Thunderstorms

Palms up. An offering. An appeasing. And the man died alone. Fists up. A quarrel. And the man died alone. Head back. A chuckle. And the man died alone. "I see my breath." "You lack the capabilities to see." And they both died alone.

- Morgan B. M.

Count of Monte Cristo

Oh god
Save me
Propped against the wall
I will not beg
I will not scream
You don’t own me.
Please don’t make me
Not again
God the fire and the spring
Tension holds until release
Save me.
Like so much rot
And fruit
And sweat
I’ll give whatever
I have left.
The clicks and whirs
Of a technologic age
Still play with masters
And their slaves.
So lock me down
Till there are chains
For if I’m held
Then there’s a key.
And so unbound
I may step free
And wish to beg
And wish to scream
Oh god
Save me.

Bleh

Let be honest shall we?
I know
It’s been a long time
But I think we can
This time.
Who knows where we are
And fewer know
It doesn’t matter.
I’ve lost more life
Than I knew I had.
Perhaps a rebirth
More likely death
But this “tragedy”
Brings to light a surety
I thought I knew
Now I know
Of all the things I’ve wished for
I wish no more
For your love.
Your love for me
Has never
Been doubted
Less.

The Harp

There are scars on the floorboards
And the sun in my eyes
Blocks my view, of the source
Of the mood.
The strings resonate and pull me inside
As always, my mind wanders to you
Revelate, Retract, Revelation!
I’ve had many
As such hearts do.
But as the applause sounds
I come to another
You may love her more, and she you
But sure as shit and taxes, I love you better

"Whatever It Is"

Most every day goes by according to design
I live this dream and still it seems I have you on my mind

I can't see the future
But I know it's coming fast
It's not that hard to wind up knee-deep in the past
There come alot of Mondays
Since that phone booth that first night
Tears and miles and years and smiles
I wanna get it right.

These days I get up about the time I used to go to bed
Living large was once the deal
Now I watch the stars instead
They're timeless and predictable
Unlike most things that I do
I tell the wind and my old friend
I'm headed home to you.

From the bottom of my heart
Off the coast of Carolina
After one or two false starts
I believe we found our stride
And the walls that won't come down
We can decorate or climb
Or find some way to get around
Cause I'm still on your side
From the bottom of my heart.

- Coast of Carolina, Jimmy Buffett