enough,Famous enough.
Rich enough. Free enough.
Spontaneous enough.
I may never be right for this world
that I stare into.
Sad hard reality.

When the doors open before me
I tremble and pray
That you might notice me
In the most subtle of ways
When the floor shifts beneath me
I wish you could see when
I Walk into a room
But I'll never be
That magical person for you
Just go along and make you see
Is there something special that breathes in me.

I'll never be the magic that is right for you
There is no more magic
It is dead and gone.
I lost it in its most vulnerable state
I gave it all away.
I let it slip between the cracks.
I keep up a good facade, I suppose.
But its just a facade.
The wind blows.
Takes it all down.
The stone and foundation
Has crumbled
Sadly below.

TINSEL TOWN

I think you know where it all went down
Way upon the banks of that Tinsel Town
The fight that ensued came to insist
And their rebellion could not resist
They boiled over like demons in coffee brew
But the battle was the most natural thing
anyone went through

Four scores and Several seas
We couldn't possibly know what that could mean
But the fighting pilots flew their childhood dreams
Made their families proud while they traversed the skies

They strapped into suits made of expensive fibers
A hole cut in the crotch with a hose attached
Every man needs to drain his tank
Even when engaged high in a dog fight

A dog fight is a man's battle
Only one comes out, the other below
Be piss stains on their pants
They are thankful for the plastic tube
And the absence of their wives
Thankful their time was spared
Continue with the end of their lives

They remember the banks of the Tinsel Town
And they retire to their twilight rooms
As the tinsel tears and frays
Never speaking of what they lived through

PIRANHAS ARE NEAR

How can I be happy when my joy is away
Long periods of time.
I wait....I'm always waiting
For the tornado to arrive
I occupy my space and mind with
Mounds of work and busy time
Running myself into the ground
Silently, a reclusive
Like a widow knitting her web

Quietly I keep to myself
Confide in my canine companion
She is my familiar half
Our silent understanding brings comfort

I miss the sound of his voice
The steps of his shoes
Entering across the hardwood
The faint scent of smoke
Lingering on the porch
Low forgotten radio tunes
That drown out the static

We grow closer through the years
Though the piranhas are always near
They keep a watchful eye
on the hearts we hold dear

BUTTS

I like to eat the butts of bread, and the butts of men.

"Truth is Stranger than Fiction."

Today pieces fall into place.
Mysteries begin to make sense.
The fables that I thought were pieces of clouded half-truths
are in fact true to life facts.
I guess I will never doubt what I hear from those lips again.

As incredulous as the story may seem,
it is in fact very real.
It is a myriad of images and pieces thrown together in boxes within boxes wrapped in velvet and cotton. And one day, you
open it and find the answers to what you always wanted to know.

So the saying goes "Truth is Stranger than Fiction."

Rejection Letters.

Rejection letters are the toilet papered testament to an artist's existence. Pull another square. flush. repeat.

WOODBURY

Somewhere near Woodbury
A devil calls his home
South of Lakes and Rivers
His hell is just his own

I gave my heart to a digger
And man he buried it so deep
As it fell into that pit beneath us
My Private loss made me weep

Went up to that road called Woodbury
Where the devil digs those shallow graves
Would he kindly fork out to me
An old soul that still remains

He only grinned and looked at me
He called me out by name
He said "don't cry for that heart you lost"
"You have only yourself to blame."

Wipe clean this tear stained face
Cry not for your human ways
Cannot repent or correct the road
The reaper has got to pave

I've accepted the truth of my fate
For I've lost what's right and good
The longer you stay on Woodbury
The more you bury Wood.

ARMY OF ME

There's nothing worth following
And there's nothing to lead
Guess the only army left
Is the army called "Me."

It's lonely.
But easier in some regards.
When the going gets tough
The tough get hard

Its best I be on my own
And alone on my way
To that valley below
There's no place to stay

No place to go
No one to lead
Just me and myself
And this Army of Me.

MARDI GRAS

I am a chauffeur for you
Nothing more and nothing less
I'll continue to bleed for you
You know its what I do best

I have a lot of blood to give
You'll take till the last drop remains
Dulled by knives and stab wounds
Somehow they stifle the pain

I am a chauffeur for you
An archaic chamber maid
Belonging not to this world at hand
Paper masks will cover the shame

I am a clown to entertain you
A vessel of jokes and games
Wigs and powder, crimson lips
Still water removes the blame

WHERE YOU'VE DROWNED

Go on and disappear if you need to
I may not be around to look where you've drowned
That pace I keep to keep this face
And all those secrets I've found

Disappear to another moment if you have to
The stress lets me melt off the pounds
Keeping time alone, alone and waiting
To this beaconing I'm tethered and bound

Go on and Climb a mountain if you have to
You're up so high while I'm on the ground
The rocks crumble beneath, down below you
Planting your flag makes you proud

Disappear into that lake if you want to
Tell me about that shiny ring you caught and found
I've disappeared before into that same lake
And no one could pull me back when I drowned