June 2005 – Berkeley

When you heard the news
Did you think that you deserved it?
Some awful punishment?

To waste away in perfect privacy
Hidden
From God and those you love.

Now you’re skipping pills
Some weird economy
To save on bills; but not to save your life.

Did we forget you
In our inertia
Did you fall into
A gap in conscious time?

I see you on the street
I see you losing weight
In the Mission
You could use one now.

You slip between the moments
Slip between the oceans
In the quarter rests.

Show me the way
To march in this pride parade
We’ll leave these lives, and jump on highway one
Driving north
North
Don’t look back
Drive straight into the sun.

You slip between the moments
Slip between the oceans

In the quarter rests.

You slip between the moments
Slip between the oceans
In the quarter rests.

June 2006 – Oakland

Come inside; I’ve a story to tell.
About choices I’ve made
And some I’ve come to regret.

Like I’ve never stayed anywhere
Long enough to love anyone right.
How I’m never safe
So I can’t make you safe tonight; lying awake.

Give in; you can pick up the phone
We’re not the only ones
Who feel alone.
Yet we hide in the masquerade
We hide in the river of stones.
And we ride just like passengers
Damned to never go home.

If I reach for you
Would you fall back and shudder?
We can all, we can all
Take better care of each other.

Come inside; I’ve a story to tell
About choices I
Might not have time to make.

For I’m riding this train, that only pulls
Into stations for a moment or two.
And the passengers change
And I’ve no one
To hold on to
Along the way.

October 2003 – Washington, DC

You say it’s fine; just a tempest in the night.
I’m the reason you cannot confide, am I not?
A telepath, a kind word across a telegraph.
I’d collect them, coming fast, too fast.

I might see you every day
I might see you not at all
But it’s not quite quiet yet.
It’s not quite quiet
Yet.

A roiling sky, the better if we’re to hide.
It’s the season for holding tight and closing up.
I lay by your side, but the tempest is in your eyes
And you’re harder to hold than the storm right outside.

Sleep on, sleep on.

The storm knocks the limbs down to the ground
And the grid fails and every light goes out
And we light these candles, the best to see you with
And hold them here in shelter indefinite.

The power lines come down, and all we’ll know is dark.
But would we notice through the darkness of our hearts?

And it’s not quite quiet yet
We’ve still a few days left
It’s not quite quiet yet
Here.

February 2006, Lake Tahoe / April 16, 2006, Berkeley

And it’s too late tonight
For me to come on out.
Sometimes I need some time to myself.
We could play cards
We could play at hearts
You know, that ain’t out worked out well for me
This far.

Oh, I am all right on my own
And I’d rather be alone
I’m a solitary stone.

And it’s too late tonight
For another rocket west
I am not so easy to know
Though you do your best.
We could play cards, we could play at hearts
But the outcome is uncertain
Though I’m certain
Of my part.

I cannot, I cannot count on everyone
‘Til we learn to be a little better, baby
I’ll be countin’ on this one.

And it’s too late tonight
For me to come on out.
Sometimes I need some time to myself.
We could play cards
We could play at hearts
You know, that ain’t out worked out well for me
This far.

I am all right on my own.
And I’d rather stay at home.
I’m a stationary, I’m a solitary
I am not a rolling stone!
I’m a stationary, I’m a solitary,
This stone rocks alone!

April 2006, Berkeley
For Ana-Carolina Zeri

We could maybe split the difference
Orlando & Sao Paulo.
These United States you know get oh so serious.

Before I lose myself to ambition
I’d ask your permission
To visit you down south.

Baby, I was born in Mexico City,
I have missed it so.
I have lived and died in the pavement north.
Can I come in from the cold yet? I have felt so old now
I have felt so old.

I have tried to make a difference
In this northern land.
Our power here is great.
But baby, here they just don’t understand
The world beyond their states.
And I am the unusual alien
For I look quite the same.

We are southern bells
Ringing in the sun
Weathered by belief
And colors of pastels
All along
Our dirty streets.

Yet for now I am still waiting
In the well-to-do, well-polished North
As silent as can be.

One day, babe, I’m coming back to your clear waters
And I’m giving this all up.

And we’ll sing in Portuguese
And smile
With the South.

Sept. 9, 2004
International House, Berkeley
For Jessica Lehman

When you’re walking in Skyland
In your bare feet
The buck & the doe in the blueberry patch
Playing hide and seek
I reckon you’ll be calling, maybe looking out for me
Some metaphor for falling with the leaves.

But seeing ain’t believing when you’re stuck with seeing me
I’m hard to believe.

When you’re walking in Skyland
So high you can barely breathe
All colors of autumn
Tickling your feet
You may not feel like calling or like looking out for me
I have long since fallen with the leaves.
I believe it’s all in what we choose to closely keep
I’m betting on the best of all these things.

Seeing ain’t believing when you’re stuck with seeing me
I’ve got redemption, I’ve got roses up my sleeve
I’m trying to believe.

When I’m walking in Skyland
One day that I foresee
I’ll lay down in the blueberry patch
Looking for relief
The buck and the doe are bedded down; they share my memories
They’ll show me just how to let it be.
Metaphors for falling all will fall come the spring
I’m betting on the best of all these things.
And I’ve got a reason still to sing.

Seeing is believing when you stand in front of me
I’m calling your name.
Hey Jessica…
I’m trying to believe.

July 12, 2003 – Washington, DC

I’m unconnected
In my ambitious life
I live in broken moments without grace.
Now what I could embrace
Is your whole and Holy life, with God on Sundays
While you’re weaving a shawl a child’s size
Now I get ready to
Stop the syncopation, get in time
Get people to
Join the One Big Union, unify
And I’m lovin’ it
But I might miss your unity of form
Playing politics of course
Living seconds by the score.

I’m a staccato
And true to torrid form
I analyze the books to make the case
Now what I could embrace
Is your home and homely life
For respect
You’re keeping quiet
Smiling at your mother’s side
Now I get ready to
Stop the syncopation, get in line
I call you to
End the occupation of your mind
But I might miss your unity
For I’m discontinuity
Each second is separate in my eyes.

I don’t want to ruin a painting
I know my touch is a ticking clock
And still I reach.

You’re impossible to climb.
You’re impossible to climb.

Come connect the moments by my side
Stop the syncopation of my life.

Berkeley / Oakland
May/June 2006

I could see you after midnight,
For what it’s worth.
Or in the early morning
When you finally get off work.
I could find you on the hillside
Sifting dreams
Reading letters you never received.

You are so good
With words
She says to me.
But I am not so good
With meaning, apparently.
I am so good with words
She says to me.
But these words
Cannot keep you, cannot keep.

If I could meet you
To sit with me
In silence.
To understand the beauty in simple things.
If I could somehow share
How to love the longing
I might find meaning in my reach.

I could see you after midnight
Without a word
Taking out the ghost ride
When you finally get off work.
I have seen you in the sunrise
Waking up
Gathering belongings
When we should be making love.
But I see you on the shoreline
Skipping stones
And each bears a wish to be alone.

You are so good
With words
She says to me.
But I am not so good
With meaning
Apparently.
You are so good
With words
She says to me.
But I believe
I’m long since
Out of reach.

I stare out the window and see time
And constance
The sadness in all things.
And it’s beautiful
Though I cannot expect
Anyone to see the same
That’s the madness I keep.

I never meant to be good, only
To understand myself
And why I can’t feel right.
And every well-written word
Eases my unquiet mind
Just confides to realize twisted

You are so good
With words
She says to me
But I am not so good
With staying
In your reach.

You are so good
With words
She says to me
But I am not so good
With love
Apparently.