An Afternoon at Kate Sessions Park

I hear wind, weaving its way through the light-green leaves of paper trees with bare spots where bark has peeled away, leaving patches that look like light pastel paints blotched on the trunks. children are laughing, adults talking, music from a portable radio playing. my fair hair is in my eyes but pushing past i find frisbees flying in between boys with no shirts, tennis balls bouncing down the hill and dogs named Jill tumbling after. towels are spread out like islands with skin on them, burning in the sun. hip girls with flowered blouses roll around, laughing at life, their bare feet feeling fresh grass so green and so new that old brown leaves fall from their trees to it, hoping to feel young again. further down a checkerboard of trees and homes fit in front of a busy bay with boats and birds about, while west a small strip of sand fends off an expanse of endless ocean with glitter dancing on it. i see south that downtown doesn't stop for a sunday. planes land and then launch. cranes construct. tall buildings brew business. cars make moves on a man-built bridge, hunched over a harbor and beyond a haze, mountains in Mexico beg notice. all of this works below us. but not us up here on this hill so high. we just bask in the brilliance, and watch bubbles blow by.

Alcohol

The suits and ties travel near and far
From the Downtown club to the beachside bar
Slicked-back hair, a smile and wink
They've just come from corporate and they've got just the drink
From La Jolla shores to La Mesa stores
They steal from the rich and from the poor
You see, alcohol is our liquid whore
It always puts out, we always want more
Napa Valley wines, and moonshines with zest
Send suckers with their wallets to put drinks to the test
But it doesn't matter if they succeed or they fail
Next week they'll have something new for sale
Gins that are dry, vodkas higher than Skyy
Each comes with it's promise, each comes with it's lie
So which one of these wonders will make your summer lips moisten?
Belly up, but beware, when they ask "what's your poison?"

If I Could Find the Queen's Grace

i wish my words could convey what my heart holds, to tell u how my gut is in a clamp. i wish i was a better painter, so i could show you how dark everything around me is. how color's lost its luster...everything's lost it's luster. its like having tight shoes on the wrong feet. i don't want to go anywhere, it hurts so bad. i often hang my head and watch tears fall from my face, racing to the ground to see how big of a splash they can make. i moved here to sing but my throat's choked up and the happy tunes have fled with the light, chasing all the summer-skinned kids who say they have no regrets.

....i do. and when i'm an old man, someone will ask, "what were you thinking?"

i don't know. i was too busy drinking. but if i could take it all back u bet your ass i would. if i could go back i'd tell the truth with my words and my actions...and stop giving a shit about what the world thinks. if i could go back i'd lay there with you a little longer, tuck your locks back behind your ears and tell you truly, "there is nowhere else i'd rather be, i wouldn't trade this for anything."

what i'd give to go back

The Amputee

Throughout my life I have been blessed with some great friends that helped me in a number of ways. They've made me ask questions, got me to pick up a guitar, a pen, a paintbrush, a camera, a book, showed me things I might never have seen otherwise. They showed me how to laugh, and that with their help I could make it out here. When times have been bad, my friends have been there to help me, they've kept me going...they are my legs...and they have been amputated. Someone cut them off in my sleep, and now I find myself going nowhere. staring at the walls in my house, expecting them to tell me something new...but they don't...they just stare back, watching me collect dust alone. they've got more than I do. they've got each other, holding one another up. they are strong when they are together. I am legless, but ya know what? I always did wanna learn how to walk on my hands.

sound

Another night's come upon us
And then that night turns to morning
Sound doesn't stay still.
It's always playing about my ears
...this side and then that side...
Always teasing, never ceasing,
Seizing upon silence, an audio appliance
In full effect with the mute-switch misplaced.
I hope it turns up before it's erased.

you are my drug

Is it bad that I sometimes sing my song simply to grab you...to draw you in and collect your attention, thoughts, and looks?

You are the next girl that will cause me to stumble,
And once i've got a hold I'll somehow fumble you,
Slipping through my hands after feeling so good in them.
You are my drug....and it only took
Half a hit and one look to get me hooked.

But if things seem to happen the way they usually do,
I'll go to find you and you'll disappear from view.
And then I'll head out west...an absolute mess,
Reaching for the top of the world.

Come Cold

On this near-november morning I see no birds soaring.

Just a nipping cold on my dripping nose
And as i huddle here i struggle dearly to remember my toes.
The sight might bring fright of frost bite to some but to me it numbs an old affliction and abets a new addiction.
Limbs become useless, and excuses move to the front of my brain and then drift again like the swell of a riff And then, I find peace...then my shivers cease. Against all warning, it's then my heart finds warming.
So when that cold comes find your fire...grab your blanket
But as for me and my dripping nose...we can take it.