Nothing’s easy Nothing’s free

Nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

No one’s ever happy

Unless another’s on their knees

Try your best to feel fine

Try your best to speak

Someone’s always coming round

With the answer like a creep

Cause nothing’s ever easy

Nothing’s ever free

Take two for your headache

Take five just to fall asleep

Try your best to ration

Try your best to feed

The world’s always been hungry

We’ve always had food to eat

Cause nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

But son if you are honest

It’s there you’ll start to see

Words can fuel an army

Where the hells that apostrophe?

Dialect can save you

What’s left is up to me

In silence there is virtue

Inside you learn to breathe

No matter where life takes you

No matter who you meet you’ll see

Nothing’s ever easy

And nothing’s ever free

In the house I keep

In the house I keep each wall shall be

A coloring book for poetry

Where colors burst in harmony

Where war and peace succumb to paint.

In the house I keep each window sill

Shall only bear the daylight spill

Where succulents hang with free will

Where laughter’s never faint.

In the house I keep each lock will turn

With open ended thoughts to churn

Where no one line deserves to burn

Where honesty is quaint.

But when fear knocks in the house I keep

There will be no reason for which to weep

My hands dipped well within relief

Each wall we’ll finger paint.

In the house I keep my only wish

To deserve and serve this simple dish

Where forks and knives grow strong and rich

Where no wall goes untouched.

oh well, oh well. (LOL)

Sometimes I feel like an object of desire.

Sometimes I feel like a down right cruel liar.

Sometimes I feel like nothing ever is

all that bad until then reality hits.

Sometimes I feel sad when you’re away.

Sometimes I feel glad like it’s all the same.

Sometimes I feel like a sad sack sucking up

to the kid with the cool hair that I want.

I don’t know man I guess only time can tell

where we go and when it’s time to give em hell

I just hope that I have the strength to talk

when it comes time to talk who’s gonna walk the walk?

Sometimes it’s all just too much to think about.

Get a real job, good career kid now settle down.

Don’t make your grandmother worry make your mother proud,

even though well hell she’s gonna love you any way.

Sometimes I feel like I’ve got it figured out.

Sometimes I feel like a widow black with doubt.

Sometimes I feel like throwing it all away

if I could just hold out perhaps another day.

Sometimes I feel like Times Square counting down.

Sometimes I feel like a cliche riddled clown.

Sometimes I feel like nothing ever is

but I know better than, but I know better now.

I don’t know man I think you gotta see this through

either way we end up free alone entombed

do you remember sleeping in the afternoon

cause I do I do I do I did and I still do…

Sometimes it makes sense like I’m a wishing well

today it breaks my heart to have to wish you well

tomorrow I won’t lie I won’t be feeling well

then after that who knows I guess

oh well, oh well.

3:08

3:08

and I’m happy.

Not the smiling sort of

tell-all happy but

the breathing in the moonlight

kind of easiness,

just being, barely conscious

and willing to be free.

And

it’s 3:12 now

and shit,

you know how it goes.

Walking among Redwoods

I never stood a chance in the landscape of her eyes

that green mountain range overlooking cloudy skies

but I walked a long while to get to where I’ve been

and I’ll walk a little longer regardless of the wind.

Is it better to escape like a dove into the light

or give into the darkness which creeps in from the night?

There’s something in the hills, either way I’m headed down

as I stream into the valley, with the current I am now

free from all the heartache, I barely make a sound

with the roots of the sequoia among the ancient ground.

a beacon

There must be something better

than living in this state

like a free floating feather

I must be on my way

it just took me some time

like Jenny on the run

through city lights, a heroine

to forest I have come

to recognize the stars

on a boat far out at sea

floating through the sky

my legs have taken leave,

and behind all of the people

I’ve passed along the way

is a shining light, a ray of hope

a beacon to this day.

Her beauty

Her beauty was ultimately marred
by my incessant need for her beauty.

I wished to tell her she need not try so hard,
though knew this to be, ultimately futile.

I even coaxed her with a juicy red apple once,
just to slow her down.

But she explained fairly how she didn’t like apples,
or huntsman, but preferred mirrors

because they spoke to her in words
that were not forced but honest.

She looked at me and asked, is it so hard for a frog to see her beauty could never have the power to transform anything more than its own fading?

And that no kiss could stop time,
that fairy tales are real, but only the Grimm ones.

Let me show you, she said, and taking my lips in hers, sweet like berries

I watched her turn to dust through the stained glass light of morning.