Some Where Else With You

(To Emma Jean Noble who died April 22nd 2005)
When I think about it
as I sat there watching,
thinking I was watching
her soul slipping away,
she was already gone,
and to where, I wish I knew.
And, God, if I only knew
then I could go there too.
If only I knew where,
and if she were watching me,
to make sure she still loved me.
But, Grandma, I miss you.
I miss Shera and Grandpa too
in that old trailer in Sheridan,
back in that hell hole called Sheridan.
And I hated the wake.
I almost cried seeing you there.
I couldn't stand seeing you there
with my family members gauking at your body,
but you weren't there.
You were somewhere else,
and I wish I was there too.
Somewhere else...
with you.

A Drive Off the Edge

Life just doesn't seem like life
When you don't have anybody
To help you put down the knife
And hope seems too far away
When the bridge is just too close
And it'd be easier to fall away
And maybe I'd care
If someone cared first
Maybe I'd live
If I hadn't messed
everything up
Sorry for all the Hell
I'm gonna put you through
Sorry I didn't tell you sooner
How much I love you

Alter Call

Give me a rock to stand on
and watch me fall
give me a reason to hold on
yell for an alter call
watch me keep slipping
no matter how steady the waves
watch me keep tripping
on the things I hate to crave
maybe if I scream and yell
I can scare it all away
maybe if I just never tell
anyone, I'll be okay someday
Hello, are you really there
why can't I see you
Why can't I feel you
Hey, why's it so dark in here
what do I do
what can I do
give me a rock to stand on
and watch me fall
give me a reason to hold on
screaming for an alter call
praying to God that
this isn't all
there is left to life for
crying for an alter call

A Tree: What You Want and What You Get

I once was small, and didn't add up to all that much of anything.
I didn't grow up as fast as I was kind of hoping.
I dreamed of touching the sky.
I wanted to feel the clouds swoosh by.
I wanted to grow big and strong and stand tall.
I needed to be better than those who call
themselves kings and beauty queens.
I had to do more than shade the ground. I wanted tired swings.
I wanted a heart carved into my chest.
I wanted love birds, in my branches, to nest.
I wanted kids to hang upside down from my branches.
I craved for them to sit in my shade and eat peanut butter sandwiches,
but things didn't turn out that way.
They never do, but let me tell you that this one day
among all of my hoping and wishing
there was an older man, and he was hunting and fishing.
He looked at me and "Tree," he said,
"You'd be good for firewood,
but my litttle girl is in need of a doll house instead."
And I let him cut me down and chisel at my bark
and for a while I was in a room that was all dark.
And soon after that I was revealed to a six-year-old.
I"d been made into a dream house with furniture and I was painted gold,
purple, green and blue. I was dolls that sat on beds.
I was everything that little girl wanted,
and to this day I've never had a tire swing,
but the crayon marks from the little girl have so much more meaning
than standing tall and being beautiful
because even with all that I lost, I am now full.

Write the Anger Away

The anger in my head
seeps down to my fingertips
The melancholy runs
From my arm to my tight grip
On the pencil in my hand
On the rage I cannot stand
I explode in burst of scribbles
I rant in symbols, in letters,
The letters for the words
I scream in my literature
To vent my unbearable rage
To keep on talking to the next page
So I do't hurt myself
And keep telling myself it's okay
I write to keep myself in line
I write to make the demons go away

Last Night's

hugs. kisses. duct tape art.
PB&J cut into hearts.
fingertips. cold feet. belly buttons.
lips meet.
holding hands.
lime green rubber bands.
watches. neckties. earrings. dreads.
beanies. pony tails. your hand behind my head.
your back to the wall. my back to your chest.
your arms around me. cuddled close feels best.
Utopia by Thomas More.
Edgar Allen Poe's "Nevermore."
Shel Silverstein's "Love" and "Picture Puzzle Piece."
and I do believe there's Jet's "Look What You've Done."
now I lay down. Cuddled up. 9 o'clock PM.
messy hair. frizzy curls. 3 o'clock AM.
midnight. milkshakes.
cookies. chocolate kisses.
blue eyes. green eyes.
closed eyes. wishes.
tucked in. music on.
lights off. he's gone.

Ode to Art

Beauty lies
In the eyes
Of the beholder
And no matter
How hard I try
I cannot move this boulder
That represents my passion
My overwhelming obsession
With these fine paints
Or those fine brushes
With delicate pens
And radiant ink washes
I can hardly keep it in
My crave for their possession
Magnificent paintings
To clay figurines in ballet positions
The soft surface of oil paint
The rough ridges of sandstone
Textures my fingertips yearn for
A love to which I've grown
So much more than accustom to.
Upon my walls hang
Portraits of tomorrows Van Gogh
Within the museum walls
Are testimonies of those who know
How a pencil is a masterpiece
Just waiting for you to look
How its magnificence is opened
By a piece of paper from a sketchbook