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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.