Back Home

Well I'm back, I guess
From travels abroad
but home doesn't feel like home anymore
and I'm tired
from red eye flights
with movie screens
and airplane dinners
Well I'm back, I guess
from far away places
with sleepless nights
and pristine beaches
and I'm tired
from all the things I've seen
and may never see again
I'm back, I guess
but I'm not ready to be home
I'm not ready to do the things
I don't want to get done
I'm tired
just thinking
about all I must do
Now that I'm back.

To do before I leave

Packing my bags for a long trip I realize I'm not ready
I'll never be ready to find my way
In a world so buzy
So lazy
So crazy
I'm so tired of leaving this way
I know that I've got to give myself a vacation
Got to take a minute to pull back the curtain
And de-clutter my mind for a while
But I know that I never return with a smile
That's quite like the one I wore the first mile
I know that nothing ever works the way I want it to
And I know I'll toss and turn every night that I'm gone thinking of you
You drive my crazy
Mostly because I never imagined it could be quite like this
Living my life from kiss to kiss
I never thought I'd find love in a broken world, I swear
And I fear that I won't return in one peice
With my suitcase in one hand and my heart in the other
I swear I'll try to come home to you
But I know that I won't
Because as the plane takes it's first steps up the runway
I'll be changing
And every time I touch back down
Every time I turn myself around
With every wish you were here postcard I send
I'll be changing
And I won't be myself once I reach the end
I know.
But what's life without some changes?
Packing my bags with the things I won't need
I pull some underwear off the shelf
And I pray to a deaf, dumb, blind god for help
Where am I going?
Where will I be?
And what will I, what should I do with myself?
I pack more pens than clothes
More journals than socks
I carry my suitcase a mile
Just to put my belongings on trial
To see if they weigh enough
I'm so heavy
I can't walk another step
Can't take even one more breath
I'm so sick of myself
And the trains
And the planes
I'm tired of traveling alone
And I wish I could take you along
Every where I go
Every road I walk
I wish you were there with me
Every person I meet
Every meal that I eat
I wish you were here with me.
Packing my bags before a long trip I realize I'm not ready
Everything is in order, save my heart and my mind
I could leave today, but I don't know what I'd find
I don't think I can do this alone
You can't leave the gate if you can't open the door
I realize that I'm more afraid of my own backyard than I am of the sea
And I wish I could bring myself to walk outside
but there are a thousand things I'll have to get done
A thousand things I'll have to do
before I leave.

Your socks will be on the drier

Your socks will be on the drier
If you need them, that's where they'll be
Because I've finished the washing
I'll leave them on the drier, you see
They'll all be in the family room
talking about me
but their socks will be on the drier
and if they need em, that's where they'll be.
Your socks will be on the drier
they'll be waiting for you there
and I'll be having my morning cry
which will give you all quite a scare
but your socks will be on the drier
in the laundry room under the stair
Your socks wait on top of the drier
and if you look you'll find them there.
Your socks will be on the drier
I've finished giving em a good clean
The socks will all be on the drier
Though I fear I've made quite the scene
Your socks will be on the drier
It's the start of a brand new routine
In which I leave the socks on the drier
once the laundry's done and they're clean.

Bus stop haiku for Kerouac

sitting writing
at the bus stop
I contemplate life

people buzz and hum

waiting for their lives

to arrive

the boy on his skateboard

plays with his keys

staring at the clouds

hoping for rain

on a summer's day

I bring an umbrella

in the dark

shadows drift

I cannot sleep

corner standing man

gazes at the girl

his eyes unfocused

broken looking girl

with the green hair

what's your story?

sitting with her

on a hot afternoon

I sigh inwardly

waiting at the bus stop

I call you

-again

plaid shirt man

looks my way

his eyes smolder

leaving the bus

I catch a glimpse

of his sketchbook

alone in my room

pick up a book

I slip off the dust cover

highway blues

roll out of the radio

just ten more miles

fishing for words

for the beautiful stranger

'love your hair?'

empty road

I walk slowly

feeling freedom

lipstick stain

on the rim pf her glass

my heart breaks

parlez vous?

a lady asks

shake my head and leave

her dyed red hair

and deep gold tan

set the room ablaze

writing on

this crumpled napkin

much nicer than paper

Alaska

She moved, naked
within the room
and he watched
from without.
her hair black
her eyes glowing purple
her skin painted green
by the light of the midnight sun
as it shone through the window.
she opened her eyes
pausing her step
to turn on a light
and she saw.
and then what?
a loss of innocence?
a gain in knowledge?
an awareness of-
something.
she pulled out a book
she pulled on a skirt
and sat by the fire
-she put on a show
reading.
he watched her then
late into the night
he watched her fingers
flip the pages slowly
one by one by one.
a graceful dance
the song she hummed
swelled in her heart
and outwards
upwards
inwards again
notes pulsing
one by one by one.
and she cried with the dawn
tears coursing down her chin
dribbling into her lap
one by one by one.