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Throwing Stones 

I never really told ya how I felt
And still I don’t know why
It hurts to know you’re out there sleeping
under these same sad Denver skies

Though it’s only a dream, I held you in
walking in a world ya never knew
And thats why its so cold to wake up alone
within a dream, lost inside of you

Should of done that
Should of said this
keeping the truth a secret
stones I can’t throw, or forget, 

and now I know 
it only hurts forever

I never gave you my words 
or sang you, your song 
instead I let them burn 
like ash from a fire that’s gone 

now its so quite in this room of blue
blinds drawn to the things we lose 
that died a long time ago
within a dream, lost inside of you

Should of done that
Should of said this
keeping the truth a secret
stones I can’t throw, or forget

and now I know 
it only hurts forever

Love Dump

Soundtrack Coyotes by Jason Muraz

I always wanted to be in love.  But maybe I am one of those who can’t be loved.  I try to hard to be funny, to be passionate—-to be lovable.  But maybe I always choose the wrong person to love or maybe they picked me by mistake.  Everyone needs love, to feel special to another in a world that leaves us all too often feeling ordinary and small.  I think I’ve spent to much time alone, I scare myself with all these crazy love thoughts.  Maybe I’m crazy and that’s why love alludes me—-I scare sane people off?

Maybe I expect too much of love. Maybe all that crap in poems, songs and stories is just fantasy.  I need someone to share my fantasies.  Maybe love is pretending, as in pretending to be what another wants and desires? I guess that’s fair enough.  Okay then–how about a yard love sale.  A half off on all the miscellaneous dreams, wishes,  promises and prayers that nobody else wants anymore——or even cares to barter for.  

Okay then, I’ll share half my fantasies with you if you share half of yours with me.   And all the undesirable junk no one wants we can take to the love dump and set it afire watch it burn to ash.  

In The Depths

When I was a kid, I’d hop on my Stingray bike and ride it down to the city pool. I grew up in the Sacramento Valley where the summer temperatures could climb into the triple digits. 105, 108, Sometimes as high as 116. There would be a droning hum throughout  the suburbs of air conditioners struggling to keep the stucco track houses cool. The streets are vacant. No one dares walk barefoot on the scorching pavement. Occasionally I would hear a distant weed eater or lawn mower. Much of the yard work was done by Mexicans. All the Republicans wanted the Mexicans to be deported just as soon as they finished grooming their immaculate lawns. 

The only refuge for a kid like me was the city pool. Girls were screaming, boys had their water fights, kids would be doing flips and cannon balls off the high-board. All the commotion was unnerving to me. I’d dive in and swim to the deepest part of the pool and stay there for as long as I could hold my breath. Down there in the coolness, there was a tranquil silence, everything moved in slow motion. I’d sit at the bottom crossed legged Yoga style, looking like a red chlorine eyed Buddha. There’s a quietness there, a peaceful silence, like the deafening solitude found in the void of deep space, and there was a weightlessness like that felt while in the womb. With every birth the universe becomes renewed—-existence abhors a vacuum.

I’d burst through to the surface leaving my protective womb——body and soul colliding with the universe, I’m reborn into the madness—-Suddenly, inundated by the fracas of life with all its dissonance and chaos.  As I’d sink to the bottom, I’d become acutely aware of the sound of my heart beating in my ears.

I exist!

The Weather

I’d once thought I could tell her everything, anything—– and she’d be interested in me, she’d look me straight in the eye, She knew me, finding our common connection, a peak beneath the flesh

I don’t know to much about love, but I believe it does have something to do with being interested in the other person—-and that’s something that’s hard to fake

She use to make my coffee in the morning, and remind me to wear my jacket when it was cold out, and I suppose that’s a version of love, caring for someone is in the little things, something we don’t realize until we get old—– getting old is non negotiable—-kindness is a spiritual thing

At the kitchen table we struggle to feign interest In what the other has to say, we give up and settle on commenting about the days weather, enjoying the simplicity of sitting with someone, knowing the rhythm of their footsteps as they make their way down the hall, mesmerized by the sound of a familiar voice, it felt as if these days would stretch on forever—–nothing is forever, so cherish the moment, she once said

mourning and morning sound the same but are completely different things, they’re called Homophones

How can something once so fresh devolve into foggy memories, it’s like the morning fog as it fades away, late afternoons clouds wrap themselves around us. The sound of a distant fog horn breaks my heart

You can’t change the weather, yet people still want to know what it’s going to be

Pent Up Dream

There’s a few things I’ll never get over

Like those thousands of tomorrows that never came

The waiting, the wishing, searching and hoping for signs that I’m on the right track, am I getting somewhere, anywhere, or am I going in circles like a skipping record—-or am I moving full-steam-ahead towards an inevitable cliff?

There’s a belongingness in learning that we are all in a shared aloneness, and I once foolishly thought you knew me, I was wrong, my words were intended to be poetry, warm damp words whispered from my lips into your ear, tickling and sending shivers down your back, you said you always fell for the weird ones, poets, madmen, musicians, but I think I scared you away with my intensity, I so badly wanted to touch you, I accidentally called ya baby, suddenly your smile became a question mark, it left you bamboozled, you said you thought I put a hex on you

You came searching for pieces of yourself, lurking in the shadows between your light and my darkness—You too, felt the sadness in this world, and for a time, the sadness held us together, there was just you and I—and then all the rest of this nihilistic world against us

How many of our lost yesterdays gave birth to stillborn todays

And, how many todays do any of us have? who are you fated to spend your tomorrows with?

It’s a sin to squander once in a lifetime moments, but I did so, with you

Will this ache in my chest ever subside?

From some mystic place you conjured up your black magic

One part love and a hundred parts regret

I don’t believe in the concept of time

There’s only a greased and slippery “now”

I don’t try to hold on to things anymore, Because the Buddhist were right. The attachment to people and things is the root of all suffering, but I never could let go of you, I’ve choose to suffer

I mess things up, I say one thing and do the other

I’m a wandering contradiction, avoiding the lines on broken sidewalk cracks, tripping over forgotten promises, facing my inexcusable lies, living with all those pent up dreams of what might have been

I’m a victim of this relentless, aimless love

I’m Gonna Treat Ya Like You’re Not My Wife

If you were my lover

I’d hold ya tight

But you ain’t my lover

You’re just my wife 

If you were my lover

I’d make ya moan and scream

But you’re not my lover

Who gets naked in my dreams

If you were my lover

I wouldn’t holler you wouldn’t bitch

But you’re not my lover

You no longer scratch my itch

If you were my lover

I’d take ya home

But you’re not my lover

So I’m sleeping alone

I’m gonna take ya on a date

I’m gonna treat ya right

I’m gonna treat like a girlfriend

I’m gonna treat ya like you’re not my wife

If you were my lover

I’d give ya hugs and kisses

But I’m not your lover

You’re not my mistress

If you were my lover

You’d be my fantasy

But you’re not my lover

What ya get is what ya see

If you were my lover

I’d take you to bed

But I’m not my lover

That’s what you said

If you were my lover

I’d ask you to marry me

But you’r not my lover

You’re already my wife ya see

I’m gonna take ya on a date

I’m gonna treat ya right

I’m gonna treat like a girlfriend

I’m gonna treat ya like you’re not my wife

Prodigal Son

You grew up

I grew old

We couldn’t see eye to eye

So we headed down separate roads

Tried to teach you 

Like my father taught me

To be brave and honest 

And nobody’s fool

I guess we all

Gotta make our own mistakes

I’ve made my share

Had to learn the hard way

Wherever you’re headed

I wish you well

Give it all ya got

Give-em hell       

Father and son

Man to man

Know this for sure

I’ll welcome you home again

You and me

A lot the same

A bit hard headed

Always different from the rest

Think things over

Be strong, have faith

Do this and I know 

You’ll find your way

Doesn’t matter who’s right

Lets make amends

I’ll let my guitar do the talking

Cause worlds fade in the end

I want you to remember

When my days are all done

I was your father

And you my prodigal son

Father and son

Man to man

When this world lets you down

I’ll welcome you home again