Falcon Sound - M.Weisgerber

Touch of the mirror with the backside of my hand
seeing chocolate eyes that melt at the edges,
reminding me its time for a leap.

Falcon Sound - M.Weisgerber

He settled on the name 'plunge', then jumped
sending body on a cartwheel course through midair
catching nimbus between open toes, whilst screaming aloud.
And dropping.

Oh yes, dropping still; creating a secondhand view of the 21st century.
Not feeling gravity's lore, not stuck on simple sounds,
while blending others around tissues scarred.

If we could fill the void with jello, his decent would be slowed, yet still remain graceful
Wishing he could hang forever in midair.
Stealing any precious seconds to remain in flight.

Not stuck on the rocks climbing, upwards.
Not picnic dreams, snared in near briar patches.
Not love, I know not that name; wish to merely cheat death again.
Or strike flesh on the outcropping below, surviving for yet another day.

It's a different sort of backpack worn,
while hanging amidst the ice flows & blue seas.
Pack heavier than your average knapsack.

How odd to touch air, yet not feel the cold.
Or gurgle on the slush blood wrapped inside crimped veins.
To feel bare feet amidst the howling winds, and not care.

Weast - M.Weisgerber

I see the rising east, sweet history; to seek the origin of dreaming
Your eyes rest west; to that of opportunity, and of the dear setting setting sun
West, where Mojo Rising wrote to live,
East, where he died aspiring to better days.
Both, a balance, more potent than any drug.
We, stuck in this middle and ready to run
Ready to jump and play,
To sleep and stay,
or write such simple poetry.

Dirtiest Dancing - M.Weisgerber

Tell me anything, we'll fly to the moon

Tell me your sorry, or tell me your mood

How can I say how I really feel?

How can I tell what's even real?

Every night I'm a better man,

even if I'm insane here all alone.

The dawn is coming, tis early morn

just biding my time to go sound the horn

Ticking of clock, no sound of the crow

Sitting back, just watching you grow!

So much to say, but I'll wait and I'll pray

Take my time, greet the new day

Call me, sign me, sing me a song

Tell me you love me, tell me to get gone

A word, a wink, even a poke

Just say HI, make my heart float!

Chemistry; tis but a simple word.

Love; it can be more than a verb.

Stealing Lennon - M.Weisgerber

I'm so tired__I haven't slept a wink,
Four days tired__ my mind is on the brink,
I tell you that I love you, but I need to just be me

no no no...

Holding on to dreams, just sit here, feeling so mean
You say, I'm falling apart; I say, I'm trying so hard...
I can't sleep, I'm going insane
Cant feel, life's just going down the drain
I'd give you everything everything I've got, for a piece of mind.
I'll tell ya anything I got, all that's on my mind.



I'm so tired__another day is gone
I'm so fried__nothing here to change my life
I told you that its over, that we just need to move on
 so so so...

You say, try me again; I say, I don't think I can,
I can't speak, still going insane!
Doing everything I can, but it's not enough
Waiting around, but still cracking up..
Hanging around, not feeling tough..



You say, I'm doing all wrong; I say, I gotta follow my heart
You tell me, there's got to be a way; I say, I'm GOING INSANE.

I'd give you everything I got to make it all fine...

A Summary of Exhaustion - M.Weisgerber

Honestly, most honored I stand,
glad to be part of troubled days; simple reverie -
- it reminds me how to wake, to sup on easy living:
the moments between clock hands.

What is it about a city that causes reprisal?
Could it be the courses of stone, or longing glances over sips of tea?
I bathe in such matters haughtily; dress accordingly.
Place blade in back to save others the trouble:

It is the steps necessary for wandering.

Dearest coffee held, greet me early today,
halfway between spilled milk & sugar packs;
set the tempo for my morn, unzip lips
- allow the soul to flow freely.

Take me to the highest Andes,
the sweatshop for churned beans produced,
allow me to follow your sailing ship to port,
then finally walk you to my home.

This is where you belong, and help prep me
for another day.

Those Who Run with Knives! – M.Weisgerber

What do you need, on a day such as this?

Warm wind in the hair, soft smells on the face

Everything greening in self delight!

Toes in mud, buried deep; eating live worms.

Being ten again, every day and globs of goo

Adding to the stain of tie-dye jeans.

Better than a letter never sent, or a smile with sad eyes

An expectant pleading with a hint of bright?

Oh what to do when the weather turns fair...

Never again to cry (cept out of fits of jolly joy)

Once again to stumble into love, or out just as quickly;

Of soft kisses stolen in the moonlight!

Let doom twist and fall? We can laugh with him in the plummet

Grasp his pinkey, then pull him up to play;

This is we, the stupid pair in stories held – the ones who chase life!

Smoke on Twilight Air - M.Weisgerber

Snow again.
How odd, as the deep summer moon shown down
brightly upon my lids as I drift'd off,
slipping into the gentleness of dreams.
Followed by bright skies.

Daylight shines.
I cannot see the soft emerald carpet,
entranced only by expanding gossamer
which slowly sifts all memory to white.
Feet soon to follow.

Unknown lore.
The latch catches upon the gate, sharp cry
causing shadows to darken, then expand;
nearest lamp light brightening to receive.
Last breath upon the last day.

Dying love.
I follow the dark road through the night sky,
a million little pinpoints guide my way,
endless faces that smile on either side.
Hands to greet and hold.

The end comes.
Quickly, punctual and dressed to the nines.
It silhouetted in blues, and I am
a little boy with a big grin, all eyes.
Eager for the next