Monday, April 19, 2004

A Little Ditty

When I think I’m on the inside looking out
And then I find I’m on the outside looking in
Then the friendship that we’re founding
Is by other measures floundering
It isn’t really a relationship within

When the time I’ve spent since seeing you
exceeds the time that you’ve spent
being you
Then something’s altogether wrong
There’s no music in this song
And I fear I fear I fear that we are through

When the notions that you proffered up for future melodies
Are left in Future’s pocket, not brought out for Now to see
then I think that you’ve exceeded
the notions you had seeded
Overstepped your own unknown of what might be

When the living that you’re living you don’t choose to share with me
And the living that I’m living is of you quite free
then what’s the point of wondering
what roads we each are wandering
I need the people in my life more present - don’t you see?

When I wake up in the morning and the birds don’t sing
when the man I met last night wasn’t just a sordid fling
well I
didn’t take the offer
That that muscled hottie proffered
He wasn’t you - I didn’t want what dawn would bring

But the telephone’s not ringing and the mailman’s come
And there isn’t any letter in my inbox or my home
I suspect that you’ve gone on
With lives and loves you’d once begun
In terms of love, not all roads lead to Rome

I thought I was on the inside looking out
But now I feel I’m on the outside looking in
Can you tell me that my thinking
Is just faulty synapse linking

And that what we might yet be is not ‘has been’?


Know Thyself

My heart stirs in its slumber
in its hibernation
in its incremental dying
encountered you --
It wasn’t just a “meeting”!
‘twas too dynamic, too vital
too full of promise to simply say
“we met”

Hook, line & sinker
I took the words you wrote
and created you
in their image
Visions filled with promise
I raise my glass in toast

This is why I do not gamble
- the boats don’t count my dollars!
I was willing to bet on you
roll the dice
spin the wheel

Now here we are
Becoming… except
further strangers

than when we met.


The conductor raised his baton
instruments to lips
all eyes on him
a sharp intake of
and then….

Simply nothing!
Symphonies poised to flow in
unheard harmonies
and not a note was

All that potential
all those dreamed of melodies
sit out there
in some unattainable limbo
aching with promise
but no voice

You didn’t even let me
love you
long enough

to get a good poem out of it
~~ 04/19/2004