I listen to the braying of my heart


It beats without permission

This mechanical piece of passion

And when the world around me gives up

And the dreams are falling apart

I listen to the braying of my heart


The candles they burn out

At the turn of that last page

My story remains unread

In the depth of the dark

I still listen to the braying of my heart


My mirror it stares

A boorish sight it beholds

Hollow eyes on a blank canvas

While they deafen out my soul’s talk

I listen to the braying of my heart


The hands are now numb

The world passed me by

As my soul turns weary

And legs give up the walk

I listen to the braying of my heart


I am. I am. I am.


Because it always ends
Before it even begins
Because I lose my thought
Each time time twists and spins

Because truths often
Hurt more than the lies
Because running away
Helps the soul’s infinite sky

Because the best world
Is always a fantasy
Because one step out of the bell jar
Brings you back to reality

Because every life unloved
Is a life that is dead
Because in every love what’s told
Is never enough said

Because every soul has an audience
And every audience a voice
Because even music sometimes
Is just a lot of noise

Because that which doesn’t kill
Gives you pleasure too
Because everyday I breath this dead air
I love you too….


Stuck in a Bell Jar

Appear, disappear
My mundane dreams,
They beckon a shadow
In a brightly lit room
In a crowded buzz
I’m in the dark, alone
The chair stares me down
An empty executioner
With nowhere to go
They smile and laugh
And appear, disappear
And suddenly I’m crying alone
Inside out or outside in
Does it really matter?
I wouldn’t really know
But as the day ends
The dawn sets in
For an unlikely morrow
I still wake up all alone

To Sylvia

She conquers death everyday
lives to see the bloodstains
the slit wrists
everyday the window is darker
and the house lonelier still
She walks down the stairs creak
indomitable sounds of the night
tear through the silence
every night a new dream dawns
of white lights and what not
Mornings return unforgiven
The smoke settles and the drinks drain
The emptiness back
and wounds reopen
the world seems ugly
and her soul uglier still
Trapped in a Bell Jar
the world is far away
noises fade away
and the house is a silent friend
And then one day
when the jar will break
and the rug blood red
will welcome the uninvited guest
The world was always
too beautiful, too ugly
all in the same life!