In
Sigh, out.
In
Sigh, out.
Breathing roundabout.
Nothing left to do,
I've refuted unfirm views.
And half my brain sits silent,
Like a child with a slapped hand.
And the other side is waiting
For him to come around.
'Cause no longer can he tell himself,
I can do it all alone.
And the child sits around,
Thinking himself unwatched.
Reflecting on happier childish moments,
Printed indelibly in the past.
And my other side waits,
As patiently as the wisest of men,
Waiting for the child to put away his toys,
And take this wrinkled wise old man,
By the hand down the path of life.
It's sinking
It's sinking
We had our pick but we
already knew it's sinking
sinking
We gotta jam on something new
Doesn't make sense to work
for anything but today.
I can't help that it's all
getting blown away..
Can only help myself,
leave me alone - I'm thinking
thinking
The peculiar moment,
a feeling just in reach - then fleeing,
Swept along by the next
less patient notion.
Gone and soon forgotten, like others.
But each is captured still, if just in
fragments, and tucked away.... to
nudge the mind - should the
thought come around again.
Imagine the indecision
When such a feeling is a tremendous
breakthrough, an opening of a door
* a shining of light *
then fleeing.
Now searching, where it was before,
pursuing through a mist the start
of a path long hoped for.
Outdistanced, lost again
drifting, drifting
Let the current carry me where it will
and soon I'll wash upon the shore
and start again.
So many feelings in me
That some might say have died
But I say they're in storage
In time they'll be revived.
They're hid away neglected
By days of busy work
They're in there by the memory
Of a love now only hurt
Whispering late night solitude
Thoughts a quiet stream
Past embrace revisited
The moment now a dream
I wonder now what it is
That tears the folks apart
A moment's unclear urgency
That leaves a yearning heart
We run away confused to hide
And seperate out hearts and minds
Cherishing the light inside
And the good we've left behind
Life blood feeling deep inside
Nourish me each time I cry
You are the joy that gives life birth
You are all that gives life worth
So like a flood it will come out
So naturally, so fine
I know it shouldn't take forever
I wish it happened all the time
To live is just to be
In all simplicity
an ear to hear the whispers
an eye to see the subtleties
a nose to catch the gentle fragrences
a hand to feel the tenderness
To live is to know
the silence
the darkness
the emptiness
So that all that falls upon your senses
Becomes your food for life.
Like falling leaves
the days drift before my eyes,
Carried on the wind as is their destiny.
Down paths of random choice,
Toward the sound of an aged voice,
That reminds me of the sea.
Resting now, awaiting
That chill that autumn brings
The fitfull rest that's winter's rest
Before we wake again
MARY, SO SAD YOU HAD TO GO
The early autumn moon rose, past full,
to the east our eyes she'd gently pull.
Tired from the month long chore,
her weary face hung down,
her last breath waits no more.
Her leaving served no cause,
except to make those pause,
Who forget that life is frail
and what their acts entail.
Young one parted now
the risk was clear to thou?
Far off the army of giants edge forth
across the sky
Each crowding to peer above the other
Massive, grim
Silent save the occasional crash of a random bolt
Sentinals of the cold wet misty night,
No crevice or hollow unbeknownst to the ever searching
icy fingers of your passion's breath.
Gasps which leap up through the cracks of our abode at the
chance to join their trapped brethren in battle cry
when the giants march.
And thus the tempest rage, and none too comfortable the
creatures left naked to the fury.
But fresh done the battle thrust, the world is new and
quenched, and all asmell with the richest fragerences,
and looking up at the retreating victors, spy we the
brilliant banner of nature's greatest triumph.
Like a child
perched percariously
on the edge of a
magnificant canyon,
we stand stolidly
on the firmness
of our beliefs
Oh, how suddenly things change sometimes,
In ways you least expect,
Your life rearranged completely
By a thing so indirect.
One thing is removed
And something takes its place,
No longer there around you
Just the memory of a face.
Could it be I'ld feel like this
Without his leaving us?
Would I have taken the time
To think it through enough?
I try to sit and ask nyself
Just how I've really changed.
Then I look inside myself,
Is anything the same?
I'm sure that I am stronger now
To speak the way I feel,
And the things that folks don't think about
I will notice and reveal.
Feather like those words fell upon my ears
she spoke about
Feelings no words could tell.
Silent-awed I hear her
with my eyes.
Stretching unbent rays
of crimson light
Slowly sweep a room
in twilight
Briefly casting a day
on a cobweb in the corner
We look, both seeing this,
at each other
Thus casting light on the corners
of each other's minds.
Cycles come and cycles go,
Each one has its own to show.
Each one means a lesson learned,
Should that be of your concern.
Sometimes chances pass you by,
Other times you let them fly.
Either way I'm sure you know,
Paths of these your life will go.
So learn to fly, keep your smile,
Afloat in peace all the while.
And all the times that get you down,
Know of times to come around.
Cycles come and cycles go,
Each one has its own to show.
And no man knows the paths you go,
They are all your own to show.
Sail on my son, upon your feathered wings
Your soul too young to grasp such earthy things
Deep I breathe the autumn air
So rich the peace that's lying there
And as I trod the fallen leaves
I feel a slightly cooler breeze
Gold leaves falling,
winter calling
Fledgling stream spills past
the mossy rock
Young elk roaming
river foaming
I read the slanting sun
that's nature's clock
On I move to warmer ground
Until that sacred place I've found
That feeds the soul and tender heart
And finds me safe at winter's start
Like somber subtle summer colors
The sunsets flutter down before our eyes
Reluctant trembling specks of brilliant autumn hues
Relinquish life in one silent swooping gesture
Of life's uncertain praise
Then why that one moment
Of lingering indecision,
As if it mattered
If you went one way or the other?
Long upon the shining sea
Not cloud or saving ship did appear
For days
Uncertain drifting flotsam, what great tribute
does the contribution of your life bring
to those less fortunate than you?
Not, I presume, great solace.
For by nature we reap only what we sew,
And to quench even the meagerest of appetites,
much toil does ensue.
And not, I presume, the answer to the question
of our destiny,
for that it appears is an enigma
to be relentlessly pursued by the generations
as endless fodder for intellectual growth.
Then it could only be
to prove that each life
is fulfillment in itself,
each soul redeemed to the ideal it pursues.
No matter how far I go to get away, I am still trapped, held captive by the bars of my sub-conscious. The radio tries to console me, but she sings to too many and does not sing to me. I look around, but the world stares back in black and white - uninterested. Those who try and understand me now only create their own chaos, and beg of me for assistance. But I cannot help, there are no words to tell.
I ask myself what will help - and I know. She doesn't know I watch her, or think of her now and then. Is it her I need, or is this some longing pulling at my chest? I surround myself with things to ease my mind, but these are mere trinkets in the eyes of a rich and mighty king. My mood is desolate, my mind too solemn to harbor such emotions. But as my thoughts travel the paths of a thouseand adjectives, another shadow enters my mind. Slow and oh so quiet to my thoughts, sleep once again weaves itself among my consciousness. And as only the dim light from the deepest reaches of my brain illuminate my thoughts, I am free from the tortures of worry until once again I open my blurred eyes to the loveless problems awaiting me outside.
Sleep, Sun
silent slumber.
Leaving us old friend
just briefly,
to see things by our own light.
We see ourselves enlightened
when our soul shines
as bright within us
as you do all around.
Alas, much as these clouds obscure you,
so do these notions that often close us in.
Fog away! Bring forth the shining day!
Forever left untouched -
upturned this stone
by the plowshare
A world suddenly changed,
The womb of Mother Earth
laid fresh
New hope of ours for spring
Emblazened waters
yielding to the patient stones
on which we watch day's end
Like dice, strange things are cast
upon the velvet sand by waves
that endless play this game
Thankful for the bliss that comes
with scenes like this, and love
We can, the pain before, forget
and see the days ahead with none
Tender lady, your love so sweet
With eyes that see things not skin deep
And in your heart you hold a song
I know you'll sing your whole life long
For a moment the evening wavered
Then settled into dusk
Thus so day's vigil passed
To nightime's shadowy trust
Timidly the sounds of night
Joined in humble chorus
And the flicker of the firelight
Threw shadows all around us
The juniper and pine trees
The crickets and the deer
Each knows a seperate happiness
And each a secret fear
Words never found still lost
Only can describe
What my soul has cost
The tears now in my eyes
I turned to what I thought
a simple act of love
My head hangs low
My back now shows
To the things I still hold true
Mumbled sounds drift in from the hall, not disrupting but capturing shorter attention spans. It isan inconsistant sound, not like the fixed pitch of the teacher's voice. It is a casual chorus of laughs and mumbles, giggles and shouts.
And through that hole in the wall, out of the corner of my eye, flash a kalidescope of colors, back and forth they move at no set pulse. But the brilliant colors seem to appear with the giggles and bird like chirps, and the duller, less reflecting hues with the grunts and bursting basso laughs.
Every now and then, a whole crowd of jovial people meander past the door, all but drowning out the teacher. Thus, for a few short moments, the class is cut off, like a neighborhood without electricity, until it is quiet, and the class, caught half sleeping, returns their attention up front.
In the rain, and the bright
of that street corner light
Outside the bar where the night people go,
Stands a man all alone
not feeling the cold
Wishing his feet could take flight.
In his heart is that spark
which just right might ignite
Flames of passion which fuel the heart,
But on nights like these
girls like damp leaves
Smother and leave be the fire.
Gone what never was,
Arrived what always has been.
Before, the way to get here,
To come the way to leave.
A life of daily functioning,
Mathematic prose.
Lacking none but one thing,
The love it never knows.
Mechanical yet caring,
Tender though encased.
A nobel heart combating
Self-inflicted waste.
Like a painting,
so delicately rendered in watercolors
are my dreams
So beautiful and dear to me
Now rained on and suddenly
run and faded,
undistinguishable
From the dreary miseries
I try to chase away.
In those hills above the sand
We watched the last time as the
sun went down on back then.
Those times shared together
With those friends of ours
so widely spread about now.
Four corners to the seven seas
- so lost upon thee -
Cast upon the fruitful shores
the now.