December

Maddie, sing for me again
For it's been too damn long since your voice has called to me
And join me in the memories I make

With false friends who couldn't seem truer in the moment
And true friends due to fade out of the spotlight
And friendly faces which are only so friendly
But at least I know where they stand.

Maddie, sing for me tonight
Sing for me for all time

Sing for me and my home
Broken down and reassembled

My relationships
Ripped to pieces and sometimes mended

My career
On life support and thrown a lifeline

My life
Deconstructed and reconstructed.

Maddie, sing for me and all the beautiful faces
All the beautiful bodies
All the beautiful souls
For to me, they're merely beautiful strangers
And in a different time, I might have cared.

Most of all, Maddie, sing for me
Sing for the sense I try to make of it all

The elation
The madness

The brilliance
The stupidity

The adoring
The despising

The living for life
The living to die.

Maddie, sing for me while I'm still living.
Maddie, sing for me before I die.

Maddie, sing for me again
And again and again and again
For nothing else will ever be the same
Once December has come to an end.

[This poem is dedicated to Madalean Gauze, whose album Sing has defined my 34th year more than any other, especially the song Accumulations of Life.]

Perfectly Matched

To him, a woman was always a plaything
And she was all too happy to let him play her

To her, a man was always beneath her
And he was happy as long as she was on top

But she never knew how to respect a man
And he never knew how to respect a woman
So they never knew how to love each other
For what the hell is love without respect?

To him, she was another notch in his belt
And the notch was pleased each time he removed his belt

To her, he was another means to an end
As long as he had the means, she enjoyed the end

But she never truly appreciated a man
And he never truly appreciated a woman
So they never truly loved each other
For without appreciation, what is love?

To him, she is just another memory
Another hazy blur in his feeble, cluttered mind

To her, he is just another mistake
Another grotesque blemish on her vastly subpar record

And she'll never truly love the next man
And he'll never truly love the next woman
For they're too deeply in love with themselves
To know what it means to truly love

So she'll mourn for everything they could have been
And he'll mourn for everything they got to be
And when the mourning ends tonight, the night will bring another morning
And together, they shall lie in the darkness.