a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com


Monday, June 18, 2012

The Baking Lesson

i watched her, from deep in the attic,
from the far corner of the cellar,
from my secret window

with unsteady hands, she broke the egg in two
then, yoke from white, white from yoke,
she schlopped it back and forth
while softly humming a tune
i yet did not know
-the bakers abortion

my pants were too long, too baggy,
and my shoes straggled untied
and i noticed, just beyond her curlered hair,
the sun shining through the dirty window
far too small to escape through
not even if we went one at a time

the sink dripped her minutes
while morning from night
yesterday from tomorrow
hope from desperate dreams
she schlopped, keeping
both of us hypnotized
by it's charm

my nose was running dirty
my hair a tangle of ruin
but she didn't notice
nor he, who was at the diner
eating an omelet

but the lesson she taught, i remember,
i know just how to do it

step one, ignore the boy in the window
draw the shade, and take the curlers out,
now toss them in the oven, turn on the gas,
but don't light it.
the ticking sink will be the fuse

now take one grade A large bomb
throw it against the family portrait
which never spoke the truth
never saw the sunlight
and watch it explode

that's how you make a cake
and even the diner will rock
from the tremors

Monday, June 11, 2012


In his sweet polished shoes
the look of mahogany
he sees his reflection
and is mesmerized

he sees the blazon throne of power
the pinnacle of glory
the banner of his beauty
and the means to achieve all

and also, he sees her,
a perk for the lofty flight with
her soft sensuous curves
and her fine cut breasts

all this, and us too
he carries up his mountain
a throne to build
from his Solomon vision

but on the echoing tarmac
tears of defeat rain heavy
before the raging thunder
of abandonment

her shirt she rips off,
the scarred and scorned breasts
she frames with these words-
"you don't see me anymore!"

and we all fall off his mountain
we fall hard
she falls harder
he's still falling

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

ol carnegie

This is a song (which only i know the melody to) so that's why it will read like shit.

take a bow, take a bow, yeah
let everyone see
raise the roof with your playing
bring the crowd to their feet
cuz if you played the piano
just the way you played me
they'd stand up and cheer
back in ol carnegie

every note strikes a nerve
and your method's precise
the birds up in heaven
even stopped to look twice
your score was on target
your pitch it did soar
and it carried me out
while they came through the door

so take a bow, take another
let everyone see
the way you performed
and the fool that was me
if you played the piano
just the way you played me
you'd kick all their ass's
back in ol carnegie

and she came to me softly, when the moon was up high
she taught me her magic, she said i could fly
and for awhile i believed, just enough to take flight
but like the moon after sunrise, she's no where in sight

and do you ever get lonely
when the lights go down low?
when the curtains are drawn
when the crowd turns to go?
in the silence of midnight
when there's no one to hear
do you long for the laughter
but reach for your fear?

so take a bow, take it now
let everyone see
me left in the shadow
of the song in your tree

and if you played that piano
just the way you played me
you'd be raisin the roof
back in ol carnegie

take a bow, sing it loud
cry it out and be proud
the people are waiting, just look at that crowd
up there in the rafters, up front on their knees
they've all come to see
just how well you played me

Sunday, June 3, 2012

I'd like to walk with you

There are kindred souls that need no further intimacy but acceptance through a smile, a word, a touch. To friends.

I think I'd like to walk with you
over fields of granite stone
in skipping over cracks
fingers touching
keeping balance
a dance of friendship
in youth renewed

I think I'd like to walk with you
down there,
at the edge of town
twenty seven
and not a wisp of wind
large flakes parachuting,
blessing and anointing
our wishes

the snow just deep enough
to chase others to books
as we write our own

you'd hold my arm
I'd clasp your hand
we'd smile, even giggle
but not jabber as others do
for our thoughts would already be
tucked in warm entwine

the snow would give that glow
you know the one
like the moon came down
and left itself behind
it would be so so late
when this we did
and somehow
right on time

I think I'd like to walk with you
on roads of narrow nothing
warm and breezy
soft and slow
sweet wheat high
on waves of tender

you'd look that way
and I over here
as bugs that haunt
summer fields
fly and sing
to our waltz

We'd smile
so glad for the day
and time would be
the world's folly

but we'd talk very little
as a finely tuned piano
should never hide in the rush
when we'd walk
old women who never had
and never would
would," well! dear me! I've never!"
and old men
would lean on their worn tools
and smile at the thought

to know you
on snowy evenings
to smell your freshness
on summer passing
to skip on dance floor stone
I think my mind would be the richer
my thoughts the kinder
my touch more gentle

I think I'd like to walk with you..