Songs

For a Reason

 

Call it another night,

call it another year,

call it anything you want,

just don’t call it with a tear.

 

I insist, I exist, I subsist, I persist,

but what is it I’ve missed?

I travel further ’til my thoughts are clear.

With bated breath I can scarcely hear

echoes of a voice so dear,

pouring whisky in a glass so near.

 

Crying back to consciousness, the coldness grips my skin.

The sky is pitching violently, drawn by shrieking winds.

Sea spray blurs my vision, the waves roll by so fast.

Save this ship of freedom, I’m strapped helpless to the mast.

 

Remembering when first I held the wheel in my own hands,

I took the helm so easily and sailed for distant lands.

Now the sea’s too choppy and I just don’t understand,

why should my crew desert me when I need a guiding hand?

 

Call out for direction, but there’s no one there to steer.

Shout out for salvation but there’s no one there to hear.

Call out a supplication for the maelstrom is near.

“I thought I saw a way out of here,”

said the joker who became a thief,

“until I was confronted by my fear

and the accumulation of years of grief.

I had joked my way through dreary days,

when I was lost in an endless maze,

then my life entered into another phase

and I drifted on to other ways.

There was nothing funny about stealing

but it erased that uneasy feeling

of trying to salvage each day with a joke,

while finding myself on the verge of being broke.”

 

Between optimism and denial, opportunity and trial,

sometimes in your life your heart grows cold,

for dreary days and the truth untold

about how we’re all here for a reason,

no matter what place, what season.

 

As I watch her body glide,

my memory starts to slide

to a time when I couldn’t find love

seeking solace from the stars above.

 

My breath is losing me as I stumble to my feet,

my purpose eludes me as my heart misses a beat.

I cry with joy, I cry with pain,

I stop the traffic in the rain.

In life’s maze I feel a craze

filling the days like a turquoise haze,

my heart ablaze as fortune sways.

 

Do I seek simplicity?

Do I move with felicity?

Do I fight sobriety?

Do I dread propriety?

 

In the tiny beads of sweat trickling down my face,

I sense a time, another place,

when and where I can’t even say

but fortune’s grace had a role to play,

my aversion to the crowd subsumed

under fingertips of love assumed,

guiding me towards an unknown station

my heart entranced with infatuation.

 

Cast beneath the gaze of passing strangers,

a common feeling of avoided dangers

bathes the soul, engulfs the night

like hands that grip but can’t hold tight.

To My Fellow Traveler

Warm Bloods

We Can Be Eros

Poems

A Day, a Night, and a Whisper

Seeking Serenity