It’s much easier to lie
in the afternoon light,
steady’s the humming
bird that takes flight.
Oh whispering wind
forgive me tonight,
how flirting with death
has been a delight.
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The Road Between
Sometimes all there is to do is drive
and drive, and drive, and drive until
you forget to where you’re going,
you forget from where you came,
and you remember there’s no difference
except the road which lies between.
And when you don’t got the wheels
or means or place to stay
you walk, and walk, and walk until
it all makes sense enough to go away.
And you remember not to worry so much
as in all walks of eternity
you’re a part of this one, and the heartache
pain and blame is all just slapstick.
It’s a grand ole comedy of magic and men
who’d drown before they’d ever dive in.
So the next time I, see-you-me,
I hope we’re swimming in the Milky Way!
Travelers through time and time forgot,
our elephant minds remember.
Our Current Social Dilemma
We went from public displays of affection
Straight to public displays of everything
Now leaving nothing to the imagination
Embracing it all, then apologizing for it after.
It’s like some convoluted social stream of consciousness
That forms a figure eight of disingenuous pandering
One which tastes to a choir of social unrest
Like change, its value null, when in reality it’s all just
As sad and dull as high school sex.
The Other Type Of Feeling
You know that feeling?
The excitement you get when you see someone
And that someone’s a stranger
A stranger creeping up on the ground itself
Cautious and casual as not to disturb the air
And they think they’re not being watched
Yet secretly hoping that they are, because
What they’re creeping towards, they believe
Is gold, mercury, or an ancient artifact
An artifact no one but them has discovered
Or ever will—first—in their own time,
And in that moment you get excited too
Except you get excited for a different reason
And when their discovery turns to a shameful frown of defeat
Your lips turn upward towards the sky
Chuckling to yourself, kind of happy, kind of sad
Yet you understand enough to feel commradery
Wishing that stranger was your friend
Just so you could kick em in the pants
the bliss of ego-manic thought
There’s something happening when
There’s nothing left to lose—
The apple of the eye
Is begging for the truth—
I admit, it’s possible but
The language that we use—
To disengage, it’s all the same
Our fears of being used.
There’s something distinct in the
Absence of yourself—
Like when you manifest
Your love in someone else—
He’ll seem incapable but
The patterns that you choose—
To disengage, it’s all the same
Our fears of being used.
Now there’s a sinner and saint on the corner of the block
One’s got a rifle in hand believing that he’s God
They’re both wrapped warm in the bliss of ego-manic thought
To disengage, it’s all the same
Believing that it’s not.
Destiny Awaits
To some today’s today.
To others, today’s a destiny.
Funny eh!
Funny eh!
How when you put yourself to sleep
like a baby, you sleep like a baby…
The Raven
The Raven waits
My answer’s no
Then leaves me with
His knowledge
Being Yourself
People always wanted you to be yourself,
except when you did, well
they didn’t like it all that much.
The Solution.
I accept
I am
The problem.
Therefore
I am
The solution.
