solacewe let the quietsettle in refreshing poolswe might bathe in themthe solace embracesas we sink into stillnessbetween such old friendsinexpressible currentsfull of memorysuch a comfortknowing onecontinuesA seductive idea,that we have shared this moment'scontentment beforewe have, haven't weone illusion presents anotherfinally unrealthe void is unchanging, stillas it's always been
CadenzaSuppose each one of us older than the stars,suppose that we are other than the ragged beggars we seem,suppose that our engulfing slumber, our inner darkness,is constantly erupting with the vanity of dreams.Consider those uncounted aeons swallowed in the oceansof that virtuality, where we, the ever drowning mariners,must cling to the absurd shapes we call reality.Will we, unknowing captives, ever be free?Has liberty become our cage of captivity?Oh yes, we writhe, our nakedness become despair.as our frenzied touching reveals that nothing's there.
Willing FleshFlesh the means, spirit the end,yet still the unintended. While deepembedded in the pulsing rhythmsof the body's routine life, it transcendsphysicality, flourishing in realitiesnever imagined before. Spirit is the keyto unlock the heavy door, to makethe great discovery of joy.
confessions of a girl in debtIt's almost one in the morningand I have to work tomorrow.But I just can't sleep.I'm too busy writingand searching forways to save the earthand pretending to beBilly Joel.It's almost one in the morning,and I'm in debt again.I wish I had the time to be Billy Joel,but I have to workso I can get out of debtand still have enough money left overto paint my car bright green,and enough timeto save the earth.It's almost one in the morningand I'm on stage,my feet moving independentlyof my body.Or I'm in the audience,not caring who seeshow bad of a dancer I am.Or I'm wherever the hellI want to be;at least until I open my eyesand find myself back in the dull lightof my laptop,trying so hard tosuppress that little voice,screaming and flailing it'snon-existent limbs,telling me to gohop in my Corolla andnever come backuntil I've found a wayto be Billy Joel.It's almost one in the morningand as much as I'd love to be Billy Joel,I have to work tomorrow.