These Awkward Tuesdays

My head is clouded
I can not see straight
I wrote it all down
Better never or late?

These awkward Tuesdays
have us looking at our feet
We want to look up
but we can´t take the heat

I jumped off the rocks
all I could do was sink
The ripples still crash
splashes gone in a blink

These awkward Tuesdays
are so full of truth
What was once bottled up
is now a cork through the roof

I knew you once before
all hazy in a dream
but the haze disappeared
once my own slate was clean

I wrote it all down
and threw it drunk on your bed
I wrote it sober again
and it´s still in my head

These awkward Tuesdays
have my butterflies doing flips
but it´s all better off late
before Never Wednesday slips

There were days with captured glances
the days I loved the most
And others with frozen bones
as if we´d seen a ghost

Keep on cooking your breads
while I stoke the fire
Your hands are feeling tougher
My eyes are getting tired

They close and open
The wind swept you away
La troja came crashing down
on all that´s left to say

These awkward Tuesdays
still let Wednesday in
It feels like an ending
while I´m ready to begin

Lucid Realities and Dreams

Thoughts roll in with the clouds
as we lay in our beds
slapping ourselves back into reality
with no-see-ums through mosquito nets
And the creaking floor above
is dusting my dreams
directing me always north
creating louder screams
These picture-walls come crashing down
a void on which to stand
and I fall with what I constructed
upward reaches with my hands
Voices flood in as violent waves
breaking bottles in my ears
papers shredded with smashed glass
messages written are now smeared
Expectations come apart
piece by piece by piece
rocks abound and landslides trigger
things begin and others cease
Keep talking up there and bring me back
or I´ll see you down below
where I can only guess at you
and make you what I know
This place is so much darker
where the clouds have fallen too
they´re not wetting my palette
they are limiting my view
Besides, this room is out of order
and the time is always wrong
always scared to open my eyes
and afraid that you´ll be gone
I never asked for this acupuncture
muscles relaxed and paralyzed
forming your tangible image
so far as I have analyzed
By peeking through the boards
and absorbing this structure´s shake
by enjoying clouds´obscurity
and accepting what´s at stake
What is to come in another realm
built on top of the past
First impressions can be photographs
but only if they last