Monthly Archives: July 2012

I wish I was more.

This song is one I came up with without very much forethought. I was feeling very low and crying wasn’t doing a thing to help, so I sang instead: 



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Now, as loved.

The Mother

This painting was inspired by an album cover idea an online friend of mine shared with me. I didn’t precisely interpret his ideas, but was interested enough to want to finish. The poem below is one from a better moment in time, couple of months ago. But I’m not okay right now and haven’t been lately. The painting may be the last I bother with. I say that a lot but, really…I can’t keep going along with the way things are now. I don’t want to. No amount of pills or sessions can replace the will missing that keeps everyone else fighting the way they do to survive.

Nowhere Else

Here I can be as I am nowhere else
Limb by limb – drawn adrift and
Several layers through, I stretch this
Constant escape of outward breath

My dying heart is pressed.
Soul loosens and departs its flesh
Now as one with the ocean’s hum
Now, as loved

As I could never love.

Far it rests within the dark. A frozen keep of
Pure flame and its single share of wings
The dimmest heaven I could ever dream…
To see the vibrant eyes of such a blessing bleed

Lifted, we fly just for the fall
Strength behind our sacrifice with no meaning at all

Ripple – gently the surface breaks.
No matter how long I’ve been gone
You surround me in my shame.
You console and silence my every ache

Found finally where I belong.
Drowned full and so gracious for
Life within you,
Where I am never wrong.


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To understand how to fly…

By Any Means

Long before she even knew of no,
And those wide wings ached
To lift her high…

Agony enraptures the spark of my spine
And the cry was heard well past the
Wiser weakness of gone through.

Still I, always the untrue
And you, always the wrong
And both our skies would never fall
Were we to will them to,

The nightmare still remains to be felt
And no matter what worse way I think up to
Console myself, all is useless.
Fear has drained me and I will not get far
Before I am taken and all is ripped apart.

Then sooner be the end to both our need…
Let it come – let it have me,
Let it be shown my way.

By movement of any means
Sweat me of this sickness-
Bleed me of all regret and
Make room
For my mind again.


The painting is new, completed about two or three weeks ago. I used the poem below it as lyrics to music I was working on, which I might post one day once my embarrassment dies down…

This is a short clip of a live song performance I covered. Only the first verse and chorus. Worth being laughed at, but maybe one day I’ll feel nothing and won’t care:


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Breath Enough

What I am can’t make it here.

New song with acoustic guitar, “The One you Know”. Lyrics are on my music page:

And here’s another little piano thing- random lyrics and music I just worked on to find some relief from what I’ve been thinking about. It’s strange, but I’ve cried listening back though it. That’s never happened to me before. Not with my own music, dead as I sound trying to sing my own words.

That song & those random lyrics:

Stay, be patient.
The end will come.
Your faith will find the door.

And I’ve waited.

Better days were breath enough, long ago.
So long before
My blood began to pour.


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By the Next Dose


It has broken in.

By the Next Dose

I hear them above again
On their way
Always getting there-
Going – always gone.

For not one moment can they stop reminding me
There is a place I have yet to reach.
There is someone I am supposed to be,
But even she has long lost belief

In that moment of gathered change.
My freshly written page witnessed by the light
Of rewarded days, rewards of grace – my path retraced
After future’s “somehow…someway”

I pour them all out again,
Piled in each hand back and forth –
As if closing then opening a door…
I don’t know what I wait for when it won’t
Matter the difference – it won’t matter who understands

Here alone, I’ve waited
I’ve given myself fair chance

And even with miles between
It’s the same story – the very same scene
The same cry, the same bleed,
The same dying I repeat

And I know just what everything not happening means.
Nothing apart the nightmare –
A sky never of peace.
The angels, dream fed then gutted in my sleep…

I am sorry I wade below so shapelessly undone,
So ruined by my reason.
And I won’t know you long enough to love, but
I promise I won’t need you far beyond what you’ve become

And this time, of us,
I’ll be the first gotten rid of.


I started this poem one night last year. Right before taking my medication, I sat there pouring the tablets from one hand to the other, thinking about all sorts of possibilities.


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To dreams of another’s imagining .

Again, I rise to stand.

From the weight I carry.

I don’t trust my next attempt.

Weary of flight.

Still a slave to these dreams…

More sketches from months before. Just want to show them before I’m not around to anymore. I’ve started new art and for the first time don’t care if I finish my ideas. There is no money in this, no future in me. The lie isn’t holding up anymore. My family wouldn’t give a damn if one person so insignificant as I found a new place to rot with the rest of what’s useless in their lives. It’s true and always has been. I’d like to be pushed out. Pushed over the edge where it will be too difficult and simply too late to undo what happens. Not taken back to something that will never work out.


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