Butterfly Love

Butterflies're not immune,
To the dorsal tube's call,
For the connection to another one,
That will answer it all.

It lives through its stages, like we all do,
Survival on its mind,
Making sense where no real thought is required,
Until a new kind of problem it finds,

The type that threatens all its done so far,
As a poor replacement,
To the width that it could have spread its wings,
If it knew what life meant,

If it had loved,
The way butterflies can,
When they discover the unknown fifth stage,
Which we naively cherish as human.

Les Misérables

Oh, to be Jean Valjean,
There're people at this time,
Imprisoned by this very soci'ty,
For trying to survive,

Dogged by the law once 'caught',
Never given a chance,
A Javert for every cop division,
Ready to strike with lance.

Will the poor, here, rise up against these laws,
That denies most freedom?
They have tried, and they might yet try again,
Bubbles in a cauldron.

So be ready,
Eyes wide for Enjorlas,
What is a life if it's denied its rights?
How many lashes 'til you're furious?

What You've Done

The snow now has fallen,
There is no turning back,
Once done, so many actions are just done,
You can only change tack,

And accept what's been done,
Accept it as a part of who you are,
Like your eyes, skin and nose,
And opinion of war.

You cannot pretend that it wasn't you,
Who did what you had done.
Well, you could but then you're pretending that,
You're an apparition,

That you're not real,
'Cause you only prove that,
By owning the effect you have on life,
For there exists no other kind of fact.

I'll Take It

"If life's an illusion,
I will take it", she said,
And though there isn't any other choice,
It's a nice sentiment.

For though the choices that we actu'lly have,
Only exist within this illusion,
Not wanting to change it,
Is an homage to your situation.

It plants the green grass squarely on your side,
Would that I could join you,
Feeling the blades between our perfect toes,
It's silly to be blue,

When you're alive!
The only other choice,
Is to wish the illusion would transform,
Which means there's a chance I could lose your voice!

Winter Warmth

It is almost here, now,
You see it in the sky,
Clouds plump with snow, the chill air nipping toes.
It's winter passing by!

This is what we waited for all the year,
As kids, aching to be,
Sealed tight in boots, mitts, toques, scarves and snow suit,
Warm and snug as we build, roll, throw and ski.

That is the experience we all share,
And the fire for the new.
You can't live in this Canadian land,
Wanting just summer dew.

You must love cold,
And love the warmth of it.
When all but your kin are frozen in ice,
You learn fast in life what you should covet.

Simple People

You will never know me,
The way that I know me,
Not that that either view's absolutely right,
But, you can ignore me.

So, when I tell you something about me,
There must be some value,
To the nuances that I recognize,
Regardless of how they might seem to you.

We'll agree to disagree on some things,
Outside of you or me,
But I'll not think to know you more than you,
And you do that for me.

'Cause I'm simple,
As I'm sure you are, too.
There's no need to pretend anything else.
Let's let simple people do as they do.

Time Off

Well, it's now the first day,
Of no work for a few,
And, of course, like any other day off,
There is a lot to do,

For as you do those things you need to do,
To make money to live,
Real life continues to move right along,
Demanding that you remain quite restive.

So you have two lives, one to live, one lived,
All to remain alive.
But, where are those moments exper'encing,
The experience of time?

They are nowhere,
Our world has stolen them,
To maintain the structure meant to protect,
Our right to live free of impediments.

Extending Life

What are you doing, now,
That you've recognized that,
Life is as fleeting as the thought of it,
Or the glimpse of a rat?

All your secrets are as enormous as,
The journal of a tick,
And the time you spend pretending they're not,
Doubles the time wasted you could have lived.

Then all you need is a drop of one thing,
To get the paradox,
That you can yet cram an eternity,
Into this tiny box,

All you need's love,
That's what the Beatles sung,
You can love in life, it can be for you.
There's nothing you can do that can't be done.

Rear-View Mirror

I've no rear- view mirror,
Some find that quite insane,
It was ripped off years ago by my son,
So I altered my brain.

Don't know what's happ'ning directly behind,
I look left, right and front,
Like bats who have no need of seeing eyes,
I get by with other information.

I imagine there's always someone there,
At my back needing care,
Like memories that made me who I am,
That I don't need to share.

So, if you want,
To drive along with me,
You'll have to learn to look forward, not back,
 I no longer have need for history.

Just Words

There is not much to say,
If you know where you're from.
If anything will be redundancy,
It's this repetition,

Unless you fill your words with irony,
Something you do so well,
And with such joy, it makes me love you more,
Until I've caught every thought you let fell.

But is it my mind, here,
We are talking about?
After all, the ultimate call is mine,
Of the things that you tout.

It's all just words,
Even what I say, here.
In the end, you have friends with whom you can,
Say what you want with abs'lutely no fear.

Arab Spring for Morrissey

Why is Egypt so mad,
About this Morrissey?
His last album was back in two-oh-nine,
And he's okay, to me.

Maybe not as much as in the eighties,
Those open-eyed years when he still sang with,
That band with such sweet angst,
Must I ev'n say out loud the name The Smiths?

The muslims might not like it when he said,
"Break up the family",
Or hurt when said, "You're repressed, but well dressed",
Those for democracy.

I only wish,
That they'll event'lly see,
It doesn't matter what's actually said.
Unite in the spirit of Morrissey.

It's Never Lost

The spirit inside you,
Won't actually die,
No matter how much you feel it's been snuffed,
You've just forgotten why,

You were able to find it, the first place,
Because you were yourself,
And if you can refind yourself, again,
You'll regain mental health.

First you must pretend your world's been erased,
Now try looking around,
The first things that your mind creates for you,
Are things to which you're bound.

Never lose those!
Among life's other things,
That grow fast, like grass, right under your nose,
Making steps forget the source of their spring.

Where Are You Going?

What is it that you see,
For the rest of your life,
The things that stay, and the things that will go,
Job, kids, int'rests and wife?

When you are born there's only potential,
Only species is locked,
While every moment hence, starts to define,
And leaves certain other avenues blocked,

Unless you'd like to defy all the norms,
Some have excelled at that,
And benefited universally,
Others have fallen flat.

Who is to know?
Only your heart can tell,
And it can only ask your mind to know,
If where you're going is acceptable.

Cold As Snow

The snow was falling down,
Upset by cold and wind,
Discarded by the clouds and atmosphere,
For it would not rescind,

Its gentle chill or silent way it works,
The way, in fact, it loves,
The way it's never the same way two times,
How it thinks it is a gift from above.

But I know snow's secret and how it melts,
With the slightest caress,
From bodies with blood, warm, pumping through them,
Like yours, in vintage dress.

That's why I'm cold,
Until my eyes catch yours,
I finally find my place among these flakes,
Meshing, like water, to welcoming pores.

To Shed It All

If your life is cluttered,
With the duties you own,
To work, to desires, to what others want,
The mortgage on your home,

If the sun rarely rises as you sit,
In comfort, with a tea,
Contemplating what you might do today,
With your unfettered possibilities,

If you can't say what you like anymore,
For it's too far away,
And the act of simply chasing it down,
Would take days upon days,

You're not alone,
It's those who don't, who are,
Blissfully living life without a care,
Expectations may as well be the stars.

Absence

Is there any value,
To leaving what you love,
With the intent of understanding more,
What for your heart's enough?

Is the nourishment of your heart's desire,
What life is all about,
Despite the circumstances you've since built?
It's surprising more people don't just shout,

To the skies, in the middle of the street,
For some kind of redo.
Everyone knows we have only one chance,
And yet we all just do,

As if we don't,
As if we'll last all time.
We all must realize we're in the same boat,
And understand there is no point to whine.

Tupperware

Have you ever thrown out,
An old Tupperware lid,
Only to find later on, on the shelf,
Is where the bottom hid?

But what could you possibly do by then,
But throw the bottom out?
For it was such a unique container,
There was a time it was something you'd tout.

And lo and behold, that lid comes back round,
Maybe you remembered,
The notion of throwing that lid away,
Not that you overturned,

That avenue.
Tupperware's elegant,
You can't interchange any part of it,
Unless you find its exact duplicate.

Successfully Lax

Is it dedication,
That's the mark of success?
Well yes, you can't make anything worthwile,
If you don't give your best.

But is there more to it than just hard work?
Well, you do have me there,
Sometimes someone works hard all their life,
And dies alone, thinking life is not fair.

Until the world ends, not every way,
To win's been exhausted,
To recant the claims of this very poem,
It's not as posited,

It's what it is,
Maybe just define it,
As living exactly as you'd like to,
Meaning, you just may not have to find it.

Midnight in Paris

It's not enough to say,
The past will never be,
That nostalgia robs you of the truth of,
Present reality,

For reflection happens in the moment,
Just like everything else,
Just like some have no memory at all,
And have no meaningful sense of the self.

Reliving emotions and what you thought,
In worlds far and gone by,
Is proof that the life you're living in now,
Must also surely die.

The past will never be?
Isn't that the real lie,
That any experience could fall short,
Simply for where in the brain it resides?

Obama's Speech

It has stayed in my mind,
Since that late Tuesday night,
When millions of people watched just one man,
Who had just won a fight,

To lead the world's most powerful state,
A claim he made loud,
A place where if you want to have success,
And want to work hard, then you are allowed,

A place that believes in freedom for all,
And the intrinsic right,
To have an equal opportunity,
Like everyone was white.

And then I cried,
Because he pointed out,
That though everyone has different viewpoints,
That's what the United States is about.

Little Comfort

What is more depressing,
That few understand life,
Or that of those, understanding won't help,
Them avoid angst or strife?

It's little comfort to know what you love,
When you're struck down daily,
By fists and ethics and economics,
When your faith that things will work out fail thee.

Perhaps it's better, as others have thought,
That ignorance is bliss,
A notion, sadly, only understood,
Once you've accepted this.

Though, I won't go,
Back, to try this again,
Life finishes fast, despite chosen paths,
And true rewards only come at the end.

Happy Birthday

Where did you find yourself,
When you took time to look?
Why, when you realized what you left behind,
How your ego was shook!

The youth you were, who thought you'd never live,
To the age you're at now,
Must be turning over in his casket,
Clawing to reach you and slap you somehow,

For you've forsaken him like those others,
You swore you'd never be.
Welcome to the cycle of human life,
Born of society.

Though they're others,
Who have broken the mold,
That they found themselves in as they grew up.
And decided they would never grow old.

My Short Story

My story has no end,
Just like yours doesn't, too.
But if that means we cannot be as one,
I would end it with you,

I would throw away the middle as well,
If we both got to start.
Who cares what's over the next horizon,
If you must walk on with a broken heart?

Alone, birth can be discarded as well,
Don't say I'd never know.
My first thought would be, "where's my other half?"
Then I'd just let life go.

That's your meaning,
Within this short story.
Not much to write when the scene isn't yours,
And that's what you will always mean for me.

True Expression

The kettle is hissing,
Over the radio,
A clock is ticking underneath it all,
The rats are munching low,

Outside the wind is rustling trees and leaves,
As my chair creaks softly,
There is a faint hum from the computer,
Another train passes by quietly,

There're footfalls upstairs as people wake,
I hear myself sighing,
Hot water moves through the radiators,
I continue lying,

To my own self,
That's the loudest of all.
Until I can scream the truth of my soul,
The silence of it is unbearable.

Job Action

The government's lauding,
The improvements it's made,
To education's ability to,
Increase students' grades,

But in these times of fiscal challenges,
Sacrifices must come,
Teachers must not receive any more cash,
Nor can they strike under legislation.

And on what ground can the teachers protest?
This is all for the kids.
If they believe in putting students first,
They'd be happy with this.

So, who is right,
Those claiming greater good,
Or the ones fighting for the worker's rights?
Again, money's made ethics' lines blurred.

Over Again

He sat down at the bar,
Minding his own business,
Seeking the solitude that others see,
As a sad loneliness.

He thinks of all the choices in his life,
That led him to this point,
He's lost in thought so much, he doesn't see,
The tall and shaggy man enter the joint.

The man sits beside him, orders a drink,
And asks a hard question:
"Will you trade all you've accomplished so far,
To try life all again?"

But what a choice!
Life's hard 'nough already.
He takes a sip and thanks god for the taste,
And says, "the trying never ends for me."

Of The Two Roads Diverged

Somewhere along the way,
In more places than one,
You will find yourself stuck between two worlds,
With neither moon nor sun,

In a place where your body floats with ease,
Though you are not dreaming,
A purgatory in your waking life,
Where your daily objects have no meaning,

For of the roads diverged in yellow wood,
You chose not new or old,
But ventured instead into the darkness,
Intending to be bold,

Which is your right,
And others have done like,
But 'less you stumble on another path,
You'll never emerge from this lonely plight.

To Embrace Eternity

Life's very, very long,
You don't need proof of that,
Each moment is filled with doubt, and each day,
Is a moment-filled vat.

Now, your moments may be as clear as day,
But is that really life?
No questioning of the paths you can take,
Believing in knowledge of wrong and right.

One must tread the line of propriety,
Keeping others' freedom,
Remembering not to deny your own,
In every decision.

No easy task,
Especially in love,
When my hand holds yours in a world of doubt,
I'll never be able to get enough.

The Story of Love

Things never really end,
Until death do you part,
As long as there is one mind in this world,
That's invested its heart.

That is the true nature of history,
It truly won't exist,
Without those who hold onto memories,
And so it never ends because of this.

So what will become of the love we share,
After we both are gone,
The bond of our souls nowhere to be found,
By new generations?

All will be lost,
And what a shame for those,
Who need the lessons of a connection,
That tells its story in every new rose.

To Speak From The Heart

Nature does not edit,
The things she wants to say,
For no one expects her to compromise,
Or keep her heart at bay,

For what havoc would there be if she lied,
Rained when snow`s on her mind?
Like my spirit, when I deny my love,
The world's nat'ral rhythm is compromised,

Ocean's rise up, and wash away whole shores,
Like I would crush my soul,
Science would be crippled and meaningless,
Like I would have no goal,

And so I say,
What my body tells me,
For I deny my right to depth and light,
If I don't use this life for honesty.

As I Write

You may think that I'm not,
As happy as could be,
Because the things I write basically say,
Life is a tragedy,

Though, as I write those words my mind is free,
From guilt of impure thoughts,
The joy of expression's enough to thwart,
The imperfections with which life is fraught.

If this is a notion you can't compute,
And fear all that I write,
Seeing yourself in my attempt to solve,
What is wrong and what's right,

Then I can't help,
Nor can I ever cease,
Or I'd deny myself a great pleasure,
Something Hume said you should never let be.

Shaky Foundation

Condo market's falling,
Next coming is our jobs,
Then the banks will want everything back,
We've pretended was ours,

Like my daughter pretends she's a grocer,
Well, she might have to be.
Course, it's hard to get a job in this world,
When you're living on the streets, and you're three.

The thought of everything disappearing,
Should not be something real,
It's just helpful as a thought exercise,
To understand the deal,

Of existence.
Soci'ty's meant to be,
A safeguard against an uncertain world,
Not the source of all your anxiety.

End Page

How do you slow down time?
Do you really want to?
Sometimes I wish I could jump to old age,
Past all of life's ado,

Past all of the struggles and the obstacles,
To getting to know you,
Epiphanies of what I didn't know,
Thinking love couldn't teach anything new,

Slip slyly into the age of wisdom,
Where fantasy becomes,
No longer something to look forward to,
Instead, retrospection.

Will you be there,
In fantasy and life?
The former, for sure, forever and more,
Only old age will tell of future strife.

No Matter With You

There's something to be said,
About staying the way,
A risk for sure, but no more of a bet,
Than living day by day,

And not having a plan to guide your way,
Understanding life's not,
A condition you can prognosticate,
Leaping with faith towards what you have sought.

Either way you'll come across surprises,
For god laughs at your plans,
Though when it comes to the love that we share,
We will have the last laugh.

For we don't care,
Whether carried or dragged,
To the spot of our ultimate demise,
If we're one when we zig when we should zag.

A Homecoming

He sits up late downstairs,
She's upstairs feeling down,
Both thinking there's no syncing of their lives,
Like when their love was found,

The news of the world makes sure that they feel,
That they have it so good,
A middle class without the fear of rape,
Building a life like every neighbour should,

Helping to change the focus from one's life,
To wishing for world peace,
Resting in the hands of our governments,
Who have different needs,

"And what are they?",
He thinks, sitting alone.
There's little time to think about these things,
Maintaining the stability of home.

Freedom's Irony

What must you be thinking,
To think others are wrong,
About the nature of the universe,
And how to get along,

In a way that you're at peace with yourself?
First you have to believe,
In the existence of everyone else,
And thus their intrinsic right to be free.

Then, if you don't stop your belief right there,
And want others to think,
That how you act should be the same for all,
The cosmos will now shrink,

Back to just you,
With freedom for no one,
Because you actually have the eyes of God,
Which is a legitimate opinion.

Upon the Ship

The sheets were adjusted,
The jib pulled, at last, taut,
And though the engine would never silence,
The sails still calmed my thoughts.

The air, no matter how cold, enlightens,
Wind masks life's needless noise,
Like thoughts sharing the things their bodies do,
As if there's a link between mind and voice.

I walk the deck, I'm completely alone,
Death is a leap away,
Triumph is in the physics of the boat,
My life, now clear as day.

The ocean's you,
Wherever you might be,
Not the ship, yet the definer of it,
Not me, yet holder of my destiny.

What Separates Humans

What separates humans,
From animals and plants,
Is not our ability to reason,
That's not a proven fact,

Our thumbs are cool and they help us to build,
Though ants build cathedrals,
Proportionately higher than any,
Building built since we were Neanderthals,

And love's ethereal and can't be read,
I can't even say if,
The gifts and affection you pour on me,
Are a product of this.

So here it is,
What makes humans unique:
We like to kill things for the fun of it,
An act of the insecure and the weak.

Life's Fantasy

Don't live in the moment,
You'll only lose your self,
All reference to everything that you know,
And all you've ever felt.

Don't make goals and then live to achieve them,
They're never what you thought,
Your eyes focus on false apparitions,
And you get browner grass for all you've fought.

Don't let society tell you what's right,
It's not thinking of you,
You're too small to be of any concern,
'less you have adverse views.

Life's fantasy,
That's always happening,
No ends with which to compare your vision,
Each moment ripe with what you know's coming.

Vocational Tragedy

There is a door inside,
That has been found by some,
Who have chosen to keep it wide open,
To escape delusion,

They've never had to question who they are,
Their mojo just flows out,
Envied by those who have never been told,
That finding that door erases all doubt.

What a metaphysical tragedy!
Souls kept behind a wall,
Their bodies 'living' with no connection,
To their true potential.

But there yet is,
Someone holding the key,
If they're willing to take a leap of faith,
Who can still lead them to their liberty.

The Path Taken

When's the point in your life,
You made a decision,
And from that moment, what lay before you,
Felt like a revision,

To the world you were building for yourself,
Borne on the dreams of youth?
Sometimes I think the myth of adulthood,
Was invented to control the uncouth,

By some bureaucractic downer-machine,
With some misguided goal,
Of eliminating all real comment,
On the purpose of soul,

Which is to love,
Whatever it can find,
No more of this procreation bullshit,
Or jobs that take up all your working time.

Capitalism and Prohibition

Some say the war on drugs,
Has nothing to do with health,
That if you look at prohibition's past,
It's about keeping wealth,

Where it belongs, by keeping people down,
Whichever pose a threat,
The blacks, the Mexicans or working class,
Anyone who might demand fair treatment.

And this is proven by the cost of it.
Who else could pay to jail,
The thousands of casual weed smokers,
Who can't quite afford bail?

It's the elite,
Snorting coke to feel free,
Safely locked in their own gilded prison,
A working class for the dreams of money.

Manufactured Expectations

As Kipper and his friend,
Face ghouls of dark woods,
My child, living in that world and this one,
Me, not doing what would,

Place me in yet another world, not here,
Lying on kitchen floors,
Anxious for being unsought, childishly,
Instantly questioning what it's all for.

But that is all part of the adventure,
The risk of being you,
Tools don't have problems of identity,
Defined by what they do.

Not what they want,
One day can do so much.
It shows you how fast you can be alone.
How far away things seem without your touch.

Investigative Poetry

Can this age really be,
One in which poetry,
Helps lead the way to social consciousness?
A possibility.

What is it, but a new way to express,
With the words that we all use everyday,
Arranged to open minds,
To show that our language keeps us at bay?

Ezra Pound and Alexandr Pushkin,
Both part of a movement,
With poets from every generation,
Blake, Ginsberg and Olson.

Something must break,
The world's need can be felt,
For a way to express what we know's wrong,
As our people starve and our icebergs melt.

We Are In Chains

People are not thinking,
Of their own welfare,
At least, not in any meaningful way.
They've been trained not to dare,

By a government that wants to control,
That's controlled by money,
That has a mind of its own. Don't you know,
The writings of Deleuze and Guattari?

And really, what kind of time do you have?
Both our school and work life,
Are structured to complete specific tasks,
Not think of human rights.

But if just one,
Person can shed the light,
In such a way that it is obvious,
Do not go gentle into that good night!

To Russia With Love

When I think about you,
My emotions are mixed,
The struggles you face seem to eclipse mine,
Yet, your culture's so rich,

Many days I spent with Dostoyevsky,
His words still touch my life,
I almost fought a Russian diplomat,
Flicking his nose at a party one night.

Like everyone, I'm sure you just exist,
Despite the state's actions,
Though knowing the acts of your president,
You must feel oppression.

So there it is,
You have been watching me,
Though I don't know what it is you're thinking,
And I am filled with curiosity.

Perspective

Perspective's a good thing,
To know where you're going,
And also how to get back when you're done,
If you want, (wink knowing),

Because the only way to understand,
This world where you find you,
Is to explore outside the boundaries,
In which you've found yourself accustomed to,

So, go ahead and scream a thousand 'no's,
Amidst colleagues and friends,
They'll probably try to save you from you,
But laud you in the end,

For bravery,
Against reality,
Not the one that offers infinite choice,
But the one given by society.

Impossible Escape

Let's take a vacation,

Don't matter where we go,

Somewhere with no responsibilities,

And there's no one we know,

Where I can see you in your bathing suit,

Relaxing in the sun,

I'll lie beside you and read you a book.

Should I tone down my imagination?

Somehow the world won't know where we are,

It will be iced-over.

Until we've spent a lifetime together,

Though we won't get older.

That's what I call,
A real life get-away.
What good is escaping reality,
If you carry it with you, anyway?

Passing the Torch

Many of my friends are,
Parents of my kid's friends,
From many backgrounds, political views,
And life intentions,

With no connection to my own desires,
Or dreams of my youth.
I don't exist as a person, no more.
My art projects are of no further use.

All focus is on my children's future,
On the art that they make,
Being careful not to impose my yen,
And the way I create.

I don't exist,
That is the choice I made.
When I brought these lives into their own world,
As their light grows, my own will surely fade.

Spanning the Gap

What's it mean to connect?
You think spanning the gap,
Twixt what you think and what you think I think,
Is scientific fact.

And in a way you can be sure you've synced,
Your thoughts with another,
Having blind faith in the feelings you hold,
Knowing science can't give you an answer,

A fact you cannot let your heart perceive,
Many other things, too,
Like the fact evolution's a theory,
Or truth in right-wing views.

One thing I know,
I can hear what you say,
And the way you put your words together,
Makes me want to speak with you everyday.

Mom

The first time it happened,
Seemed like all or nothing,
That insidious nexus of our lives,
Through us too was spreading.

Is it the same the second time around?
My love is no less strong,
Your life is no less precious than before,
I'm sure the ordeal will take just as long,

There are more lives out there that share your blood,
And those who might still come,
Who can't conceive of you not being there,
With that optimism,

That saved your life,
With the power of thought.
Perhaps this is an opportunity,
To reteach the lessons that you once taught.

The Book of Truth

There is nothing left, now,
That can be taken back.
This is true of all moments that you've lived,
In case you've missed this fact.

And this is true of each moment that's past,
Since you read the words that you have just read,
Oops, there goes one more now,
That will be unchanged until you are dead.

And yet each moment on the horizon,
Is wholly undefined,
You could be snatched by an alien ship,
Like in The Life of Brian.

So, what to do,
Bookmarked by such contrast?
There is no book that provides true guidance,
So treat each moment as if it's your last.

Let Me Reach You

Let me reach out to you,

Despite the obstacles,

There're no two people in this whole damn world,

Not held back by shackles.

Some gladly fastened by themselves, no doubt,

We're all born knowing naught,

But those just reinforce the other chains,

We're hardly born before we're quickly caught.

Let me show you a little trick I learned,

The farm is a good guide,

Plants are held fast to the earth by their roots,

Still they spread to the sky.

Until they're free,
Their trammels now supports.
What does it matter to be in irons,
When there is nothing you can't grow towards?

Get Me Out Of Here

The earth has conspired,
To eternally bond,
Souls not meant to be together that long,
To stunt evolution,

Despite all the things we're raping on it,
The trees, lakes, air and all,
It still does not want this marriage to fail,
To feel our love, despite the aerosol,

It would suffer eons of sick neglect,
For a nugget of proof,
That through the haze of greed and selfishness,
There are a caring few,

And so we trudge,
Undermining progress,
Not able to leave this selfish planet,
So that it's free of cosmic loneliness.

Ode to the Rain

What did the rain promise,
When it first suffused soil,
Triggering the life we all now enjoy,
Causing our souls to roil,

By the turbulence of the other things,
Sprung from the life it gives?
Does it take no responsibility,
For the aftermath of its recklessness?

Like war, famine and even drought, itself,
And questions of what's right.
Rain should have thought of love and consequence,
Before it married light.

We're like the rain,
We just fell into this,
Trying to understand our origins,
Finding the easiest path to our bliss.

The Trip

The grass is not greener,
Everybody knows that,
You're the same person over here or there,
You act the way you act.

And though there's value in finding that out,
Once is probably enough,
More than that and you're being ignorant,
And disrespectful to the ones you love.

But people don't talk much about the trip.
Now that's interesting.
If I could spend my life leaping the fence,
I'd truly be learning,

About myself,
And so, about you, too,
Until both sides are brown and withering,
Leaping back and forth, hand-in-hand with you.

Wait

The sound of the TV,
Learn about inclined planes,
How heavy weights can be mitigated,
Machines and words, the same,

Try stretching out all thoughts and expressions,
The terseness last night did little to lift,
Darkness into the light,
Real connection so much more than what-ifs.

Dropping, so much easier than holding,
Though after such effort,
To lose everything you've worked hard to get,
And now you can't get more.

What's it all for,
If not to pick up weights,
And figure out how to keep on moving?
Most think of this after it's far too late.

Within It

Fear cannot continue,
Its choices are all flawed,
Organizing the offers before you,
So one was all you saw,

And time's been no help, refusing to stop,
Watching dreams up and die,
Perspective blinding you from all the joys,
Screaming out to embrace you all the time.

If you have to smash something to be free,
By god, smash all you see,
The truth you've lived by kind of falls short of,
Believability.

It's not too late.
Just watch one good movie,
Walk through the holes you made with that hammer,
And leave it open for the world to see.

Wandering the Night

Sometimes life can stand still,
Anticipating the,
Reaction of another soul in it,
Juggling reality.

As the bath water grows cold around you,
Mouths waiting to be fed,
I walk lonely through the streets of New York,
Thinking again on what the psychic said,

Wanting to just keep some semblance of it,
Knowing it's all or none,
But if she didn't have some ESP,
Why the same prediction,

As the others?
It's not about the words,
It's just the chance for a new perspective,
And something else to talk about with her.

A Wath

This is the first of lots, (6)
Though many have gone by, (6)
There is a subtlety to what I've done, (10)
Both in timing and rhyme. (6)

Some will say that structure is important, (10)
I don't argue with that, (6)
There has to be some boundaries in place, (10)
To step outside and then to reflect back. (10)

And that is just what I have to do now, (10)
To understand this life, (6)
And the things that I do so easily, (10)
That still don't relieve strife. (6)

So, here we go, (4)
A new trip, late in age, (6)
In an attempt to communicate more, (10)
Before lack of reflection turns to rage. (10)

The Value Of It All

Everyday is different,
And each moment within that,
It's amazing there is time to remember,
That there are certain acts,

Which elicit the most valued reaction,
From the ones you love.
It demands that you forget everything,
And simply rise above,

Any consideration for yourself,
Or, at least, the one who thinks,
That there is more to life than connection.
He's forgotten the most valued thing.

Depth is had by forgetting,
Yourself amidst your desire to know,
If there are thoughts outside of yourself,
That are identical.

Memories

Some things will never,
Be quite the same,
After being part of,
Your most memorable days,

Like the park where you first rode,
Your two-wheel bike,
The dark, big-buttoned skirt,
Of that girl you like,

The look on your mom's face,
The first time she told you the news.
Good, dire and those things,
That will forever imbue,

Your perspective on things,
Like what you're capable of,
If given total freedom,
And unconditional love.

Loving

Listen to the things you love,
And be with the ones you love, too,
For everything that makes you smile,
Is just a modicum of you,

And look around for smiles,
From others experiencing the same thing,
Then stick with them and find out what,
Gets them smiling,

And share with them, too,
And create with them,
You`ll never have to sleep,
If you stick with this regimen,

You'll want to stay awake,
Experiencing and sharing,
And making more things in the world.
That's your heart answering.

Home

Home is miles away,
And, yet, just around the bend,
You're already lying down, safe and sound,
Because you live in your mind,

And not your heart,
That's not where it is,
Home's not where you hang your hat,
Or find domestic bliss,

It's where you're going each moment,
A sliver-width's from your hand,
Even pushing open the door,
You're not quite human,

If you think you are home,
Why would you ever want to be?
What good is living in this world,
Without that nascent mystery?

Light Fine

Let me be ambiguous,
With no fear of reprimand,
With faith that all is understood,
Despite the ambiguity of this demand.

The less sense that I'm making,
You can be absolutely sure,
If there is anything between us,
You will need not inure,

Because here is the seduction,
Of ambiguity,
That should the meaning not be lost,
You transcend reality.

Or make a fool of yourself,
That is a risk, too,
But one I'm willing to take,
To understand you.

Not Mad To Not Have Known

The desire to keep secrets,
Is not foreign to anyone,
And certainly to save the burden on others,
Is an explanation,

Like the breakwater that saves the shore,
The silence under the glassy film,
Is peacefully detached from the chaotic surf,
Trying to get through, still.

Of course that life as an incluse,
Is better chosen than put upon,
One may wish to swim in ever-changing waves,
Than in the stench of stagnation,

Or not.
It's not all on the ones who don't tell.
One looks at life as open or closed,
And that affects what others tell you, as well.

A Conversation With Someone Dear

I can't believe that I never told you my story,
As we sat down together,
You, so sincere, told me so little,
That I could consider,

Anything that could be close to the truth,
Except in the depths of your heart,
Brought up to think a certain way,
From which you'll never depart.

But whether your ignorance or my bigoted ways,
Painted my opinion of your tragedy,
I should have given you the benefit of the doubt,
Because you are very dear to me,

But it's only now,
After the opportunity's been missed,
That I have thoughts of how we could have connected,
Which, then, were completely dismissed.

Understanding

This mountain's not a molehill,
It's not even there,
Just like when you said we would rule the world,
And we didn't go anywhere,

Because we never do,
That's not how this world works.
Not the truth, the vows or even love;
It's the search.

So, we explore through each other,
Our tools, each others' mood,
Testing mountain, car and bed,
Until it's all understood,

Which we would never want,
That would destroy all the fun,
As long as we're on an adventure,
We still feel like someone.

The Flip Flop

Everyone needs something,
That defines the who,
Of what they are behind what is seen,
And what they really do,

Because mostly everything,
That occupies your time,
Is fixated on maintaining,
The structure of your life.

That is the root of morality,
If you want to be good,
Don't act to threaten,
This world.

Or your own,
For others will say,
"Did she not understand,
That we all liked it that way?"

The Moth

I just killed a moth,
It represented to me,
All the moths in this goddam house,
Putting holes in my things,

It drives me completely bonkers,
That it's such a distress,
To begrudge a thing so small and soft,
Its right to existence,

Then I drop it in the toilet,
With other forms of waste,
Then wash my hands of what is left.
Am I not a big disgrace?

But before you razz me out,
For this disregard for life,
Ask me the value I put on,
My own supposed rights.

Mud Pancake

Well, I was walking down the street,
And I was looking for a treat,
I looked down, and what did I see,
Right there at my feet?

No, it was not a toad, like you think,
Or even a fox or a mink,
I'll tell you soon, if you can wait,
With a nudge and a wink.

It wasn't something that I shouldn't eat,
Or someone that I shouldn't meet,
Those things only lead to messy feats,
It was nothing that moos, barks or bleats.

You probably guessed by now,
I know your tummy must have started to ache,
I bent down and had a fantastic taste,
Of a yummy mud pancake.

Remember Your Car

You know when you are looking,
For the place you parked your car?
It all depends on your ability,
To think not very far,

And yet, it often happens that you miss,
That very simple act,
Of remembering where you are when you leave,
To find your way back.

This has nothing to do,
With what you do to me,
Instead, it's about parking,
And responsibility.

The car is always there,
Even if you don't think of it when it's not,
It's waiting patiently,
Somewhere in the parking lot.

Not Definitely Not

When you're given advice,
Don't take it right away,
No matter if it's only for the next moment,
Or the rest of your days,

For nothing you do should be at the whim,
Of a being outside yourself,
They may provide a new perspective,
But only care for their own health.

Now there's value to experiment,
And, in your mind, follow their direction,
But if your body tells you they are wrong,
Then your body takes precedent.

You were never meant,
To live as you think you ought'nt,
Feelings are meant to guide your way,
And they should never be forgotten.

Ode to the Night

It is only with you,
That I truly can come out,
The darkness hiding what I abhor,
My surroundings all in doubt,

That's why the world loves you so,
You shine the darkness on everything,
You enter rooms as if they were yours,
And then you actually sing!

And sparks of surprise escape your lips,
Stories of the famous screaming you down,
And there's always another story behind,
People think will never be found.

And yet it is,
You're much more simple than you seem,
To unlock your true self,
You just ask for honesty.

Ode to Driver Ants

They go out as a unit,
Like a fog over the land,
Killers, takers and mechanics,
Raping for the good of their clan,

There is no doubt in any one heart,
If a heart they do indeed possess,
No thoughts of how the world might otherwise be,
No hesitation or laziness.

This is the ideal for which we all strive,
For person and society,
Thinking, "Why can't everyone just act,
So as to accommodate me?"

For do not forget,
That the observer of this perfection,
Observes only due to his many flaws,
Such as chronic self-occupation.

Ode to the Ape

The way that the ape,
Sees red before its eyes,
Joins with its friends and chases a monkey,
And begins to pulvarize,

In a way, that speaks more,
To its desire for blood,
Than to a need for meat,
Or any progress forward,

So too are my eyes,
My spigot's released,
A reaction to the clash,
Between desire and need.

Is that what they're doing,
Having an existential feast,
A primordial expression of the bond,
Between human and beast?

The Trojan Horse

It will never happen,
Your mind will ensure that,
Assuming its strength can overcome,
All that your desire's lusting at.

And so you must have some kind of belief,
And forget the fact that,
There is no foundation upon which it is built,
Except for the thoughts under your hat,

And when you face the inevitable,
Immediate temptation-attack,
That's when you bring out your mantra,
Designed to counteract:

"Despite where I am now,
It's not the real world I am at.
If I escape and be true to that,
All my treasures will remain intact."

Nirvana

I could listen to you,
Again and again,
Your simple message of embracing pain,
Puts me in a state of zen.

You came to me as if it was meant to be,
And I embraced you as if that was the case,
A slice out of time that didn't exist,
Not in a malicious way.

The sun was gone,
And you had a light,
We didn't really have that far to go,
But it felt like hours we drove that night,

And for what?
For a lifetime of memories,
Though not exactly what was fantasized,
Still an alternative reality.

If I Was Jackie Stallone

If I was Jackie Stallone,
Wouldn't it be nice?
Money, love and celebrity,
And past all the pains in my life,

The eyes that look out from that famous face,
Must have surely seen a lot,
Have even felt the pressures of decisions,
That wrenched at her gut,

Those ears, no matter where they're ultimately placed,
Have heard things, she'd have rather have trimmed,
As easily as the scalpel already has,
So many of her unwanted things.

And when it comes to her mind,
Like anybody I've ever known,
No one's safe from the knife of reality,
Not even Jackie Stallone.

The Bed

A flower can't be anything,
But the flower, it is,
Though I've seen many strange things,
In this universe,

Like plums growing from peaches,
And limbs where none should be,
Why should we expect anything different,
From society?

The mores that we know today,
They, too, have changed in time,
And every new generation will believe,
That they are an improvement from mine.

So why wait?
Change can happen now,
And we can benefit from doing,
What we want, anyhow.

Building Worlds

Despite all the chaos,
Each and everyone one of us,
Experience each and every moment,
In this existence,

Somehow we connect with each other,
Like two satellites passing in space,
With sudden relative meaning,
Unfolding into our everydays,

We look into each others' eyes,
And we know that if those things around,
Are as random as our hearts know,
Then we may as well never been found.

So we continue to build,
With every last stretch of our energy,
So as not to lose each other,
Some logic to reality.

Train Ride

It is a different kind of world,
Viewed from a train,
Nature is a continuous flow,
Periodically whistling again,

And buildings are mostly sad,
Probably from being pulled by our wind,
Continuously seeing the road to escape,
Knowing it will never be let in.

The sun doesn't move, though,
It's the only reminder you can't run,
There is no shelter, except from fast, opposing trains,
From its light shining on what you've done.

And then there is your place,
Among those on the train with you,
Each seeing their own world,
All of you separating, soon.

Why To Stop

You can't force something to happen.
In fact, if you do, it's not what you want,
What you imagine could be so great,
Needs to be wanted by everyone,

Love must grow like flowers,
Coaxed from the ground with light,
Pulling will only pull out the roots that must,
Be strong to give the flower's flight.

Support must be built like a brick wall,
Laid on a foundation that will not shake,
Rushing in with the trowel and mortar,
And it will all topple over by the weight.

And your need to make things happen,
Despite the soil or conditions,
Risks your loneliness and disappointment,
While you miss other options.

Floating

What do you think about,
Floating all alone,
With water as far as you can see,
No responsibilities to home?

Is your mind filled with how much,
You love where you are,
Or how you'd love to just be swallowed up?
Am I close, so far?

Maybe the solitude makes you think,
Of all the things you could have been and done.
If you could, would you just keep on swimming,
To a new destination?

There's only one place to go,
When you're given the opportunity,
To face the abyss of what-ifs:
Back to reality.

Campfire Rain

More of the air is water, than not,
Until the ceiling comes down,
And what is left unabsorbed,
Will come back up around,

There is no light by which to see the stars,
It has been snuffed out by the clouds,
Like how you throw me into doubt,
Whenever I try to come back around,

Not even my fire that I put under,
An umbrella, in case this rain stops,
Looks like it will last moments more.
Once again, I've given it my best shot.

Though, it's not out yet,
And you haven't said no,
And since the clouds can't cry forever,
I will never let my hopes go.

Campfire Blues

The dying minutes of a fire,
Its flames still untouchable,
Embers lying in wait after they are gone,
Still very much combustible,

Like my triggers that you know so well,
And the passion in my heart,
Hot for being left to consume the world,
Ready, like those embers are.

Are they ever really snuffed,
Even after water reduces them to smoke?
Once so proud and righteous,
It can never die, I hope.

It lives on, I think,
Each time a flame ignites,
Every structure it topples,
Reminds me of its might.

Dung Hill

What is the value,
In veiling in sounds,
That represent other ones,
And only come around,

To the thoughts that you really want,
To get across to another?
Oh, if but the slip of cloud in that blue, blue sky,
Was more than just a sliver.

Had it broke forth spontaneously,
And the mountains came crashing down,
Should the world have unfolded as Mother Nature had deemed,
As its oracles speak it now,

Then it would all be saved,
The wave as it was meant to crash,
And disperse the wonder of what there is,
For the awe of what should never last.

Your Decision

Why don't the questions,
Most pressing at our minds,
Like, 'Why are things the way they are?',
Occupy us all the time?

Could it be we are not actually born,
Into this world in which we find ourselves,
This city, family and laws of the land,
This love you must leave on the shelf,

But that we start building as soon as we see,
And bend the world to our will,
Each person's reality hidden from the other,
No matter the leader at the wheel?

It's all irrelevant, I know,
Though, important to ask,
If only to recognize that ultimately,
You can only take yourself to task.

The Shell

This nut must be cracked,
Whose shell is encompassing us,
Blocking out everything that we could be,
And our natural curiousness,

This invisible barrier,
Cloaked in promise of change,
To become what it never will,
And what it openly disdains.

Each and every one of us,
Secretly wishes for the same thing,
Afraid to admit it openly,
The nut meat, so tasty.

What will it take?
What's the route to self-fulfillment?
Maybe I could start doing what I want,
And stop writing about it.

League of Nations

There is a security council,
That represents all nations,
On which there are a few countries,
That can block any resolution,

And of these countries the range of opinion,
Spans from one end to the other,
Which begs the question, "what can get done,
Of any true bother?"

Which would be the point, you don't want,
Any extreme decisions to be made,
In a world where every society,
Has learned how to maintain their slaves,

While pretending they're not there.
Everyone does it.
And everyone else tries to pretend they're not.
Insidious, isn't it?

Intervention

It's not the specific invasion,
That he has a problem with,
Though you can't speak in terms of anything else,
Or we'd all be in bliss,

But it's the notion that the world can watch,
As the infiltration begins,
OnE country walking in and proclaiming,
Justice's win,

When what has happened, is a society,
Which is not a person,
Has interfered with another society,
Made up of persons.

So who is right?
No one has the key to morality,
But not doing's as much of a move,
As mobilizing your military.

Consider This

When you've done something for so long,
That it's part of who you are,
Like morning dumps or random loves,
Or sitting alone in bars,

Changing those things seem threatening,
Not just to yourself, but those you know,
You question the fabric of reality itself,
Stepping out of your comfort zone,

So, as you sit there, on stool or throne,
Loving or wishing you were,
Comfortable and comforting and faithful,
Just make sure you're sure,

That that's all there is,
And for all I know, you're right,
Life may not be worth risking,
Just for the possibilities of one night.

Freedom

So, you talk with your dollar,
Whether you have it or not,
Either with trends of purchasing,
Or where you hold your debt,

And since this is a democracy,
Your voice alone means nothing,
Countless others need to say the same,
For your habits to be worth anything,

Habits which are born of this world,
Into which you were born,
Which, if left free, would be completely different,
And something you would die for,

Try to be different,
Live as your instinct tells you,
You'll find that freedom only exists,
When you're doing what you're supposed to.

Born To Coexist

Your righteousness is natural,
Instinctive and intense,
From the moment that you were born,
You've never been known to relent,

But where does such an instinct come from,
When what's right seems to be,
Born of humans deciding,
To live in community?

Could it be that we were always meant,
To look out for each other?
I know I have no fear of you,
Not defending me or your mother.

You may be evolved,
Made for a world like this,
Where we are losing grasp,
On what society is.

True Living

You must not take it slowly,
Though, you must not take it fast,
Both speeds show you're thinking too much,
And that none of your moments last,

Because you're always trying to grasp,
The one coming, or the one past,
Forever living in a different time,
Never understanding the task,

Which is to truly live,
To know if you like the life you're in.
God, I could spend an eternity with you,
If it was always this moment,

But it can't be,
Can it?
Our time is not our own,
Damn it.

Surrender

If you have an obsession,
It's best to pursue,
Because it will always be what it's not,
Until you do,

And then you can consume it into yourself,
And make it what you want it to be.
Think of the satisfaction of owning it,
And the ecstasy.

So what is stopping you,
From finding out what it really is?
Are you afraid that your life will change,
From its usualness?

There are other forces,
That advise against it, I know,
Forces that will never be in your mind,
As far as understanding goes.

Almost Did It

Everything you ever wanted,
Were possibilities,
Unrealized if you didn't risk,
The complexities,

That those achievements would have added,
To the structure of your life.
Well, not complexities, exactly,
But you'd have to reorganize,

How you moved, because the world,
Would expect different things from you,
And you could do it, knowing you had realized,
The possibilities you wanted to.

Even if you were shunned,
By those who used to claim they love,
Because not everyone can be happy,
When you aim above.

Hunger

May you never feel,
The pangs of hunger like me,
For which I've sold all that I've held dear,
Leaving me, still hungry,

Not even 'friends', whom I've helped in the past,
Are any good to me,
For they judge, and also recognize,
Their potential destiny,

And if it was okay,
To let my desires overtake,
I would simply take what I need,
But here, your living you must make,

It's all unnatural,
This disconnect with your heart,
Everyone hungers, and are denied,
Unless they do their part.

The You

Get up in the morning,
The sounds of nature can be heard,
Among the rumbling of the cars driving by,
Trains, yells, fridges and birds,

And the sound of your own being,
Your thoughts, heart and form,
Existing outside of all of those things,
Into which you were born,

Like the structure of the agreement,
That the humans around you made,
Work for life and live to have,
Some time left after you're paid.

It seems so narrow,
The life you're allowed to live,
And still be lauded by society.
What happened to one's prerogative?

The Balance

No matter how you balance,
You're always on the edge,
Life is a constant fight to not fall down,
While looking over the ledge,

While the desire to jump,
Is an option for happiness,
A defiant proclamation,
Of your independence,

And the hope that others,
Will jump off with you,
Not like those others who can balance their life,
And help others balance, too.

And there's no point,
Really, to either way,
It's not like you're going to live,
To find out the truth, one day.

Open vs Closed

What is there in nature,
That isn't perfect?
Each living thing seems to fulfill a need,
And somehow connect,

To create this world,
That has yet to implode,
Through this thing called evolution,
Giving flexibility to the old,

So the system is both open and closed,
In some deep collaboration,
Control within this ever-changing landscape,
An Apple with some Microsoftion.

And neither work,
Without the philosophy of the other,
Each striving within the opposite world,
Both born of the same mother.

Force of Will

How else can you bend the world,
To coincide with your will,
Than to ignore the facts around you,
As not real?

And that can't work with everybody,
So, some people never will,
But still be mesmerized by those who can,
As something so surreal,

And of those mesmerizers, there are few,
Who find their way in the public eye,
Just like some of the ones who have no power,
By virtue of not asking 'why?',

It takes all kinds,
Whether through fame or subtlety,
To live a life not affected by,
The parameters of reality.

The Self

Yes, you never age on the inside,
Your thoughts never change.
The root of all you are is flowing,
Though continuously rearranged,

Like water from the sky is just like water,
That trickles from the lip of a glass,
So, also, what you are suffuses your body,
In whatever way it presents itself as,

From the child in awe of this new world,
To the drugged, reckless youth breaking it,
The responsible adult trying to keep it together,
Finally, aged, wondering what it all is.

The body changes,
And so changes how you express,
But that expression's always the same,
Because who you are is timeless.

The Brain

There is always something,

Going through your mind,

And if you can, swim right through the thoughts,

And there is nothing you will find,

But the trough in which those images flow,

As they meander in your unique way,

And tour your body, sometimes eddying,

And returning to your thoughts one day.

That's all there is, nothing more,

You're the same thoughts, again and again.

Don't try to damn them up, it won't work,

But to destroy personal relations.

Make no excuse,
You're a product of your own terrain,
Not created by you, but where you live,
Your own unique, impenetrable brain.

Live On

Even the best intentions,
Can lead to catastrophe,
But does that mean that you are ashamed of your actions,
In the face of reality?

All you can do is do your best,
Amidst this impenetrable complexity,
And put the hope of life into others,
Despite all its inequality.

Even when the earth opens up,
And the seas crash down cities,
The world can be a perfect place,
Between the eyes sharing intimacy.

That's all there is,
You and those around you,
And when your life is finally ending,
Will you live on in those others, too?

Connect

Don't let anyone tell you,
That this is all there is,
The things you see and the thoughts you have,
And the life you live.

There are other lives out there, too,
In every eye you see,
More than you will ever be able to know,
With any degree of intimacy.

And yet you'll never reach any depth,
Deeper than you already have,
A heart can never penetrate the thoughts of a mind,
And minds will never understand love,

And life is both,
Though, never the twain shall meet,
One gets you up and the other around,
Neither thinking things are quite complete.

Earning It

Don't let them fool you,
When they make your dreams come true,
And give you everything you ever wanted,
Because they just want to own you,

And you might say that it doesn't matter,
For life for you is so sweet,
Until they take it all back,
And pull the rug out from beneath your feet.

You need to achieve your dreams by yourself,
So you know every step it takes,
So you can do it all again, easier,
And own yourself, for heaven's sake.

And that takes guts,
And a knowledge of who you are,
Two things that when you think of the alternative,
Really aren't that hard.

Moments

Amidst all the moments,
That amass into your life,
Some encompass your entire world,
Some represent a minuscule slice,

But none are smaller than another,
None richer or more meaningful,
Just, maybe, noticed more by whoever you are,
Perhaps more jarring to your world,

Some happen outside of what others would see,
As what defines you,
And them, for some of your moments can, in fact, change,
Moments for others, too.

And who's to say,
Which is your last one?
Even at the end of your life,
No one knows if there's a termination.

Nowhere

Every new situation,
Reminds you of yourself,
And all the things that you really love,
That you've put on the shelf,

For all those things you've been told you want,
Nay, told that you really need,
That cost money that you don't have.
Can we all just agree on this, please?

No one needs the things that they buy,
That stop working and get thrown away.
We could all be richer than our dreams,
If we simply didn't pay,

For half the things,
That we would never have known that we need,
Without the persuasion and pressure from those,
Who convinced us to consume 'til we bleed.

You're Never Wrong

Even when you're stupid,
All is not lost,
There is still time to make it all seem,
Like it was on purpose,

And in the end you will even look,
Smarter than you really are.
People respect complexity much more,
Than being able to count really far.

So, go through life as if everything,
You've ever done was part of a plan,
And if you're not where you want to be now,
Expect it soon,  then.

And you never really want,
To get where you want to be,
You make more people think you are on,
To something of immensity.

Great Thoughts

When you think of something,
You must let everyone know,
Write it down immediately,
Because, like a dream, it will go,

For all the best thoughts are only fleeting,
Why else do you think,
That invention comes in a burst of lightning,
And we're always on war's brink?

Also, no one remains in that state,
Of eternal bliss,
Without becoming some saint or prophet.
Humans weren't made for this.

You'll get it someday,
You need some years under your belt,
Thought is a hard thing to read sometimes,
And is often better felt.

Turned Myself To Face Me

They may happen tomorrow,
Today, or maybe never,
Those things that make you look at your life,
Like you may not have ever,

Things that promise to turn on its head,
Everything you thought you were about,
Your work, your friends and your loves,
Even if they never really turn out,

And what you do with this perspective,
Should not be to waste it away,
Use it phenomenologically,
To understand yourself better one day,

And realize,
That you are more than what you do,
There is an infinite number of things,
That you are also capable of, too.

The Call of the Ocean

Just put me on some sand,
Line that sand with the ocean,
Bring out the sun to warm it all,
And you've found the magic potion,

That rejuvenates my life,
That is all I need,
Like the seed needs the soil,
And all animals need be free.

I would crawl across that soft ground,
And roll into the water,
Taste and feel the salt,
That tells me I be where I oughta,

Oh, why is it so hard,
To just get what you need?
Why do we even live in a society,
If not to make dreams reality?

Risk

The fear of making a mistake,
In this one and only life,
Can paralyze you, that's understandable,
Among the danger and the strife,

Among people who see things differently,
And have no qualms about hurting others,
In the name of protecting themselves.
Contrary to why we live with one another,

Though, hard to blame when given the risks,
And one's own responsibilities,
For those they've brought into this same world,
Of dangers, strife and possibility.

So, do you regret what you've done,
Or leave all undone, so as to not regret?
Either way, there's no truth to guide you,
Except belief, instinct and a bet.

Finding Yourself

You can be what you are,
But you have to know what that is,
Not in a way that you can talk about it,
But instantaneous,

Without thinking,
That is the key,
With no excuses to anyone,
'Cause that's just how you be,

And no matter how that is,
People will admire you,
Because all anyone ever wants,
Is to simply do,

Is to do what they love,
Regardless of talent or wealth.
Life is about finding your bliss,
And so finding yourself.

Time

Time will keep on going,
Even if you want it to stop,
Because the moment you're experiencing,
Can't be topped,

Though, sometimes time gets stuck,
And tortures you with events,
That refuse to leave your mind,
Even as aging does commence,

And what about those moments in time,
That will just never come,
Dreams of what you always wanted to be,
Always an illusion?

They all say something about time,
That you just can't count on it.
Look to something else to mark your life,
That's more friendly to what you wish.

Where To Focus

The best way to do well,
Is to not think to do well,
Or think of how others are doing,
Unless you're interested in hell,

For, like the plant that will shrivel and die,
Should it have too many leaves to feed,
With too little nutrients in the soil,
You must balance desire with need,

And no one will do well,
Who is also looking at others,
Except, perhaps, in matters of money,
Which is not even worth the bother.

Money's on its way out,
Everyone realizes it doesn't work,
Nothing does, that turns the hard-working man,
Into some chumped-up, sad-sack jerk.

Fortune Teller

Some people can get through life,
Without a worry,
And never really want for anything,
Even without luxury,

And lead the way for humanity,
To places currently unthought,
You do that for me everyday of my life,
Which is why I love you a lot,

And the Sun is only getting nearer,
And the throne is closer than you think,
Like the prince born into eventual rule,
Your rebirth is virtually on the brink,

At least that's what I've been told,
And that by someone I didn't know,
Using some unaccepted gauging method.
But, I'm sure she knows how things will go.

Expression

As you stand up there,
Your heart on your sleeve,
Putting it under the cheap lights,
Of the dingy, makeshift stage,

Do you realize that there are many more,
In many more holes in the wall,
Sharing the same intimate details,
To those they don't know at all?

And of those, maybe one might remember you,
After a week of living her own life,
Protecting her heart in a lead box,
So to look at it in private, one more time.

It's the same for everyone,
It's a wonder anyone disagrees,
With everyone doing the same thing,
About the nature of reality.

Just Fun

There are few things in this world,
As universal as the train,
Even the most remote will agree,
It brings stories to the brain,

The rhythm of the cars, pounding by,
As you wonder where,
The things inside will finally go,
While you secretly don't care,

Like when you leave me on a Friday night,
Your caboose is the last thing I see,
So is the shadow blocking the moon,
As that train speaks out to me,

Like when I cry out to you,
And you're too loud to hear,
I'll still be here waiting with the kids,
For you and your fifteenth beer.

Love Connection

There are some connections,
Which should not go untapped,
The randomness of the human condition,
Precludes all violent acts,

There is no such thing, when we know so little,
About the purpose we serve here.
Sometimes the best one can do is to observe,
And grasp on to what is most dear,

Regardless of the expectations of others,
Rooted in the expectation of man,
Which has no connection or understanding,
Of what actually makes us human:

The need to be loved,
Beyond food, beyond money.
The question 'why' is all that put us here,
And we seek the answer through community.

Letter To My Son

What do you need to believe,
That nothing that you do,
Will ever be able to mitigate,
How much I love you?

Even when you act,
Like I never want you to be-
Wait, maybe your love's not the problem,
Maybe it's me.

Maybe it's my perception,
Of what the world might say,
Seeing who you are.
What an absurd way,

To gauge how you act.
You're the only one on earth,
As far as I'm concerned,
So let's engage in some mirth!

New Morning

Don't stand for what you believe in,
Lest the world disagrees,
And makes the punishment much worse than the choice,
To simply accede.

Think of all the things you still can do,
Even if your instincts are compromised.
Work from within to affect change you want,
But don't let them see it in your eyes.

Influence others,
Both overtly and without warning,
With revolution draped in kindness,
And though there may be no new morning,

You can comfort yourself,
That you were different than all the rest,
While not actually letting them know,
Which is for the best.

Be Peace

What's it going to take,
To revolutionize this world,
And eradicate all forms of injustice,
For every boy and girl?

No more murder, no more restrictions,
On the freedom that's everyone's right,
Just simple respect for each other as humans,
All in the same fight,

Of self-identity and understanding,
Of why we are here at all.
That really is what's at the root of all evil,
Not money, greed or powerful people.

Of course, we don't want to lose,
That fire that helps us create,
That also needs conflict and injustice.
The seeds for everything that we make.

Democracy Now

It has all been said, now,
We only need look back,
And translate the language of before,
To today's tack,

Ensuring the language of Democracy,
Is utilized to display,
The inequalities that it creates,
To transform it the next day,

For no vote is needed to find out,
What the people want,
Their presence on the streets with signs in their hands,
Kind of says enough.

And if what they say,
Seems unreasonable to those who must act,
It's not for them to read the peoples' mind,
But to listen and enact.

Connect

There are only so many people,
Of just the ilk,
To connect with you, so that you can reflect on,
Love and life and fill,

That void that only exists, once you want,
To think more about yourself,
Than as an animal,
In need of help.

Beyond that, we have little choice else,
We can fight, but for others,
A noble calling, to be sure,
And something to make proud mothers,

And frightened, too,
For sacrifice is hard,
Especially of oneself,
That's just how people are.

Morality

What is it you will risk,
For the freedom of your mind,
And your right to remember that where you are,
Is just a world of one kind,

And all it takes to change,
Is an action that needs,
To defy the expectations of those around you.
Such is he nature of morality,

To pit yourself against you,
To distract you from the call,
To understand this place you're born into,
With laws and love and malls.

I suppose we wouldn't get far,
If we couldn't count on each other,
To maintain this world we've created,
Without questions, choice or wonder.

Capitalism's Trap

I just want to find you,
Among the rabble and the waste,
'Cause some will never be on your side,
In thirty-six thousand, five hundred days,

Because I know there's enough of us,
To force the rest of them to see,
That the answer to peace isn't capitalism,
Or even democracy,

What everyone knows is that the root,
Of all evil in the world today,
Is inequality, through color and race,
And economic disparity,

And what's wrong with us,
Those who would rather see no one percent,
Is that if the riches were offered to us,
We would take it, you better bet.

Keep On Trucking

``Just keep on trucking,"

If you think that's good advice,

Then you must have nothing to unload,

Or have to pick up something nice,

Or want to stop anywhere for a bite,

Sit with a friend, and talk about your fears,

It's amazing how you've gotten by,

Without opening up all these years.

You must not need to stop and look around,

Everything you need to know's in your brain,

Placed there before you were even born,

And the world has remained the same.

So keep keeping on,
It's nice seeing you drive by,
Oblivious to things streaming along,
That aren't productions of your own mind.

Sitting on a Porch

Take the world around you,
Everywhere you go,
The birds and breeze, pretty lights you installed,
And the pebbles painted indigo,

The memories of what they all once were,
Before you existed on this earth,
The people who helped you along the way,
Even when you weren't sure,

Of who you were, not a required thing,
Not even common or maybe possible,
Recalling, now, what we all were once,
Our imaginations ten feet tall.

but you must move on,
Neither life nor clocks stand still,
Or your ever-changing opinion,
Of the desires of your will.

Despair's Bright Side

You don't have to have,
Something everyday,
To look at as an accomplishment,
That lets you say,

"All I've done is for this life,
And life has given me what I want."
Strive for more diversity in this journey.
Don't underestimate sadness and strife.

The tree in winter is still beautiful,
And as fulfilled as in full bloom,
Just as the light of utter despair,
Can ominously fill up a room.

Just as my love for you,
Can destroy all my fantasies,
And one word from you can destroy my wold,
And give beauty to all travesties.

Perfection Revisited

You just have to know,
What kind of person you are,
And accept that, I guess,
Because change is just too far,

It's nowhere in site.
The best you can hope for,
Is a rearrangement of your circumstances,
To hide the traits that abhor,

And try to avoid the outbursts,
And  angst about how things are,
They're exactly as your body determines,
From now until ever more.

Try, instead, to let it all go,
That's the only way not to let them interfere,
Your fears and inadequacies,
Existent, only while you hold them dear.

Missed Opportunies

It's not how many opportunities,
That you miss,
It's how many you create, because,
No one achieves perfectness,

Because life does not arm you,
With past experience.
You have to create that, yourself,
And that requires a few misses,

And to get yourself some misses,
You need lots of opportunities,
Which you need to create.
Are you starting to see,

what I'm getting at?
Don't be depressed,
By seeming failures.
You still need a few, yet.

For You

Just because you're feeling,
Like you can handle where you are,
With your dissatisfaction and trepidation,
And knowledge that you're way too far,

From what you should be doing in your life.
Isn't it funny?
That you should have only one chance at it,
And here you are, unhappy.

Which breaks my heart, because you are my life,
I'm intrinsically tied to you.
Your goals and dreams and those fine curves,
And the back of you, which is gloriously cute.

So throw it all away,
You'll always have me to fall on,
Because what I should be doing in MY life,
Is being your automaton.

The Way Things Are

Some things just don't matter,
The problem's knowing which.
There's no book ever written that,
Is blindingly categoric,

'Cause if there was, then we'd all know,
What's important, too,
Which is always up for debate,
Even if blindingly obvious to you,

Which it isn't, even if you think,
You have it all right.
Dig deep enough into your reasoning,
And you'll find your passion's light,

Guiding you,
Which is instinct, not an argument,
Unless you believe that's truth enough,
Which is still only one person's opinion.

To Get Close To You

When you have accomplished,
Something in your life,
And add it to the list and let it go,
Well, that's just what you're like,

Like blossoms that just fall and disappear,
You're as predictable as the seasons,
Your flame is strong, when you're unknown,
And snuffed in the face of recognition,

Which misses the point of most,
Acts of creativity,
I create to communicate,
And bring others closer to me,

Not god, for sure,
Maybe in the act,
But I want to cross the bridge between us,
Not disappear from the facts.

Grab What You Need

Don't take everything,

You can't handle it,

Your eyes pop, and your life explodes,

And it's not all fun, is it?

Choose what you love, like me,

Embrace and nurture it,

Your heart expands and your hands can touch,

Around the back of it,

And those things that you let go,

And leave behind as your heart grows,

Are picked up by those who love them more,

They prop you up, and that's how success goes.

And that's what I want for you,
Because you have so much to give,
And really, doing things you don't want to do.
Is that any way to live?

Connections

There is just no stopping,
The wheels of existence,
And all the individual projects,
You gave momentum,

And some will peter out,
And some will grow legs of their own,
Leaving you for a life independent,
Of what you could have shown,

Which never quite achieved what others,
Seemed capable of,
Though, capability's little to do with ability,
And more to do with the powers above.

No, not god,
Much more invasive, for sure,
I'm talking about connections,
The only currency that's pure.

Newness

There is no such thing,
As not being able to express,
Your light shines like dripping paint,
Falling onto your dress,

With each drop holding the color,
That you like best.
Jump in, I think you'll finally find,
Peace in your existence,

Then spread yourself, for all to see,
Across everything you touch.
People can't be angry, when you paint the world.
Expression is enough,

For anyone to see,
That beyond expectation,
Newness is the gift of life,
And how we get satisfaction.

Change

There are things that can happen,
To completely change your life,
Opportunity or stumbling block,
Each could snuff out the light,

Shed on the path that you are currently on.
This is what living is about,
Intensity and openness,
So, get ready to shout,

Get ready to scream,
Don't worry what people think,
We're all in the same boat,
With the same leaks,

With another close by,
To leap into, if need be,
With no expectations for where you're going,
And no regrets for what you leave.

Accomplish Something

You can live the dreams of others,
That they have for you,
And if they're easier than your own,
Then, you have the chance to,

Realize dreams without the feeling,
Of extreme euphoria,
That will  be felt by those,
Who have the dreams for ya,

Without the feeling that they'd have,
If the dreams were for themselves,
And they were the ones that accomplished them,
Now wouldn't that be just swell?

Which is not to say,
That they don't have dreams of their own,
That they also manage to realize,
Because some people are like a dog with a bone.

Almost Famous

Sure, sure and steady,
Will always win the race,
Provided you don't get to the finish line,
A bit too late,

To truly enjoy all that you have won,
Don't let your death bed be,
The podium for your victory speech,
For attaining all your dreams,

For if there's something celebrities,
Can teach each one of us,
You don't necessarily need years of hard work,
To be famous,

All you need is balls,
And love and a little luck,
Two of which are up to you,
And one comes when you increase your pluck.

The Length of a Second

Did you know that the second,
Is not something that can be,
Absolutely measured,
And will forever be,

Defined differently,
Depending on how,
Science decides is the most accurate,
Way to measure it now?

And that is because we can only go,
By what we find in nature,
Like the duration of radiation,
Which we assume to constantly occur,

Which it may not,
Like your reaction-time to my love.
If that was the measure of the length of a second,
Sometimes a second would never come.

Communication

You don't have to agree,
To communicate,
As long as the other person thinks they understand,
Your relationship could be great,

And all that means is that the words you use,
Are said with the other in mind,
Knowing that you are chasms apart,
But still of the same human kind,

And feeling no ill-will to anyone,
For once you start to beget bitterness,
The road you're on will lead you to regret,
And loneliness,

Which is what you don't want,
Because you get nowhere alone,
Even if you are a trillionaire,
There's not much skin between the knife and bone.

The Truth

It doesn't really matter,
What other people think,
Regardless of their status in your life,
Or their influence on everything,

Because your perspective on reality,
Is only limited by,
The number of others who do not share it,
But that's nothing to live by!

There is no truth that can be pointed to,
That must root any one view,
And anyone who tells you differently,
Is just trying to manipulate you.

Don't let that happen,
If you have any love to give,
For there is one truth that I forgot:
You have the right to live!

The Serf's Ode

Imagine the freedom,
The movement without fear,
Not of the threat of violence,
We imagine over there,

Not of the whispered commentary,
Of some dissident plan,
To eliminate all support,
For the most unfortunate humans,

But of the need for money,
The only way I could give you,
All you deserve for your existence,
And to finally prove,

That you have all of me,
Which in this world includes,
Everything that I owe.
Enjoy my labor's fruit.

Do What You Love

It's really not that hard,
To know where you stand,
What you love and what you love to do,
All very easy to understand,

It's the forces trying to thwart you,
And I'm not talking about society,
It's often cited as an oppressive force,
But it is often what you want it to be,

Or rather, you can work it how you want,
Which may mean compromising others,
To do what you were meant to,
Maybe 'not that hard' is really 'harder'.

Because there is more than you,
We live in a community,
And we have to figure how to live,
While surviving reality.

To Get Inside

You are a seed,
Broken forth as a leaf,
Grown from a swaying stem,
Reaching out to me,

And your jagged edges,
Are the first edges to meet,
On my way through your mesophyll,
A tasty layer to eat,

Reaching your veins, so that I may,
Journey to the root,
Of your soul, your rhizomian plant,
Manufacturing that prickly suit.

From your tender heart,
Feeding your long, slender petioles,
To know your parts without dissecting you,
Is my life's never-ending goal.

Freedom From Money

When you have done something,
For such a long time,
In relation to your life on earth,
There is one thing to decide:

Can you get better at it, and do you want to?
Are there other things that you would prefer?
Is your time precious enough to mind,
That it is essentially being deferred?

Yes, there are other considerations,
Like how will you pay the bills, you know.
Though, some people say to do what you love,
And the money will follow.

Though, this may be the time,
To acknowledge that,
Until the revolution comes,
That is not a fact.

What You Saw

If you hear something,
That seems to reflect on your life,
From a source that touches you deeply,
And you think that it's not nice,

Like the wind that blows dust in your eyes,
When wind is what you love most,
Is it the dust or the wind at fault?
Is it fair to blame either or both?

Like the abuse that you suffer,
At the hands of someone you don't like,
And you know that it has nothing to do with you,
But you start feeling like it might,

Just remember that,
All you know is what you perceive,
And if something refuses to change in your world,
Well, then, just leave.

What's Underneath

No one is the same,
From one moment to the next,
Just as shadows hide parts of you,
There's parts that no one has seen, yet.

And all those parts that are beautiful,
May never see the light of day,
Or be forgotten in light of other parts,
That are more ugly.

Just the knowledge that they are there,
Can turn a lover off forever,
The darkest, most hidden, deformity,
Can live on, under cover.

Yet, you're still the same, right?
Nothing's changed except the light,
And the knowledge of those around you.
Though, we all have things to hide.

The Heartlight

Despite your best intentions,
And deep-held beliefs,
The world can easily throw you into,
A most despairing grief,

Like a frog, trying to cross a road,
The forces holding your life,
Are heading where you will never go,
Forging forth with greater might,

Being right, for that reason,
Its intentions foreign to your reality.
Don't try to fight it, just let's hope,
The grass is greener than where you've been.

Because being safe is your first step,
To being able to make your mark,
Not with what's left after life runs you over,
But with your desire's greatest spark.