all the kids have cameras

i've got to catch up.
all the kids have cameras,
or they have ideas
they pour easily on paper.
they're all so good
at making something out of nothing,
and it makes me feel small
when i can't think at all.

they wear time on their hands,
i wear time on my face.
it's not a fashion statement,
it's a war for attention,
and many soldiers of art
are shot dead everyday.
they just close their eyes,
with dreams unrealized.

and i don't want to be
a forgotten corpse.
please try to remember
that i made something for you,
when i felt urgency knocking
at my back door,
and the words were there
like they'd never been before.

my new rules for writing/living

assume nothing.
Murphy is right.
never go against your gut.
everyone is potentially under opposition control.
don't look back, you are never completely alone.
go with the flow.
use the terrain.
establish a distinctive and dynamic profile and pattern.
stay consistent over time.
let them believe they lost you.
act innocent.
lull them into a sense of complacency.
there is no limit to a human beings ability to rationalize the truth.
once is an accident.
twice is a coincidence.
three times is an enemy action.
use misdirection, illusion and deception.

####

the commandments of espionage!

as told by
antonio mendez,
ex cia operative,
chief of disguises,
in the "little grey man" episode of
"errol morris: first person"

trap

i think that there should be no names,
'cause names make this far too real.
just let me remove my face
and float above the city streets.

i keep falling for the same old trap,
the lock rings like your buoyant laugh,
i jail myself willingly.

they say i've got a tiger's strength,
but it spills out of my worn sleeves
whenever i hear you breathe.

they say your actions speak louder,
but i always get the wrong idea,
though we're looking for the same old thing.

and i don't know where to lay my head,
there's too many stones in my bed,
and a story behind every one.

sometimes at night they whisper to me,
about the things that might have been,
i could try to tell you what it means...

but i'm always told that it's way too much,
or never ever good enough,
so i'll keep my lips pressed tight
so i won't have to say goodbye.

i want to fall into a routine
where being with you has meaning,
and i want you to want the same for me,
i want you to want the same for me,
i want you to want the same for me.

charmed respite

lets eliminate
the air between us
and cling to our skins
in the quiet hours.

let me press my face
into your neck
and match breathing patterns,
let me have this content time.

i've been waiting for so long
to write that kind of song,
and i want this to
last long enough to forget
that it's only just a moment.

lets close our eyes
and savour it.
i think we've earned
this charmed respite.

december 28th, 2009

just listen to my story:
it proves i want to give you
everything i can
whenever you may need it.

just look into my eyes:
they've been open for a hundred years
and i want to close them
by your side.

just take my hands:
they've been ready all along,
they sing with ink
all through the evening.

just kiss me now:
for snow is falling on my hair
and my lips are
numb and pleading.