We come into this world full of piss and vinegar ready to take on the world, full of great ideas, able to do anything. Innocence is a beautiful thing still as yet uncorrupted. Then the world sees our zeal for life and pisses on us. Years later we sour, become jaded and realize we can’t really do a GD thing to change anything. Yeah we can affect our immediate world and even ourselves, but it never really catches hold.
Midlife comes and everybody who is not a friend sucks ass, does stupid stuff and screws the rest of the world in general. Not yet defeated we keep putting on the good face and try to go with the flow in some way. By the time we are intelligent and wise enough to understand the world and maybe have the idea that could truly change the world, we are to old to give a damn. The world forgets us and we leave this world. Our dying wish: I hope my kids and grandkids can have it better… make it better.
Maybe it’s time for an evolutionary change. Let our young children rule the world with the oldest generation as their guide. The rest of us between the age of of 13 and 70 are not allowed to touch anything. We are only along for the ride until we can behave.
the well so deep, yesterday
not so much today
to fill the pit beneath me
light is like words
encouraging yet thin
but your hand
it breaks the stone
it clears the path
these wells that form
deep under foot
bored out by our own hands
when standing still too long
when night destroys the day
where life soon cools
and slowly turns to stone
alone in the well
it fills with atrophy and shame
the slightest push
the faintest shove
the stone it cannot form
we fill it in again
and hope momentum
carves a path instead
to my love
A warm glow fills the room with ambient life.
It dances it’s colorful song in abundance just outside my window.
I peer into the light.
My restless limbs heavy as I turn.
My dreams all but faded into the subconscious.
The light beckons as it burns.
The sound of my heart broken by a passing train.
How did I get here again?
I have known the darkest places in my mind.
Felt life slipping away.
Held death in it’s last breath in my arms.
How is it the finest of threads holds so strong?
Unseen in this darkest of places.
It is not my heart that hurts, but my soul.
Even in her smile, her laughter, her love
… darkness consumes.
Holding on to this little white pill.
Is it for me?
Or is it for society?
It’s what we do until the universe claims it’s ground.
Until the weight of life is so faint, gravity pulls it beneath the waves.
This song is not about the living.
Nor these words a burden to bare.
Some are ghosts among us.
Some are the art and scars we carry deep inside our soul.
The most beautiful woman in the world is not the one with a sash or crown.
She is not the one with a perfect body or the nicest cloths.
She is not the most popular or even the most graceful.
She is the woman you love and the one who loves you for who you are.
Alone in a room
Slow Down, the melancholy of Radiohead
Wholefoods, Mac-n-cheese offending my wallet
Joyous, my tongue tastes organic cheeses melted
Eyes dead set in a window
Cold in a well heated room
Bustling city, this inclement day has your attentions
Holiday of me
A self imposed joy of the lonely
Ink on the cards still wet with passing thoughts
Check it again
If you call debts on paper bills
I call them words of remembrance
I am not forgotten
Do you remember her name
I do now
She lived in a house in a abandoned field where children played
She was sitting in a room alone too
Ice Cream for young visitors
They are all grown
Fields long since paved
Cars driving by none the wiser
Quiet comes late at night
I’m still sitting
I have none
Some wounds run too deep.
The sounds of cracking bones or the words of petty fools.
I cannot see the scars.
Time has washed them clear.
I cannot feel the shot.
The bullets have long since been removed.
When all I ever wanted was to run away.
Deep in the forests of my own thoughts.
Freedom from the antagonists.
Freedom from myself.
All I ever wanted was to be me.
Life was simpler back then.
Hide, stay low, avoid the common path.
The reward is pain.
Blend in the shadows.
The consequence is absence of pain.
Shadows are made of fear.
Year after year the jungle of pain and shadow.
Starving for something lost in my dreams.
Eating pain to give to the shadows.
Everything is living.
Except for me.
Back to old tricks.
The mirror holds truths for me to see each day.
Shadows in my eyes.
Old habits never die.
Dreams are just dreams.
No closer to being me.
Hiding from the pain.
It lives within me now.
So I do the only thing I know how.
The heart doth surely bleed and the soul shall weep it’s lonely death.
Life is a tear in the eyes of the universe.
If only one could see.
Let open your mind.
Your heart shall never die.
I think I am getting ready to become unhinged
Sour notes struck across ill-tuned strings
This wound stuck deep
Enough to fester
Not enough to kill
Slowly bleeding out caustic anxiety
No words for they sting caustic on my flesh
Touch me and launch a thousand evils out of hell
Condescending your lack of faith
Do you see my gaze
It burns your effigy
Do you feel my tongue
Striking out a cord of razor and barb
This corner you’ve backed me in to
This dark place of directions set in flight
Walls made to contain a raging furnace
A crumbling foundation set to topple
How much longer
How much further
Push me off this ledge
Our fate rests in careless ways