secret life of the south

Superstitions tucked away,
In the creases of my palms,
Copper pennies
in my shoes
A flask of southern comfort,
stirred with sugar spoons
Spiked with a country time,
home-made, lemonade brew
Cigarette etiquette,
lucky twos,
beer bottle blues
Pocket change and good luck charms
Double dipped, candy flipped,
cocaine flakes numb my lips
Sugar coat me,
fill my heart,
keep me safe,
keep me warm
My keepsakes stowed away,
all my quirks, corked away
Packed my bags with my dreams,
and I’m busting at the seams
I’m just searching for the tracks,
got no ticket,
just my sack
Filled with hopes and desires,
glass half full for the ride
And I’m searching for the train
A railroad ride to numb me,
numb me from the pain
Won’t you cut my ball and chain?
Cause I’m searching for the train.
Everyone has a sad story, reasons to sing the blues
We all have our share of heartache
and wounds that can’t be glued
Would you like
to come away with me?
We’ll warm our hearts
with booze
and gospel
and good company
Decipher divine midnight maps
stitched in the heavenly constellations
Follow star-studded
twilight trails
to beautiful salvation
Wet our tongues with moonshine
and dance out
in the liquid drops
of summer sun
Stained glass eyes
and rose-colored frames,
our renaissance has just begun...






I hope one day, if I have I house, I’ll have a front porch:
The front porch will always be a sacred place for me.
There is nothing like spending a hazy summer afternoon
Settled in a warm whicker chair,
Wasting the hours away with friends
While sipping on piping hot coffee and vitamin water,
Chain-smoking cigarettes,
Exchanging stories
And anecdotes
And watching the scenery slowly change colors
As daylight wanes
And the sun finally dips beneath the treetops.
On the front porch, life is simple:
There are no obligations,
No duties or commitments;
On the contrary,
The living is easy,
Calming—almost anesthetic—
It’s just you and your kindred company,
Absorbed in the conversation and the gossip,
Indulging in your unhealthy
Yet quenching vices
And taking the time
To pause,
And relax.
You sit,
Immersed in the magic
And wonder if maybe the southerners are right
And that there is something to be learned from countryside living.







I hope one day, I’ll have someone to sit out on the porch with me.
Drinking vodka and lemonade and watching the fireflies light up the night.
And we’ll sway back and fourth together, in our rocking chairs.
And we’ll be in love.






I hope one day, I’ll have someone to fall asleep with
Every night.