My Muse

She is a stiff necked girl
She looks neither to the left
Nor to the right
What she does not see tears at my heart

When she comes to me
My desert is gone
Replaced by a rugged landscape
Of formal rocks
And proud trees
My thirst is forgotten

But where are we?
Who are we?
We say a few words;
What do they mean?

Then she walks away like the last train out of Paris
Leaving a vacuum
For the armies of doubt to invade

She is a stiff necked girl
Yet she sees everything
Does she see me?

Into each rain

It is amazing.
After the dishonorable actions of the seattle symphony cause me to lose not only the only venue I had for my music, but also the main source of my yearly symphonic amusement, another source of food for my musical needs pops up seemingly out of nowhere.
On my way out of benaroya hall, where I had been removed by security, I walked up to the beautiful new Seattle Public Library and found that the Ladies Musical Club presented free concerts there. As it turns out, one of thier musicians was a clarinettist who had done some preliminary on a new piece of mine work for me. I subsequently contacted her and she offered to help me with my score.
Considering that I was tossed out by the seattle symphony for asking a musician if she would comment on my music, this is a pleasant, if slightly ironic turn of events.
It is Easter, a time of rebirth.

Princess

I saw her crying in the window of her castle in the rain
Her name was love
Her name was pain

I offered her my heart if I could come out of the rain
We'll share love
We'll forget our pain

She turned her head away from me with a gesture of distain
She wants no love
Not that again

Then she closed the window of her castle in the rain
Her name was love
She loved her pain

More silly poetry

The fog rolls in on little cat feet
Takes a dump in the bay
Then runs around like a crezy thing
Chasing nothing