Spirits

 



Sometimes I wonder who I am. 
I feel like I'm a grain of sand, 
And if I open up my hand 
I'll slip into another land, 
Where daffodils are blue and pink 
And everyone hears what I think, 
But no one understands a sink, 
And I could use another drink. 

So bring me some old rusty toys, 
And you and I can make some noise. 
We'll laugh and play beside our boys 
Because we know we got our choice. 
And maybe when our night is done, 
You and I can find the sun. 
We'll sit and watch while everyone 
Tries to something something some. 

All they know is all their chains. 
They're slowly marching to their graves, 
'Cause they don't know how to behave, 
And we can see their hearts need saved. 
So come with me, come hear the call, 
You and I will have a ball. 
Maybe when we're done we'll fall, 
But we'll know we had it all.

Freedom

 


One weekend we went to the Lake

To swim, sunbathe, and ride the waves,

But this was the Fourth of July

So there'd be fireworks tonight! 

 

I always wondered how

Fireworks are so loud.

They never say, “Excuse me.”

Or “Sorry for the fuse length.”

Or “Would you mind?”

Or “Could I please?”

Or “Is it too weird

How I breathe?” 

 

Fireworks just soar on up

Then burst apart

As they erupt,

And shine so bright,

So hot and light,

For all the faces near who might

Long for beauty in their sight. 

 

Every heart is bathed in peace.

Every soul here wants to breathe,

To bask in power they create

When showing up 

To celebrate

The future of the land

When freedom is at hand.

Natural Disaster




I have these boxes on my bed,

And all these stories in my head.

They're tied to things around the room.

The moving van is coming soon.

 

There's this one man who's trying hard

To understand my broken heart,

And nothing easy comes our way

But I still have some things to say.

 

Now I'm not sure where all this leads,

Or whether he knows what I need,

But if he has some time tonight

Maybe I can do this right.

 

It's my last night in this old room.

The moving van is coming soon,

And all these boxes will be gone,

Stored tight in darkness for years long.

 

So I call my only love

To ask if he has time enough

To sit awhile on my bed

While stories pop into my head.

 

And I know it's a busy night,

And I don't want to start a fight.

"If there's no time, it's alright.

I just thought it might be nice." 

 

He said, "I need about an hour, dear.

I'd love for more stories to hear.

But I won't sit and watch you work.

I'll help you pack. I'm not a jerk." 

 

“Okay,” I said, exhaling dread, 

Then closed my eyes and sat in bed.

Packing up would not take long.

I didn't want to do this wrong.

 

See, by now my life was strewn

Across three different bedrooms.

Some nights away within my dorm,

Where nights with him I'd truly mourn.

 

And then there was this room here,

Filled with pain and childhood fear.

I wasn't sure where this would lead

Or what exactly I would need.

 

So I decided I would wait.

I knew we both would be up late.

I could start once he arrived

And still finish this job tonight. 

 

But nothing easy comes my way.

Tonight there was a hurricane.

 

It started in the downstairs hall,

A haughty and demanding call,

Then lifted up the stairs until

It brought into my room its will.

 

“Why aren't you packing up this room?

The moving van is coming soon!

Pack up everything in sight

And this has to be done tonight!”

 

“It won't take long, I have some time.

And I have Jesse on my mind.

He's coming over later on

To help before all this is gone.”

 

“You don't need him to help with this!”

The wind was growing to a hiss

And churning all my hopes to dust,

So now the rain became a must.

 

“Just let me do this!” I exclaimed.

I yelled into the hurricane,

“Go downstairs and let me be!

He'll be here soon enough, you'll see.” 

 

Then I made a hasty call

To make sure he could come at all.

“Hey Jesse, are you coming soon

To help with packing up this room?” 

 

“I'm not sure, my night is harder

Than I thought, and taking longer.”

 

“That's okay, I need to know

If you're coming over though.”

 

“I'll be there. I want to, dear.

I'm just not quite done over here.”

 

And this right here became my night,

A tragic and disastrous sight,

The hurricane hitting my room,

Then asking if he'd be here soon.

 

Every round came with more rain.

Every raindrop brought more pain.

And all night long I felt insane

As my heart filled with fear and shame.

 

But finally mercy came to me

Within a call in hour three

When Jesse said he wouldn't be

In time to make it. 

 

And he was sorry. 

 

And I was sorry. 

 

I boxed up everything in that damn room. 

All of it.