Categories
Poetry

Too Blue for Red

March 2018.

Too Blue for Red

All I can hear is my own shallow breath and

I can’t turn the page

I’m in the same place and

I despise my own age

I’ve felt nauseous for months

My world remains gray

I think about heaven but

I refuse to pray

The music stopped helping

and the colors, they fade

What a waste of time

were those things that I made

The world drones on

in its peculiar motion

I need someone, fast

Some toxic love potion

Please, will you slow down for me,

I promise I’ll focus

The problem, I think,

Is that my thoughts seem to choke us

I’ve done it to myself,

I love the blues too often,

But with them and the cigarettes,

My body starts to soften

I’m imprisoned inside

every second, I think;

I don’t want to talk with you,

I just want to drink

One day I’m living,

the next I’m in bed,

all too blue for yellow,

and too blue for red

I can see some sort of life

far away from my own,

but I can’t seem to get there,

so just hand me the phone and I’ll

dress myself in purple

or maybe in black

and I’ll try to create

but I’ll only come back

to this hard downy bed

and sing to nightmares,

then cry to some god,

a reject, a spare.

Did I ask you for something?

O how selfish of me;

here, take parts of my body,

wipe your blood on my sleeves.

My hands have been cold

for seventeen years

and I don’t see any good in

warming them here

If you did touch my skin

I guess I didn’t feel it,

Forgive me, forgive me,

try again, I’ll be real, it

seems like some joke,

playing off like your friend,

I can feel us in your bed

again and again

You pig, you dog,

you beautiful god,

I hate you so much

and I hate that I’m flawed

I broke my guitar

and I wish April were dead,

and until then I’ll be

comfortably trapped in my bed,

I’m too blue for red,

I’m too blue for red.

Categories
Poetry

Roses and Scarlet Begonias: A Song

May 2018.

Roses and Scarlet Begonias

So, man, here I am

Left cold and lonely and blue

You took the fast track to texas, baby

So I painted a picture of you.

Your roses and scarlet begonias, honey

Look an awful lot like blood,

But thank god it’s raining today, look

they’re drowning in the mud.

Driving down the highway, babe

I pass a man; he looks like you.

So I stop, pull over, call to him, well,

What else would you expect me to do?

Because I see him, he’s a man, I know,

A man that would understand.

I look into his coffee-stained eyes and say,

Wanna come see me and the band?

With his caramel skin, he jumped right in,

And we laughed, and beautifully sinned.

Categories
Poetry

Poem: She Freezes Quietly

“Slow Blues” – The Jimi Hendrix Experience

February 2018.

She Freezes Quietly

I don’t think there is any love left for me here

Time unwinds slowly and tenderly

in the gray blue winter

and I can only stare as so calmly

the sun is dying, I can feel her, she freezes quietly