Prince

 

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“I am addicted to writing.” – Prince

When Doves Cry

Dig if U will the picture
Of U and I engaged in a kiss
The sweat of your body covers me

Can U my darling
Can U picture this?Dream if U can a courtyard
An ocean of violets in bloom
Animals strike curious poses
They feel the heat
The heat between me and UHow can U just leave me standing
Alone in a world that’s so cold? (So cold)
Maybe I’m just 2 demanding
Maybe I’m just like my father – 2 bold
Maybe U’re just like my mother
She’s never satisfied (She’s never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like when doves cryTouch if U will my stomach
Feel how it trembles inside
U’ve got the butterflies all tied up
Don’t make me chase U
Even doves have pride

How could U just leave me standing
Alone in a world so cold? (World so cold)
Maybe I’m just 2 demanding
Maybe I’m just like my father – 2 bold
Maybe U’re just like my mother
She’s never satisfied (She’s never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like when doves cry

How can U just leave me standing
Alone in a world that’s so cold? (A world that’s so cold)
Maybe I’m just 2 demanding (Maybe, maybe I’m like my father)
Maybe I’m just like my father – 2 bold (U know, U know he’s 2 bold)
Maybe U’re just like my mother (Maybe U’re just like my mother)
She’s never satisfied (She’s never, never satisfied)
Why do we scream at each other? (Why do we scream? Why?)
This is what it sounds like when doves cry
When doves cry (When doves cry) (When doves cry) {x2}
Don’t cry (Don’t cry)

Oh yeah {x6}
When doves cry {x3}
Babe! {x6}

When doves cry (Doves cry, doves cry, doves cry)
When?when?
Don’t cry
Darling, don’t cry
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t, don’t cry

1958-2016
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Anne Sexton

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(self portrait)

“Death’s a sad bone; bruised, you’d say,

and yet she waits for me, year after year, 

to so delicately undo an old wound, 

to empty my breath from its bad prison.

Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet, 

raging at the fruit a pumped-up moon, 

leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,

leaving the page of the book carelessly open, 

something unsaid, the phone off the hook 

and the love whatever it was, an infection.”

Eve Brandstein

Between Jacob & Benjamin

Between Jacob and Benjamin

In the kitchen in the middle of the night

between two bedrooms

my son sleeps in one, my father in the other

while my concern moves between

his limp & his lunch

his repetitions & his why

his criticism & his acceptance

his love & his love.

These two men eighty years apart

& me in the middle

between answers still asking questions

wanting to be understood & getting told what to do

telling my son its time to go & being told I shouldn’t by my father.

In the middle of the night in the kitchen

I peel an apple

watching 4 AM traffic 21 floors below Queens Boulevard

so far away from my home in California

& my birth in Eastern Europe

the end of his story

the beginning of his

worried awake by some haunting

or something I haven’t done

being in the middle of everything

the night

the passage

the place between these two men.

I eat the apple bit by bit

without a sound the traffic slips

into the middle of summer

I hear him stir & him snore

& watch the morning amber press against the cobalt

finally feeling the sleep I need

ready for surrender

I leave the last of skin and seeds

on the table in the kitchen

between parent & child.

– Eve Brandstein