Pickle Pong

Here's the thing 'bout ping pong,
Or anything, really,
If you do not keep your eye on the ball,
You've lost reality,

The way I lost this computer's 'F' key,
I had it in my hand,
I flinched, it flew, I heard it tumble down,
Through the grate on the floor, I understand,

It may's well have been reported to me,
For all I really know,
Like the news, I put the facts together,
At least, that's my M.O.

What? It's not yours?
Maybe think about it,
How many things have you actu'lly seen, That's part of the world in which you exist?

How Do We Know?

Sure, the truth is fluid,
If you ignore the facts,
Even then, when did we e'er trust our eyes,
The moment luck retracts?

Even then, we see what we want to see,
It is compulsory,
You e'er shut your eyes when you didn't want?
No one can keep you from catastrophe.

Even then, you feel what's right and what's not,
Tucker says that is God,
Proof that truth is rooted in one's beliefs,
Though he would say it's not,

It's self-lying,
Of course, how could he know?
Can't believe I'm free to do what I want,
Even then I'm wond'ring if it's all show.

Hume Or

It is quite possible,
That all the things you see,
That make you shake your head like they're not real,
Actually might be.

Like how're they diff'rent from what you believe,
In actuality?
Do you have more proof of their existence,
Or did you pick your fav'rite make-believe?

'Cause I have to tell you, I have my doubts,
Like any good skeptic,
Then I ask myself what would Bowie do,
And I get suffragette.

Wait, wrong David,
Well, you know what I mean,
As sure as you are about what is real,
I feel the same 'bout what you think's obscene.

A Week of Dreams

This week's just beginning,
My hopes were ten miles high,
With each day's passing it slowly descends,
As the world passes by,

Does everyone I see feel like me,
Do they even exist?
I swear if I have that thought one more time,
I'll put a hole in that wall with my fist,

That will show the world who's there and who's not,
Then again, what's it prove?
The pain I feel'll be felt by me alone,
With no one there to soothe.

Another sleep,
See what tomorrow brings,
If I'm still here come friday afteroon,
I'm sure come Monday I'll be re-hoping.

Not To Be Misunderstood

Something's short-circuited,
Ended some connections,
To allow some insulated thinking,
In different regions,

They will come back on-line when it is time,
When duty demands it,
They'll reaquaint and maybe find new ways,
To understand the world as one unit,

Maybe they'll be able to put in words,
For all to understand,
The need for peace and love to overcome,
The wars between humans,

Onset by fear,
The irony, of course,
Is that we are the same, at least we think,
If we're honest with the truth in our core.

The Cure to Jinxing

You may find that sometimes,
Things start going your way,
Leading you down a path towards your dreams,
In ways you daren't say,

Because you fear that you might jinx it all,
For all I know, you're right,
But then I think what would dear Pascal say,
When I wager the future's not in sight,

I suspect that since anything might pass,
All you have's the present,
Which is the only place dreams can exist,
To an eager student,

Of perception,
That's all we ever have,
Don't worry about jinxing the future,
Live by walking your ideal future's path.

Synchronous Events

What's synchronicity?
Look at the ev'ryday,
The connections between disparate facts,
To something you did say,

In heart or mind or through your vocal chords,
(You know it's all the same),
Then ask which is the cause of the other,
Better yet, whether neither's a better name,

What's in no dispute is they both exist,
One's thought, the other's not,
It is not like either knows anything,
Their just around a lot,

The connections,
There's nothing without these,
Just jumbles of perceptions floating 'round,
That's the essence of synchronicity.

Staying Alive

Times, they are a'changin',
Me? I don't think that much,
May there be a confluence twixt my goals,
And the world's needs, as such,

It's been such a long time since I was born,
Longer than time, the thing,
It would be the same if I was younger,
Nothing exists that's not in my being,

That being said, I do believe in you,
How else could I get by?
Without an audience there'd be no point,
I'm the concept of "die".

I took a turn?
What else do you expect?
Without these words would I even exist?
I'll tell you what, not on the world wide web.

The Wath's Origin

I write ev'ryday now,
Okay, maybe not here,
If it makes it better, it's not the same,
To this, there is no peer,

I still hear the tune of the song I wrote,
This meter is based on,
Though in the day it had far less rules,
But I don't think any less emotion,

I don't think I think any different,
Not sure that's a good thing!
I've new words to describe reality,
And no one's listening,

Ah, that's alright,
Just like the good old days,
When I would sing new words to the themesong,
Each week on my show that aired on Wednesdays.