Saturday, October 4, 2008

oh, mr. moon

i bet you didn't know that if
you squint your eyes at the night sky
you can catch the moon singin' his lament
an old hat tipped low over one eye
he's lost his lady love, they say
she was too much for him to handle
she left him for a brighter star
so out he went, just like a candle
his light doesn't shine no more.
so now he sings the blues at night,
in smoky bars that reek of gin
and now he's just a daytime ghost
consumed with all that could've been.

but i bet that he could tell a tale
a story like you've never heard
from his high perch among the stars
he sees it all, knows every word.
he sees the boy eating worms on a dare
he sees his mother yell and scold him,
he sees the old woman lay her husband down
wanting so desperately just to hold him.
oh, moon, come down from that lonely bar,
come down and sing me off to dreams,
where moons can fall in love with stars
and nothing is quite what it seems.

everything i've got

everything i've got's unfinished
my hair color's always changing.
edge of twenty, hurricane
like autumn, rearranging.

one thing that i haven't got,
that i can't claim as mine:
it's true, my feet have got sole, but
it isn't the right kind.

but if i'm no ginger rogers
then you're no fred astaire -
we'll do the waltz or laugh trying,
and make up for skill with flair.

all i've got is little words
to take me faster, higher
all it takes: two syllables,
the spark that starts the fire.

i know i'm yet in progress -
still tangled up, still taking shape
so in this chaos, i take my pen
and, on paperback, make my escape.