circus hands

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

take off my monkey clothes and see me for who i really am
for who i really am

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

don't you see me staring blankly in your eyes expecting orders all the time
all the time

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

you use me for change and laughs and giggles i don't see your smile anymore but your greed
who are you now
why is it only now that i know this

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

my red outfit and my monkey hat can't impress you yet
you still askin' and askin' for change and compliments
compliments for you, not me
not me
not me

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

give me a break and let me out and treat me like a kid again and maybe then
i'll grow for once and let you know that all the time i played that song i really cared
and then and then
i'll be a real kid again
not some monkey in a circus
playing cymbals for your greedy hands

what can i do
to make you look at me
behind the cymbals?

love me, love me once instead
for who i am

Good Friday

from 2004-04-06:

Standing there,
in oblivion,
I gazed up at Your melancholy eyes.
You looked down upon me,
As You always did,
Flinching in pain as You struggled to see my face.


Your face was covered with blood,
Tormented blood:

blood from the cuts of Agony,
blood from the cuts of Betrayal,
blood from the cuts of Friendship,

...blood from the cuts of the Heart.

And yet, You still looked down upon me,
Guiding me with your hawk-like stare.

How I looked at Your hands now--
Hands of Love--
Now covered with sanguine rivers
Which I have caused, and swam upon.

I looked at Your feet,
Covered with the dirt,
which I have caused,
But didn't regret one moment of it...
The dirt I walked upon.

And yet,
a huge pain emerged from just the sight of You,
The pitiful sight of You,
As I spat at Your feet,
Grimaced at Your face,
And cursed Your name
Many, many times...

but before the Last Hour,
When the clock struck 3...
When I was freed,
but You were locked away...
You looked up at the sky,
and You gave Your spirit to the Father.

...but I did not cry.
Instead, I looked down upon the dirt,
And up at the cross where You laid--
The cross I had built
for You to die on,
carrying all my sins...
My many, many regretful sins.

At times, I would hurt You
Without the least consideration.

I built Your cross,
I nailed Your hands and Your feet,
I was Your pain,
and You were my Sorrow...

Yet, You still forgave me...
And You still love me...
The warmth of my sorrowful heart.

looking glass

break-wall-shatter,
stones of glitter and ice;
mirror standing at my side,
blinding me with sunlight--

then it goes again,
repeating repeating repeating me.

break-wall-shatter,
stones of glitter and ice;
the sun rays at my side,
i'm no longer seen as my own person--

then it goes again,
repeating repeating repeating me.

break-wall-shatter,
stones of glitter and ice;
i'm enveloped in the sunlight,
too bright to be seen--

too dirty to remain only one being.

then it goes again,
repeating repeating repeating me.

Ode to Motherhood

My dear.

(No--that won't do.)

My beloved dearest.

(A little better, but not quite.)

My beloved sanctuary in all the heavens and angels and saints singing alleluia in chorus to your name chimed in the whispering winds of the sky's deepest blues and fanciest purples.

Hello to you.

(--Much better--.)

I've a limited time to tell you things directly,
but one shot is all I need.
After all, you left without saying "I love you" with your fake smile.
So I didn't think that highly of you,
I'm terribly sorry to say.

Well, I'm stupid.

I don't understand the meaning of life because I'm a stupid teenager.
And I don't understand your fake smile.
But if you loved me too,
couldn't you have just..

Cried?

And cried you did, until you died.
Died 'til the ends of all eternity, I'm sad to say.

Haven't you ever heard that medicine can't heal your problems with your grandma?

Oh, and he left them in the toolbox again.
Oh, and she left the food in the trashcan again.
Oh, and I drove you insane again.

(Don't want to touch upon your nerves, I might add.)

The point is.

Well. (Huh, you were always the blunt one.)

I can say "I love you" a million times until you'd buy me everything I asked for.
Give me all the chores you can possibly recite--I'll fix up the yard, too. The neighbor's yard, even.
And can you say one more time to God why you want a new kitchen more than your own daughter?

Bubbling miscommunication and sorry satisfaction.
(Forgive my jealousy.)

Smile with your eyes open, at least.

Only then will I suffer your Coup de grace.

Signed,
the Undersigned.

Save the Last Dance for Me

by Michael Bublé

You can dance-every dance with the guy
Who gives you the eye,
let him hold you tight
You can smile-every smile for the man
Who held your hand neath the pale moon light
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me

Oh I know that the music's fine
Like sparklin' wine,
go and have your fun
Laugh and sing,
but while we're apart
Don't give your heart to anyone
But don't forget who's takin' you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin' save the last dance for me

Baby don't you know I love you so
Can't you feel it when we touch
I will never never let you go
I love you oh so much

You can dance,
go and carry on
Till the night is gone
And it's time to go
If he asks if you're all alone
Can he walk you home,
you must tell him no
'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darling,
save the last dance for me

'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darling,
save the last dance for me
Save the last dance for me
Save the last dance for me.

The Ballerina

from 2005-01-13:

Glass porcelain erodes me now
from the world and some notebooks
that I’ll never fill;
Staring straight at the figure
sleek with pastel hues,
and engrossed in shades of velvet-like fuchsia.
How it dances behind that oaken covering,
to welcome you with a routine
it has practiced all its life—
Turning and turning,
away from the world,
forever encased in this dead sycamore;

to never dance,
until the box is open.
To never awaken,
until it’s told.

I wonder if there is such a ballerina in my heart;
Only dancing behind a thick,
Wooden chamber.

Will I ever open,
Turning freely in the moonlight,
Without having someone open the box
Just for me?

Perhaps that wish will be granted
(before I trap myself into a maze).
Maybe there’s more to life
than just wondering about simple things
such as these.

But for now,
I’d just like to look at this ballerina,
Made of only glass and porcelain.

in the Blink of death

So what should I do?
Smile for the camera?
Now?
now?
You ready?
you ready?
tell me what to do
--TELL ME--
do I smile,
do I cry?
how should I act
once that camera blinks
and the lights--the LIGHTS--capture my frame?
So what should I do?
smile?
frown?
tell me.
tell me.
TELL ME.

Apple Pie

Crackling Deceptive Engraging Inverno

Crackle Crackle Crackle

hate hate hate

Stay away from my heart
--the apple in my bossom--
Treacherous Worm, rankling Snake!

C h e w i n g...its way into my secrets
C h e w i n g...its way into my world

Easy now--easy.
My chambers are quite dense.

Bite Bite Bite

hate hate hate

So what did you find,
my little pet?
my goddamned devil,

am I your filthy little Eve?

Leak it all to me
and tell Adam,
tell GOD
What you took from me
and what secrets I hide

release it to the world
for all I goddamn care--
chomp your way
through my seething
bloodstream!

LO!
What's this?

No response,

and no BITING?


CRAP--my blood
killed the snake!!