Thursday, June 18, 2009

Kerosene

Some days it just don’t pay to awaken
some stubborn rainclouds just refuse to burst
some days it shames me, how much I’ve taken
how something in me still feels such a thirst

Can’t remember just exactly how it started,
just that smile that you often wore
we set out to sail seas uncharted
we left our worries on the shore

Just like a kid inside a candy store
amazed to see such things exist
I guess I thought that there’d be plenty more
let the coins slip from my fist

I wouldn’t say you keep me up nights
but your laughter haunts my sleep
we chased shooting stars and searchlights
and caught nothing we could keep

Although I can’t say why
I think of you now
much more often than I ever did;
as the years roll by
and the lines get deeper
I’m finding things I forgot I hid

I crossed my brides and I let ‘em fall
I just went on ahead
when they came around to pay a call
must’ve figured I was dead

Kept their letters in a shoebox that I’ve since lost
I tucked their photographs away
I didn’t think back then to count the cost
and what I had I gave away

Although I can’t explain
I think of them now
much more than I can justify;
as the years roll by
and the pages yellow
it takes a lot more now for me cry

Rumination never did me no good
I never thought myself too wise
I’d just forget it if I could
rub these visions out my eyes

Though the miles to them can be crossed
the distance seems to mock the thought
the time between us now is simply lost
and can’t be borrowed, stole or bought

although I can’t say why
I think of them now
much more often than I’d care to say;
as the years roll by
and the clouds get darker
there’s things I thought I threw away

Here I am, a bit surprised I guess
at all the candles on my cake
and there’s been a few nights now I will confess
when I just lie alone and shake

But the seasons flow like teardrops off a cheek
each day is one more hill to climb
now and then I feel I’ve sprung a leak
a little more and more each time

They were the best, they were the worst of me
and like a crocus through the snow
they came like ghosts of things about to be
why the weren’t I don’t know

Although I can’t explain
I think of them now
Much more often than I’d recommend
As the years roll by
And the moon gets paler
I’m finding postcards I forgot to send

This is the way it always goes
or so I’ve heard the old ones speak
two doors open for each one you close
you get what you gave up to seek

Late last night a cold northwester
blew in hard over the hills
so I knocked off half a bottle
but couldn’t rack up any kills

Although I can’t say why
you come to mind
much more often than I’d like you to;
as the years roll by
and the lights get dimmer
I feel further from the guy you knew.


[adding insult to injury: i actually mailed this to johnny cash in '97 or '98. never heard back. go figure.]

6 comments:

Julie said...

Chasing shooting stars and searchlights! Yes! Well, I love it. Johnny must have been drunk or something. Just kidding...I guess he was swamped. But I would have written you back to say how beautiful this is. It's beautifully haunting. Keep 'em rolling in, Joaquin. We're loving the ride.

Brosreview said...

This is beautiful, indeed! Keep them coming!!!

silly girl said...

"we set out to sail seas uncharted
we left our worries on the shore"

this i like... this i want...
u make it seem so easy, when in fact is so damn hard.
too bad for that Johnny Cash "experience".
his loss! :P

Aniket said...

My fav. part:

"This is the way it always goes
or so I’ve heard the old ones speak
two doors open for each one you close
you get what you gave up to seek"


Liked it a lot.

Johnny should have replied.... somehow. :P

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Oh, what a ballad! Boy, the pain and grief are so evident here - the perfect poem of lament.

They were the best, they were the worst of me
and like a crocus through the snow
they came like ghosts of things about to be

How very lingering these lines...I have written them down to memorize.

You are missed, dear Joaquin! But, glad you are posting these gems.

Jannie Funster said...

Joaquin, your writing is freaking genius!

Is it hard being you?

:)
xo