I fill my lungs
with the air of my ancestors
knowing my purpose
is their peace.
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Rain Shower Souls
What happened to that rain shower soul?
The sun’s still shining but where did it go?
And all those sidewalk chalk talking dreams
came loose like a button torn at the seams.
What happened to that day dream tune?
The song’s still playing but how bout you?
And all those streetlight coffee shop blues
aligned like the sun eclipsed by the moon.
Did it help to regret all that came too soon?
Like skipped rocks reflect rippled waters in June?
Cause that honey was sweet so I tasted it all
aware that no one dear could break this fall.
Did it help to indulge in the depths of the Eve?
If Adam were blind don’t you think he’d still see?
Cause more often than not two stars in the sky
do cross one another in the blink of an eye.
What a trip to be youthful, dramatic and bold
To walk just a block with those rain shower souls
But age without reason can make you quite old
I’ve stitched my last button, when you’re ready I’ll go.
Heaven here on earth.
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.
Artistic illusions
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.
freedom’s many son.
Whenever
I am here
I am freedom’s
many son.
I am open
and aware
now
of my choice.
it’s ok to feel blue too.
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
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.
If Hemingway was here today
If Hemingway
was here today
would he Instagram
his catch?
And dare you say
that Hemingway
was rotgut—
his defense?
Out on the bay
he’d fish and say
what pleasures
have a man?
His slow decay
here but a day
come then let’s see your stance!
Put up your dukes
and lace your boots,
a fight? No sir
let’s dance!
infinite visions.
This feeling hangs like ancient fog
over tree limbs lined by new day dawn
where single filed ants march on
the air is still as new born fawn.
His heart beats infinite visions.
a beautiful life
It is one of youth’s greatest gifts to be
confused and curious and dangerous.
It is also one of maturity’s great gifts to be
dangerous and curious and confused.
So consider me curious as to why
those dangerous days, strung out and confused
could seem so simple to me now?
Here in the arms of infinite light
you will see that darkness soon enough
and I hope you’ll identify it as: a beautiful life.
Words Of An Average White Male 