mikael

In Honor of Journal Poetry Day comes another recent song, unrecorded. Itching to be recorded, in fact. Lots is going on now. I think it's fitting and relevant. Enjoy.

Chartreuse

This voice you hear
Has tried to appear
As kind,
As near
To you as your own

My choice is clear
Ive tried to appear
To you as tears
when youre alone

when we fell into
This world, who knew
That pain remained
As fear? Did you?

And the only medication that we have is love
Your love, my love

And when youre lost
inside the dust
of living large and cities
You have the choice
to hear my voice
Without judgement and pity

Your eyes remind
Me of the sky
So vast and so true
Can I float up into
The Abstract white formations of your love
My love, this love.


As you sit and listen to
the dark, sarcastic city
You have the choice
to know my voice
Has no judgement or pity
Except for love, this love, this love

And my eyes appear
As dry and clear
Like glass-blown spheres
But they hide all the fear
And the pain that steers
Me toward the revelation
That your love is my love,
Yes, our love, this love