Monday, February 11, 2013

Words, Trees, Wings and Wine

My words are the anchor in me
like the way roots work for a tree
this is my
reason why
I breathe

2/9/13

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

don't coat my silver heart in brine
and waste
don't still my beating wings
and change my fate
my eyes are glued to the moon
my hands are seeking you
just bathe my fragile heart in wine
and haste

E.A.

1/26/13

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Take me, my pale fellow
and lead me into the wood
my hands are seeking trees
my heart so misunderstood
Yet you're the one
who always showed me how
to be OK with being me
and what I've become now
Take me, my pale fellow
and sit with me in silence
there are no words within the trees
that actually make sense

2/11/13


::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::


Your chords you tried to tie me with
To bind me to my own wit
and leave me here in the shade
Your words you tried to lie and with
your tongue you wished it
but I will not now be played
So settle now the score my friend
and let us not sit here and pretend
there is no need for tying us in knots
So hear me now my not subtle friend
I need this here right now to end
I shall not be double crossed
Not again

1/26/13

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