I fill my lungs
with the air of my ancestors
knowing my purpose
is their peace.
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I fill my lungs
with the air of my ancestors
knowing my purpose
is their peace.
How curious it is that I
no longer beg or question why
but rather like the naked eye
accepts the sky is blue—
with honesty and strength that I’ve
been granted through these tales of time
woven as one as you are I
accepts the ancient truth,
for like the moon and sun decide
to shed or shield eternal light
with arms spread thin wide opened eye
keep mine closed now to see,
what beauty lies beyond the pine
is neither up to you nor I
it’s always been like time gone by
regardless of the proof—
in truth it’s curious that I
could feel so pure estranged from life
whose meadow in the golden light
is heaven here on earth.
Make my bed
Spread the sheets
They are white
They are clean
There’s a nestle of bird
Who sing softly and sweet
There are bills
To be paid
Overdrafts
To be made
But I’m conscious today
Knowing that rot can wait
I have given enough love, I’ve wrestled with the thought
Spared quarters like rain to a cynical saint
I’ve got no time to spare
All this death in the air
Has me feeling quite good, transcendentally great
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
I’ve no cross to bear climbing trees and it’s clear
That I
start to see past
The sun and moon
The sky opens up
There’s nothing left to do
This closure’s my mantra to you.
Wash my face
Clean my teeth
Knock on wood
Once a week
There’s a pub inn Philly
Where I dug my own grave
Comb the depths
Of your hair
Try and act
Like you care
I’ve been watching your play
Mixing tonic with pain
You have given enough love, so much work to be done
Put your suitcases down, for a while and remain
Like a park bench in autumn
Or leaves that have fallen
I’ve got proof there’s a cure, you just gotta find yours
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
It’s a tale to be told, when you’re young and your bold
And now I’ve
Got to go back
To the way I was before
And now you’ve
Got to go back
To the way you were before
This closure’s my mantra to you.
Whenever
I am here
I am freedom’s
many son.
I am open
and aware
now
of my choice.
I think I’d rather not
I mean ok
Let me walk a block
Get my thoughts straight
Try and help out
Make you feel great
If this was high school
Basket case.
I think I’d like that
I mean no don’t
If you bite back
I could go home
Take my shoes off
Draw a warm bath
Some use a toaster
Here I’ll right back.
Got a new job
Got a new face
Got some new friends
To help replace
No that ain’t right
I mean ok
It’s a bad trip
Depends what you take.
Is that a sick joke
Or the new wave
Is that a cut throat
Or a switchblade
Is this real life
Or a showcase
No one can hurt you
Just be brave.
Had a dog once
His name was courage
He could sense pain
Like a surgeon
One day I woke up
He had broken
His chain and ran off
But that’s the breaks kid.
See the sunshine
And the bus stop
See the shadows
And the rooftops
Even your grumpy
Great grandpa
Smiles sometimes
Don’t last long.
So if you feel bad
Just know I like you
If you feel sad
I’ll feel sad too
We’ll sing a singalong
In a sad room
Kid it’s ok
To feel blue too.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
he doesn’t do with rifle or
fight with claims to settle scores
though prisoner he’d been before.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his words like steel are sharp and coarse
no fluff or zeal just fond remorse
for those who buried their loved and more.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his style’s frank no either or
like shrapnel strikes straight to the core
if death must come than make it pure.
When Vonnegut takes shots at war
his battle’s fought with valor worn
like Stars and Stripes and bones ashore
still “so it goes” forevermore.
broken leaves at sundown
set fire to the trees
drinking from the heavens
of nature’s crystal spring
yellow jacket bumbling
curious honey bees
as blades of grass we tango
bound for eternity
Awake now
on my back
thumbing through
Kerouac
rattle-tat-tat goes the rain…
While the birds chit
and others chat
another day’s here
Oh, what’s that Jack?
ho-hum-mum
FAWAP!
This life’s a beautiful disaster penned one summer long ago
I mean who was I kidding just a kid on the East Coast
So I took my car and drove off found myself out on the road
I was so sure I was different but so scared of letting go
Had this girl her name was pure like it was written in the stars
I first met her in the backseat of my good friends mother’s car
And I don’t quite know how it happened tangled alone in the dark
But she showed me true compassion for a badly broken heart
And if you ever saw the way her fingers danced upon my hand
Love’s an infinite reminder I just couldn’t understand
She was beautiful regardless of the way things had to end
I’m just happy to have seen her grown and happy as a friend
Somewhere before and after I had lost my innocence
Was a child when I said come on let’s go what’s happening
Like a judge biting my tongue so long held on to my defense
Till one day it all poured out like a volcano from my head
You talk too much don’t talk enough try this paper and pen
I think that it’ll help to write it down is what she said
And of course guess what it happened but this time in a kitchen
We were kindred drunk and carefree at first sight I do admit
I wasn’t looking for a lover in retrospect needed a friend
But that’s the way it happens Cupid’s always looking in
When she took me without question I knew something had to give
Had more talent in her pinky than I swear I ever did
And she tried hard to convince me I was good at fitting in
Still my anger got the best of me and then the fear to live
See it took 6 months of depression just to make one decision
I would have should have could have now son that’s no way to live
I thought if I just disappear perhaps I’d be no one’s burden
But learned life is a disaster that you somehow have to live
So I packed my bags one day and gave myself unto the wind
Hell I’ve been kicking rocks forever so I’m hella used to it
See there’s no way of ever knowing how tomorrow’s gonna end
You just get up brush your hair and then go do it again
Still love’s an infinite reminder I’ve tried so hard to understand
It always makes more sense when you’re left with empty hands
Like a psychic I am reading all the lines riddles and man
I can see it all so clearly first accept yourself and then
Maybe you get lucky one day in Central Park
Or perhaps while spilling coffee on a stranger after dark
There’s a reason for each season as one ends one’s soon to start
It only takes a moment kiddo ready on your mark
Perhaps we could each
bring blankets to the park
sit far enough apart
so that our shadows can lie
together in the sun
—pure and untouched—
like before we knew
each other’s name.