Oceana's Lyric

seldom you’d be honest enough to say you don’t forgive me

for the mistakes 

or misery i have brought with me

seldom i’d forgive myself for them

but it would be epic

it would resolve so much

seldom i am honest that i could be godless

that the bottom of my earth is caught in unwelcoming winds

meant to send me to the sea that does not welcome me

seldom i could say this

in the sad lonely good morning to you 

your presence should be enough to prove your worth

your smile enough to sustain your importance

your happiness should be your highest priority

(it should be mine)

climb....

your beauty should be enough to light a room

your empathy.... enough for revolutions

for evolution to stand still and say this is the moment i move along

rage...

catalyst this... create a catastrophe a catharsis a moment where all else can stop and you can rest in the prefect knowledge of Love and what you mean to it

your absence is evident today

i admit

today i am sad

there are no riddles on my face to deny it

or deny the absorption of real feelings i deny because people keep wanting me to hide them

your absence is evident today

i admit

today i am sad

.... i am dreaming this dream at thriteen i can’t get back to and i have this beautiful girl who is thirteen and i want to live inside of that dream and see what realities i can make of it, but i can’t get back to my dream at thirteen to connect this thread we have so little time with and i want you to want to help me....

your absence is evident today

i admit

i have made myself so sad about it

and i cry through my poems today 

and i admit 

every song ends so quickly when i cry

when i am saddened by your adsence

which is so evident today

 first signs of life were limited by the unremarkable destination of fear

by the unrealistic hope of growth

by the triviality of what tomorrow might bring

first signs of life were like whispers (behind your back)

were full of beliefs 

were filled in to believe

first signs of life brought the weary and the afraid

panic at the monster we could create

panic at the thing coming out of the crate

-and then the catapult

-and then the cataclysm

-and then the fight

we’ve got....      supernatural tendencies....

spilled wine on the floor....     some dreams....   we can’t afford...

all the way....

we’ve got.... influential theology....

blood from the heart....

some words....    we can’t afford....

to say....

                                                         dramamine....   cereal queens....

                                                         i miss you....      again.....

                                                         on the door....

we’ve got....    pessimistic philosophies....

rage against the machine....

some pain....   we can’t afford....to give away....

                                                           when i got into town....

                                                            you were nowhere around....

                                                                now i’m....  quite sure....

                                                                    i could drown....

i’ve been through so much

but i’m looking up

never mind all the stuff in the way

i’m looking up

but the man on the radio said i don’t stand a chance

i told him... i’m looking up

your beautiful eyes

when i’m looking at you 

the way your smile lights a room

when i’m looking at you

but the man on the television said i don’t stand a chance

i told him...  i’m looking up

and we bleed through the years

mostly counting our fears

how i’ve bled through the years

always counting the tears and fears of all these years

because the man in the audience said i don’t stand a chance

with you

so i told him... you better start looking up

you better start looking up

because in a bind you would want me i could be your best friend despite my indifference my insistence you should never have caused harm

because in a panic you would want damage controlled and a friend who can clean up tough messes without explanations or deep investigations to places we should soon forget

because its time i told you the story how in the body we were written red

why i won’t bend but bleed instead

why i tend to solve the problem

and hide the remains

most of the pages now

are missing- i have moved too much for any ordinary thing

to remain with me

it’s extraordinary you would stay

i have written poems better than this

i have reduced them to mere memories

that will eventually escape me

escape you 

and miss the point completely

i have doused ginsberg in gasoline

howled it too soon

to be used in any social engagement

i have buried words with my sins

or else in shreds

because the second stanza 

was better read sultry than sad

but i am sad 

and want to stay that way

most of the pages are missing

i have moved too much for any ordinary thing

to remain with me

i feel so extraordinary

when you stay

“words, words, words, 

have you heard, a bird in hand is much better than

any number free to wander”

-dave matthews-

... you’re just sitting alone on some loose change, hidden in a lonely corner

-grey shirt and blue jeans-  

huddled over the table looking over a letter left unsent in a bound journal

the rest of the pages are blank

you’re pressed up against a pitch black window

you’re zoning...

     And then I wanted to call you, just to hear something that actually makes sense, just to know you can still tell the difference between thick and thin- how you always know how to begin again.  You shrug your shoulders with such ease, even in the midst of infinite insecurities, infinite mysteries.

     And then I wanted to kiss you, I miss you in so many ways- I scream it seriously deliriously. I stand on both hands until I can force the issue.

the distance between the earth and the heavens 

has always been

let’s just get in the car and drive

this addiction

this total oblvion

the soft touch

of your strawberry wine red lips

... I sip the coffee. I try not to lose the hum of a butterfly breath.

I try to hold on to what’s left

i like the way you hold the light

radiant  angelic  innocently

its comparable to?- oh, i don’t know

and does it really matter any longer?

my friend informs me

“it’s the heart that matters more”

and i believe him

and i think i’m trying

(and tides of complex thoughts)

waves rolling in and out of ways

to enlighten myself

to say what was past

has passed

and attempt to avoid any demons

left undaunted 

... you see, i thought i was this butterfly

                                                                 flutter by-

        i was merely in a cocoon....

i like the way you hold the light

i make little soulful promises in the dark

i am drunk in dreams 

they keep reminding me

there were lavender daisies that stayed days upon days

they stood a rare poignant grace

for anything in our age 

the last remaining hours of their vibrant lives

felt like an epic tragedy occurred 

they had breathed  stretched  the rhythm they danced in

was all their own

and sometimes...

i get caught in your gaze and cannot find you

i lose myself in the iris of your eye

and i cannot feel what you feel

or what i feel

or if ive merely dreamed away

another ideal moment

ive come to define as :

i miss you/i love you in a cosmic harmony reminds me....

i stir the sugar in the coffee-

sneak a cool smoke in the rain pit-pat

of every sidewalk after thought

shrug       exhale     its 9 a.m. 

you are still sleeping