Animals

There's no human being,
You could call animal,
Just like no animal's not worth respect,
Ever since man's great fall,

It's a wonder chains were e'er invented,
Who came up with that first?
What need to keep another living thing?
An event born with the notion of cursed,

And all the evil that comes with that view,
Blah, blah, yadda, yadda,
If you want to treat others with respect,
Then, well, you just oughta.

It's that easy,
It's called live and let live</>.
Then you can heal and accept your own fate,
As one with as much freedom as you give.

What You See

Take a look at yourself,
What you see's what you get,
What you get's what you accept in yourself,
What you accept's correct,

The paradox is what you see mayn't be,
What it is that you want,
But what you think others get when they see,
Which they then assume is you, but it's not,

If you'd see what you get, which you do not,
What kind of life is that?
The kind where your eyes see not what there is,
That's illusion, not fact.

That don't feel good,
You know what you're doing,
You're relenting on being your true self,
That's the last thing you should be eschewing.

Serenity Now

Things are e'er what they are,
Despite how you may hope,
Yes, they may change, but in a thousand ways,
The way which you want? Nope,

Or rather, it is not impossible,
That's life's magicalness,
But no alterations can ever pass,
'Less you practice radical acceptance,

Not talking 'bout the Serenity Prayer,
'Least, I hadn't planned to,
But, really, if God were alive today,
He'd probably slap you,

And say, "wake up!
"Do you think you're dreaming?
Stop dying, wishing things were different,
And live facing the way they are seeming."

Running

If this is putting off,
I don't want to be right,
The movement of ev'ry limb that I see,
'Skey to locks out of sight,

Existing in another dimension,
Just theoretical,
Putting into question your sensations,
Whether it is there need not be settled,

You must take that taste with a grain of salt,
Feelings, too, are suspect,
They'll only help you with the chimera,
Of all that you expect,

But it's not there,
It's on the horizon,
A backdrop, for sure, sunlight on your dreams,
But it is not in the world your eye's in.

Off The Freight Train

In the nineteen fifties,
Entered into New York,
A young man wishing just to play guitar,
That music they called folk,

Because it told stories and captured hearts,
So what, it didn't sell?
You sing your soul, get paid if you're lucky,
Happy if you play well,

E'er in front of people or not at all,
Else there was no feelin',
He'd meet his idols and they'd ask his name,
He'd reply, 'Bob Dylan',

The song was his,
They'd always ask to hear,
It was obvious to all he had it,
That's his reward for conquering his fear.

The Music

You are music to me,
Carrying me through time,
Your calm tempo replacing the seconds,
Mundane becomes sublime,

The sounds of the street organize themselves,
Like they were meant to be,
Oh, would that all the world just understood,
That in the cacophony's harmony,

But the melody comes from in not out,
The peace must be in you,
Only then you see the dance of others,
And so, too, their world view,

Is it the same?
But it don't mean a thing,
Once everyone's dancing to their own beat,
All your body will wish to do is sing.

A Heart's Test

The single stage pump drones,
'Til its work's met by flesh,
A membrane layered on a blood jet stream,
Packaged in the man, Pietch,

If the world were diff'rent, so'd the readings,
So, too, expectations,
Three hundred years, now, this force has been known,
The heart's not just the source of affections,

The machine stops now, the retreat's slow hiss,
The reading's what it is,
A moment in time, 'mongst infinite more,
Each a correlative,

But, yet, alone,
Is ev'rything function?
What 'bout those ev'nings side-by-side in bed,
When our blood feels like they're beating as one?

Blacksmith Hands

I don't know these people,
Eyes wide, skin clean and fresh,
Not constrained by their lack of cash in hand,
They face a diff'rent test,

Minds focus all day on unhuman things,
In that, we are the same,
Put them in a tower and knock it down,
It wouldn't alter the rules of the game,

Maybe it is just their colorful socks,
A whimsy I don't know,
That despite there is no point to it all,
We're still in one big show,

That's the secret,
You can't control outside,
But create your own world to exist in,
And what's out's in's what's there until you've died.

Advice

How else can you react,
Than how it is you've learned,
From those that came before and should have known,
The risks around the turns?

The disappointments and let-downs in life,
As if they didn't know,
They weren't taught to deal with them, too,
For that, d'you know how far back you must go?

The kicker is there is no point in time,
That knowledge don't exist,
Sure there are books with an answer of sorts,
Brandished by fanatics,

You don't need that,
The answer's inside you,
You're as fresh as the first daisy, ever,
And that one learned how to live as it grew.

Say Anything

Speaking implies notion,
Like you mean what you say,
But until you get out your dying words,
Your thoughts are not betrayed,

Even then, unless you are not alive,
There's e'er another side,
If you were able to call from the dead,
You'd have some new message from the inside,

Imagine you could have said everything,
Just paste it on your head,
Ne'er a syllable needed afterward,
Except please pass the bread,

P'haps I love you,
Just 'cause it's nice to hear,
Just be careful, for the more that you say,
The more you'll have to say to be made clear.

UP

I just did a chin-up,
It's something about health,
An elusive state of body and mind,
Nigh important as wealth,

With chin-ups it's all about quantity,
Just like money, in fact,
Could it be that if I get big enough,
I will gain what I ever felt I lacked?

If I pump to the size of a mammoth,
My woes could go away,
Forget working hard for good day's wage,
Muscles will forge the way,

Just need practice,
More than five at a time,
Then I will have ev'rything that I want,
All the comfort without spending a dime.

He's Been Through Worse

Sitting on a bench,
A man in peach shorts,
Masked for a moment by a police car,
Neck not slightly torqued,

His hand raises his smoke while his eyes on phone,
Did he work any less,
Wake up later, follow a diff'rent code,
Than the guy who just passed in the Lexus?

Will he sit there all day, thinking the same?
We all just do our best,
With what we have been given and e'er have,
We're not living a test,

It is called life,
Mysterious and grand,
I'll stop musing on the one on the bench,
One's own is hard enough to understand.

Night Visions

There is a light o'er there,
Like a computer screen,
Backlit by millions diode pixels,
Like nothing I've e'er seen,

It's a glow so faint, it is only clear,
If I turn my phone off,
Yet the black break in between tells me that,
There's a true glow and one that's a knock-off,

It's only 'cause I know I'm on a lake,
I see it for its truth,
The ev'ning moon's reflection off the lake,
Memories of my youth,

In simpler times,
When I couldn't write this,
In situ, with the screen brightness turned low,
So my eyes can report back on this bliss.

No Sound

When it's quiet like this,
Crickets the only sound,
I then hear the constant buzz in my ears,
Like some white noise rebound,

So loud I almost miss the splash of fish,
Eating a midnight snack,
What noise my daily life must be filled with,
That my ears reverberate with its lack,

How long it will take to recalibrate,
To what nature had planned,
Is not something that I can calculate,
But surely I'll be damned,

If I find out,
For then I'd have to flee,
The only world I've known my entire life,
Where I'm surrounded by my family.

On The Shore

Trees are growing from rocks,
Butt up against the shore,
The water bugs play some mass game of tag,
Fish ain't biting no more,

This land's scarce changed in a millennia,
'Cept for the odd cottage,
It would take a city's with of humans,
To make nature get the fuck out of Dodge,

But that's just 'cause it's a provincial park,
Only 'cause it's no worth,
It is the same with hireability,
And the city of Perth,

You're in the wake,
Or you are moved by it,
Either way you have to be in water,
If you say you are not I won't buy it.

Uhm, I'm Still Here

Just because I'm a ghost,
Doesn't mean I read minds,
If you don't tell me you're thinking of me,
I will think you unkind,

Won't show you the path to a better life,
You better bet I could,
Telepathy, no, fortune telling, yes,
We see in four dimensions pretty good,

Other than that, things are mostly the same,
Old mind different suit,
It's against the rules to communicate,
But so was stealing loot,

And I did that,
Many other things, too,
So give me a sign you miss me a bit,
I'll break an ethereal law for you.

Love (the imperative)

May love never leave you,
No matter where it goes,
Attached to things that are not worth your time,
Blinded by fleeting throes,

Or clinging to someone who's not worthy,
At least the feeling's there,
Not roaming outside you with all hope lost,
Chasing dreams long disappeared in thin air,

Better you love TV or, worse, a dog,
Go spend it on handbags,
Shower your adoration on false gods,
Rather you live in rags,

Than lose all love,
Instead, destroy coffee,
Just trying to think of the most absurd,
So you apprec'ate love's necessity.

Welcome to the World

Why you need two handbags,
I'd love to understand,
Perhaps you fill them with what's fallen out,
When your front door is slammed,

Like a closet that's bursting to the seams,
With everything you need,
A water bottle thirteen months half full,
Old cassette tapes and books you'll never read,

Things you couldn't sell when the system dies,
When you need to leave home,
Your world becomes oh such a diff'rent place,
Unwanted and unknown,

But yet, it's there,
Like you were born that day,
Just handed to you, like that's how it is,
And it couldn't be any other way.

The Stripper

It's about the moment,

Just unpredictable,

Influenced by so many unknown facts,

Couldn't count if able,

But there is ne'er a doubt when I'm with you,

Is't a trick of the mind?

You can make yourself believe something, y'know?

Ref'rence Jesus' last words when he died,

Think about your faith in the weatherman,

Where percentage is truth,

You think you will wake up in the morning,

For real'lty stays aloof,

But not right here,

Looking into your eyes,

The moment's only the realization,

That we should fear naught hellos or good-byes.

Too Tired

There is too much to do,
To think of what you love,
Food won't knock on your door, jump on your plate,
What are you thinking of?

That which inspires you can only exist,
With unoccupied minds,
That is why art has basically been dead,
Since the ancient Egyptians have all died,

It is not so much the need to survive,
That's just a piddly thing,
Hunger begs you to shout out to the world,
What your heart is singing,

It's other stuff,
Beyond the fork and knife,
Work begets cash, begets shopping, then what?
We're so removed from living, where is life?