Your Mark

You're just one of billions,
Now and what came before,
That you think what we do makes a difference,
Well, I just love you more.

I suppose you could point at a Jesus,
Though e'en he will become part of the past,
Unless the world ends now,
In which case not even the past will last,

And Jesus didn't live to see his boon-
Uhm, well how about Blake,
Considered insane by those who knew him,
Then his fame came too late.

So, what's the point?
It's about feeling good,
While you are alive in your little world,
And you can say that all be as it should.

Meant To Be

You're an individu'l,
With your very own thoughts,
Born of the world in which you found yourself,
With its own don'ts and oughts,

Born of a culture that's already there,
Born of circumstances,
Like hills, rain, drugs, and those that came before,
As key to who you are as one's hand is.

So as you lie there in a pool of blood,
Wond'ring how you got here,
The millions judging you through tel'vision,
Are convinced it's quite clear:

You'ere born for it,
Nothing could change your ways,
E'en though your fam'ly says you were a saint,
It was bound to happen one of these days.

Berlin Walls

When there is a city,
Robust and happening,
Gentrification's inevitable,
Yet always surprising,

With Berlin Walls of abandoned projects,
Protecting the new ones,
With a little money and willingness,
To live amidst the poor and construction.

They know it will only last for a while,
When at the other end,
They have more money and less Berlin Walls,
And more like-minded friends.

And what of those,
Who made way for the new?
Their lives are the same in a diff'rent place,
Like the lives of those who replaced them, too.

Elizabeth Warren

What was that that you asked?
What banks we've brought to court?
As regulators our hands are quite tied,
That's not what we're here for.

Financial institutions help us all,
They provide the structure,
That supports our very way of living,
The pursuit of happiness, true and pure.

We're there to fill in the natural hole,
Of dissatisfaction,
That forms when there is inequality,
And clear exploitation.

So, there you go,
You needed us to say,
What everyone knows but don't talk about,
Lest there's demand for more equit'ble ways.

Happy Valentines Day

Today's the day of love,
Whatever that might mean,
Generations have sought to define it,
Yet, it's never been seen,

It's yet to be proven that it exists,
Except for those who have,
But when they explain it to the others,
It's always sentimental and half-assed,

It's always mired in one's own feelings,
Which can't really be felt,
By the person reading words on a page.
For their heart to be melt,

They need real love,
Really, the goal of all,
For anyone trying to find meaning,
On this tiny, lonely, sad, mixed-up ball.

Ikea Blues

I know that Ikea,
Is just another store,
People and computers are not perfect,
Regardless of its lore,

Yet it surprises me eternally,
That I am missing parts,
Because now it's going to take me hours,
And it's breaking my heart,

This thing whose essence already exists,
Is denied existence,
If this is how god were to run his store,
This world would be a mess.

So here I sit,
Drowned in imperfection,
I may as well open a store myself,
If it only requires this precision.

Love's Distraction

How does one keep focused,
On what he has to do,
To keep doing what brings him the most joy,
When distracted by you?

You who puts road blocks at every turn,
Not that you really care,
It's just some unhappy humans' fate,
To prance so blissfully into your snare,

Like when you hoisted upon me your love,
The attention kept me,
From reaching love out to the world beyond,
The confines of that theme,

Which still worked out,
For who does not want love?
Even those who've only heard about it,
Know it as a blistery-cold day's glove.

Grow Up

You know what I'm thinking,
Everybody does,
Just block out the noise that this world creates,
This reality fuzz,

This background music, why did you do that,
She can't possibly mean what she's saying,
I'm hearing something more,
Coloured by my yen and lack of hearing,

This ulterior motive point of view,
A complicated world,
'Cause if you actually mean what you say,
Then you, poor thing, are fooled,

Into thinking,
That living can mean truth,
You just haven't grown out of the magic,
And eternal optimism of youth.

Mom

There IS magic in life,
You are the proof of it,
Living with faith that if you have the faith,
The un'verse will comment,

And why not?!  There's already, in our head,
A voice that's not our own,
As helpful as our other five senses,
And as missed if it should leave you alone.

How must you have felt, when the doctor said,
In fact, we think you're fine,
And you would be taking that poison now,
If you'd not asked for time.

You remind me,
Of my happiest days,
When I lived by faith in my instinct's goals,
When the outcome never failed to amaze.

Stepping Out

It is now or never,
That is always the case,
For if you don't move into where you want,
Someone will take your place.

Don't fret for all the people in the world,
There's also much to do,
So many different personalities,
There must be a circle made just for you,

Just like you fill a space within my heart.
No one else would quite fit,
Step inside and mull it over a while,
Until you're confident,

And can step out,
The way you were meant to.
I'll be there every step of the way,
To encourage, cheer, and to support you.

Cryogenics

I want to be frozen,
My intact cells preserved,
'Til they figure out how to rebuild me,
So that I can return,

To do all those things I had no chance to,
Because I didn't have,
The benefit of living a lifetime,
Like I'll have when I return from the grave,

And when I fuck up that existence, too,
Freeze me another time,
I'm bound to get it right eventu'lly,
Then I'll fin'lly be fine,

And then I'll die,
Once and for fucking all,
Why would I come back to do it again,
When there's no longer any obstacles?

These Nighttime Moments

The washing machine runs,
Clanging while the house sleeps,
It stops while I listen from on my bed,
After a midnight beat,

Got to fix the dripping in the damn rad,
God, will it ever cease?
The fixing, building, cleaning, purchasing,
I think, in the glow after my release,

If I don't turn this screen off, I'll go mad,
That's what the experts say,
But, between work, kids, sup and the laundry,
There's not much of a day,

You can speak of,
It's these nighttime moments,
You can really think about what you've got,
And about where everything else went.

When It's Time To Go

If you are all alone,
The world empty of friends,
Too much to clean up to do without help,
No hope of an entrance,

Of that person who doesn't have to think,
When buying you a gift.
It's nothing you've done in particular,
She only doesn't happen to exist.

So what does this life have to offer you?
You'll have to wait and see,
But still seek by exploring other worlds,
'Cause yours isn't working.

It is not right,
You don't need signs to know,
You have to scale that wall just once to get,
That there are endless places you can go.

The Bus

When you're taking the bus,
If you haven't before,
Remember no one takes it willingly,
Except as a good chore,

Like they want to save the environment,
Everything at a cost,
But for the most part, nobody's happy,
Riding this tired, slow, crowded, bumpy bus,

And who's to blame them?  Everbody's dream,
Should be to own a car,
Why else would they have built subdivisions,
'Cept to speed'ly get far?

That's what I want,
To get to you so fast,
I would ride this crappy thing everyday,
E'en if the fare hikes continue to last!

What To Say

How honest can you be,
Before what you express,
Misrepresents what you actu'lly think,
And turns ubiquitous,

Becoming gen'ral rules for everything,
Regardless of loved ones,
Seeming harsh to those looking for a sign,
That you're a living and breathing person,

While all you want to do is not to hide,
Because life is t0o short,
And your only guide is intuition,
The sense not to ignore?

Stick with your guns?
The only truth is you.
Can you actually die knowing that,
You lived a life free of personal truth?

While We're Apart

Life is quite very long,
Despite what the old say,
For they are living through their memories,
With no thought for today,

Which stretches like your hair across your form,
While we remain apart,
Yet, still not reaching through the laptop screen,
'Cept through the secret portal to my heart,

And I could stretch it even further, still,
With thoughts of the future,
And the endless moments still yet to come,
Of waiting- still torture.

But yet, some day,
When we are one again,
I'll probably feel a thousand years old,
For time does fly with the right companion!

Truly

Do what you want to do,
You only have one chance,
As do, too, the people around you,
Telling you how to dance.

You know how it feels to not be moving,
Exactly how you like,
To music not made for your temperament,
You could cut the awkwardness with a knife.

Yes, you have some responsibilities,
That limit your movements,
But limitation is different than,
Certain requirements.

So go ahead,
Be what you want to be.
You will be an envious example,
Amid all this fakeness and tom-fool'ry.

The Obstacles Before Us

Ev'ryone in their life,
Should Exper'ence sadness,
Not for loss of loved ones, but for what they,
Haven't accomplished, yet,

At which point, some will despair and give up,
Like they've done all their life,
For think of all the people in the world,
And the chances of getting what you like!

Then there's that Pegasus,
Persevering in the face of the odds,
Finding life in the bite,
By the gadfly sent by the very gods.

So which are you?
You know nothing's easy,
Even for those who were handed success,
After years of working tirelessly.

The Fever

I know that you're sick, now,
It is causing you to,
Think uncomfortable thoughts 'bout life,
And the things you think due,

Just 'cause the place you happened to be born,
Affords you to take time,
To feel guilt about the things that you have,
While others do not have a fucking dime.

So go vomit in that hotel toilet,
Writing it down won't help,
The chambermaid hired to clean it all up,
Regardless how it sells.

Though, it was good,
And it did make me think,
But art "does not change the life of the poor",
And neither, so you say, will anything.

True Revolution

Revolution mayn't be,
The best way to improve,
The injustices you're experiencing,
Because starting anew,

All the good policies already won,
Just through community,
And the natr'al ev'lution of humans,

Then's a waste of expended energy.

But the good things we have only arise,
If our leaders believe,
That we would revolt, if we do not feel,
We're getting what we need.

That is the key,
To true revolution,
Being willing to throw it all away,
If freedom's not given to everyone!