Don’t let Fear and Family
Turn you away
From Love and Humanity.
Monthly Archives: August 2020
Smoke signals in the distance
If you need me I’ll be shit faced
What I mean is I’ll be drunk
I’ll be one among the many few
Who’ve had it with this stuff
What I mean is life in general
And habits to abhor
What I mean are people’s cycles
Like children wanting more
If you need me I’ll be blacked out
What I mean is I’ll be gone
Away from all the hear say
Far from the Wall Of Moms
What I mean is I’ll be silent
What I mean is I’ll be cured
Less sheep among the megaphone
It’s best not to be heard
If you need me I’ll be nameless
What I mean is I’ll be safe
No profit ever profited
From showing off his face
What I mean is Martin Luther King
What I mean is Malcolm X
What I mean is they will kill you
Like that guy from Nazareth
If I need you which I won’t
Look North among the pine
Smoke signals in the distance
Will tell you I am fine
But just in case you need me
I assure you that you won’t
What I mean is here’s another post
No one will ever boast
What I mean is that which serves you
Serves you and you alone
What I mean is followers in time
Will leave you to the crows.
How do I write a good book?
“How do I write a good book?” He asks.
“Read a lot of books.” I tell him. “And…
“And what?” He presses.
“Remove the word good from your vocabulary.”
Shrugging, he digs, “and replace it with what?”
“Whatever’s wrong with the world, my friend.”
“I’m listening…”
And upon waving him farewell.
“A book worth reading isn’t always easy
but it’s worth the effort.”
I see everything at once
Staring into space
I see everything at once
No matter who you’re born
When you’re done
You are done.
When Butterflies Were Band-aids
Look me in my heartache
And tell me there’s a cure
When butterflies were band-aids
Where fact and fiction blur
Speak to me in virtues
The one’s I’m pickled for
When only field’s were diamonds
And playgrounds left you sore
Hold me in your sorrow
With hands so soft and pure
When bedtime meant tomorrow
Was absolutely sure
Hear me as the willows
Send shivers down your spine
When fluff was just for pillows
Where wonder’s in the pine
Sense me in my mourning
For those yet to be fed
When fear meant it was pouring
Where Rover was still red
Send prayers if you still got em
Though mine have long since fled
This well’s filled from the bottom
Where sailboats are led
your conscience
I was this
I was that
I was—rat-a-tat-tat—
Who’s there?
Who’s knocking, oh
Welcome back Jack!
You are here
Door’s open
Let’s have a chit-chat
I am great
I am grand
I am—rat-a-tat-tat—
A friend?
Who’s there?
Who’s knocking at my nerves?
It’s me, your conscience
I am here to serve
You not what you have been
Or whatever you were
I am here as your guide
I am honest
I am pure
My fragile mind
It’s hard sometimes to go outside
So I wear this hat, it makes me feel cool
It’s hard sometimes to pass the time
So I write these prose inside my fragile mind
No they’re not for you
No they’re not for you
No they’re not for you
They’re for me
Like an eggshell cracks so do I
What spills out is just membrane and time
I know we’re all the same, you and I
This was just another from my fragile mind
No they’re not for you
No they’re not for you
No they’re not for you
They’re for me
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
Taylor calls for me from those stairs in Italy
I’m walking by a pay phone on the beach
Reminders from the East and a girl named Cicily
Talk me into circles out of reach
Send letters won’t you son to remind us what you’ve done
Don’t be a stranger call us once a week?
I buried what was left of my heartache in a trench
On that lonesome stretch of sand I was released
Now Bret he reads the lines in the background of my mind
There’s no one in this room to hear me sing
When journaling in thought feels like a raven’s claw
It’s Taylor who sits calmly next to me
The grass rests underneath her cheekbone by the sea
While chemicals channel flowing dreams
It’s 8am in August while I pour the gin and tonic
Listening to the ocean’s cresting wave
The cobblestone in Rome for which once walked me home
Now Cicily I hear her gently speak
There’s no such thing as time, if you believe that then that’s fine
But darling I’ve got no tears left to weep
I did my best to please the priest listening to me
Still Lucas rest assured me of my grief
I didn’t have to sail to France to find a girl to dance
I just went out every night for one last drink
So now as Taylor calls to me from those stairs in Italy
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
I pick her up once more from memory
I play my part as she sings me to sleep
Leaves they fall in autumn
Everyone has problems
More elaborate than my own
Like these they fall in autumn
Their limbs are all exposed
I want to tell them something
Assure they’re not alone
Still leaves they fall in autumn
Sometimes to live you’ve got to die.
Some say the world’s worth saving
Some say we’ll never know
Like a corn cob pipe and button
Left in the melting snow
A fireplace can warm you
For a while from the cold
Still a child holds his coal eyes
And now he knows.
It’s not his fault that his friend must go
Either way he’s gonna cry
You’re beautiful so it’s logical
This season’s just a state of mind
If I could save you, you know I would
But even I know that’s a lie
See summers change and then grow cold
It’s no longer up to me to decide
An all too common feeling
I can’t explain the reason
I end up in this place
Each page another season
Aware there is no race
The end of new beginnings
Perhaps I’ll save some face
An all too common feeling
This one I can’t explain
At times it leaves me reeling
At times it leaves me faint
At times it can be healing
Most times it’s a disgrace
Perhaps what leaves me stuck in
This all too common place
Are shadows in this doorframe
The one’s I can’t erase
Words Of An Average White Male 