Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Haven't slept since 4am.

Play Rickie Lee Jones.
Muddle with keys.
Talk to myself.
Little mysteries.

And some days I really miss you...

A lot more than I planned I should.
When everyone is gone and I want to call you, 
I remember that you cannot answer.
The time has passed, 
And I should feel a lot more grown up
Than I do right now.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Tea Tales.

And I’m thinking
I shouldn’t have had
That one too many cup
Of Irish Breakfast.
The Earl would be angry
If he found out.
I daren’t mention that coffee
As I’ll be back tomorrow
With less words strung together
Than I can manage now.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

She drove me here...

But she ain't gonna take me away.




Black Pepper.


It was Sunday afternoon.
We sat in his overcast apartment
And he played a song –
Alone, jealous and stoned.
He sipped vodka. Straight.
Stared at the screen.
I smoked another cigarette
And watched his clouds
Articulate through his head
And spread up the wall.
Just another spider web.

Best served with red wine.

The first time I heard Leonard Cohen
(And knew that I heard Leonard Cohen)
I was sitting at that table
In the warmed wooden room of high ceilings
And constant stream of interesting conversation.
That night I wanted to wipe away my youth
So I too could be one of the old wise faces.
And even though I did not know who Marianne was,
Or why we should bid her so long,
A woman across me sang to come over to the window.