Our lives, so filled with stone
built by honor ridden gentle souls
but still on sand
and who'll atone?
ever sinking, always reeking of a history with no mystery.
From where we've come, we're bound to grow
yet we've come home with no gifts for a king with no throne.
And who'll atone?
For a smile like reaching,
a grip like teaching
the sad way the wind learned its name;
blowing down the tree that said it.
and who'll atone?
For the end of the echo that gives sound sight.
when you remember you are forgetting, drink deep of the stillness
and wash your mist away.
and you'll atone.
Friday, September 1, 2017
Living proof (high again)
here I sit, high again.
Letting time float by again.
Saying "this is the last one" and when
did it ever begin?
When did I let the cement pour in?
How did I let it take hold? with what does it fill my mold and why under the sky is there no will that can go boldly where no mind has flown?
No kisses blown in glass could match the shatter of the match that sparks the fire in the chest that seems to beat for nothing less than the best of my being.
Yet for fear of seeing, for fear of becoming fully empowered, i blur my vision.
Is that a field or single flowers?
Is it real or Babyl's towers?
Is this life nothing but a shower in our day to day ritual?
Are even my friends habitual?
If I exposed my truest mouth would their love remain continual?
I see nothing spiritual in a cave on a mountain.
alone and enlightened.
friends only with the fountain of youth.
Without draining my veins of their truth, I'd like to grow branches, I'd like to grow roots!
I'd like to make floors where I once thought were roofs!
I'm done with dead evidence,
Make me living proof!
Letting time float by again.
Saying "this is the last one" and when
did it ever begin?
When did I let the cement pour in?
How did I let it take hold? with what does it fill my mold and why under the sky is there no will that can go boldly where no mind has flown?
No kisses blown in glass could match the shatter of the match that sparks the fire in the chest that seems to beat for nothing less than the best of my being.
Yet for fear of seeing, for fear of becoming fully empowered, i blur my vision.
Is that a field or single flowers?
Is it real or Babyl's towers?
Is this life nothing but a shower in our day to day ritual?
Are even my friends habitual?
If I exposed my truest mouth would their love remain continual?
I see nothing spiritual in a cave on a mountain.
alone and enlightened.
friends only with the fountain of youth.
Without draining my veins of their truth, I'd like to grow branches, I'd like to grow roots!
I'd like to make floors where I once thought were roofs!
I'm done with dead evidence,
Make me living proof!
Change
Change?
Change!
Who fear change?
You fear change?
not my name and its not your game I know!
Into the stream and beyond the dream we're just going with the flow.
See it only takes two pence to pay the rent and still make some cents of it all
I'll be the last one still standing cuz I'm the last one afraid to fall
down
down
to the ground spin around and start to dig.
it's a lot less easy to greet yourself than it is to take a swig but
STOP.
Drop it and roll with the punches.
I'd like to transport to a time before mommy made packed lunches and blew kisses through kitchen windows.
To a moment, my dear, to make it clear that this is the crescendo!
All of eternity has led into this flow!
yet where did it go?
The peak to this valley?
The mind can remember the mountaintop so it tries to ditch this sudden drop and live in its own reality.
Of what ifs? of shoulds, of shoudln't be's and soon it has taken the reigns from me and steered me to places no eye can see and damnit all!
this isn't me.
So I'll puff it up and try to hide, and toss one back and deep inside
escape
escape
escaping this present moment.
*Please hold for the next available brainwave.
When did this entity become this brain's slave!?
What did I allow to enter me?
What is it that appears to be behind the eyes and between the ears of the body which simply steers it?
And why does it fear the real and near while longing for the far and distant?
Its like:
here it comes!
There it is!
There it goes i just missed it.
Change!
Who fear change?
You fear change?
not my name and its not your game I know!
Into the stream and beyond the dream we're just going with the flow.
See it only takes two pence to pay the rent and still make some cents of it all
I'll be the last one still standing cuz I'm the last one afraid to fall
down
down
to the ground spin around and start to dig.
it's a lot less easy to greet yourself than it is to take a swig but
STOP.
Drop it and roll with the punches.
I'd like to transport to a time before mommy made packed lunches and blew kisses through kitchen windows.
To a moment, my dear, to make it clear that this is the crescendo!
All of eternity has led into this flow!
yet where did it go?
The peak to this valley?
The mind can remember the mountaintop so it tries to ditch this sudden drop and live in its own reality.
Of what ifs? of shoulds, of shoudln't be's and soon it has taken the reigns from me and steered me to places no eye can see and damnit all!
this isn't me.
So I'll puff it up and try to hide, and toss one back and deep inside
escape
escape
escaping this present moment.
*Please hold for the next available brainwave.
When did this entity become this brain's slave!?
What did I allow to enter me?
What is it that appears to be behind the eyes and between the ears of the body which simply steers it?
And why does it fear the real and near while longing for the far and distant?
Its like:
here it comes!
There it is!
There it goes i just missed it.
Cena
I spoke with Cena today. Though that is not her real name.
her real name is the sunshine and the moon.
She spoke of the war, of the swelling house she and 40 other unwilling inhabitants shared. Body to body and wall to wall they were lined up, sized up, categorized and stripped.
Reduced to a number, typed on a card and filed away to be forgotten.
A hollowed out friend said through empty eyes, " all they want is everything. They will prod your hide and brand you like a sow, but keep your name, somehow. Give them anything but that. tell them you are Singat! yes, a girl from the jungle"
And that she did. Yet no sooner had she hid then did let her light slip, and one officer was hip to her game and accent.
"Get in my office and tell me exactly who you are!"
Red faced and red handed, young Cena was dragged to a cold steel room by the tune of her racing heart.
And she sat and she said.
With eyes like the moon of a brisk winter's night, with her hair as black as the pavement she would be buried under, with her open hands on the cold, chipped desk, she sat and she said.
Under armed escorts, above the fighting and beyond the smoking city. She sat and she said.
As she said, she thought of every missed opportunity, every lost brother and the charred remains of every dead mother.
Every minute spent powerless watching silhouettes strike silhouettes.
every lead-headed friend,
every fear and regret coursed through her unfed bones.
She cried out for release, giving it all back to these thieves.
With one final heave her tired soul screamed
MY NAME IS CENA!
though that is not her name.
her real name is the sunshine and the moon.
her real name is the sunshine and the moon.
She spoke of the war, of the swelling house she and 40 other unwilling inhabitants shared. Body to body and wall to wall they were lined up, sized up, categorized and stripped.
Reduced to a number, typed on a card and filed away to be forgotten.
A hollowed out friend said through empty eyes, " all they want is everything. They will prod your hide and brand you like a sow, but keep your name, somehow. Give them anything but that. tell them you are Singat! yes, a girl from the jungle"
And that she did. Yet no sooner had she hid then did let her light slip, and one officer was hip to her game and accent.
"Get in my office and tell me exactly who you are!"
Red faced and red handed, young Cena was dragged to a cold steel room by the tune of her racing heart.
And she sat and she said.
With eyes like the moon of a brisk winter's night, with her hair as black as the pavement she would be buried under, with her open hands on the cold, chipped desk, she sat and she said.
Under armed escorts, above the fighting and beyond the smoking city. She sat and she said.
As she said, she thought of every missed opportunity, every lost brother and the charred remains of every dead mother.
Every minute spent powerless watching silhouettes strike silhouettes.
every lead-headed friend,
every fear and regret coursed through her unfed bones.
She cried out for release, giving it all back to these thieves.
With one final heave her tired soul screamed
MY NAME IS CENA!
though that is not her name.
her real name is the sunshine and the moon.
been becoming
i have been the meanest
i have been too compliant
i have been a genius
and a far sighted giant.
A drop in the bucket.
i have been a hammer and rusty nail
a deck in the doldrums and a ship in full sail.
author by night and beggar by day.
tired musician and a song overplayed.
Doctor to some, jester to most.
i have been a student, teacher, and bar drunken host.
characters on a page,a letter never sent.
A ravenous lion lying by a sheep with nothing to repent.
i have been a gluttonous ascetic.
A yolk in its shell and a blind man threatening hell through a cloud of obscenities.
the amusing amenities and tried and true home remedies that soothe you, move in and through you.
i have been my own chains
My weights, measures, gains, fates.
Hope and despair.
I've been the exact point where they meet.
the eternal click of a foot in the street.
I have been a trillion grains of sand,
A broad ideal held in one hand.
the monogamist's plight, the feral fox fitted with a fast flight or fight for your right!
To be
i have been he,
alone in the sea of thoughtless decrees.
Plaques and decrees cant hide shaking knees knocked down to the valley floor beyond small men and their friends who've long since cut off their hair and connection
-i've been the quick interjection- a minor digression and some loaded protection for well worth pleasant affection i've been the present erection in the hands and glands of grandstands of fans over a burger comemrcial - oh.
Too controversial, this is fun for the family!
And now what a calamity i've made of this end.
i've been the bend of the back cover, the grad-lover, the bad brother, the knight and fallen rook.
i've been the end of the rhyme and the last word that it took.
i have been too compliant
i have been a genius
and a far sighted giant.
A drop in the bucket.
i have been a hammer and rusty nail
a deck in the doldrums and a ship in full sail.
author by night and beggar by day.
tired musician and a song overplayed.
Doctor to some, jester to most.
i have been a student, teacher, and bar drunken host.
characters on a page,a letter never sent.
A ravenous lion lying by a sheep with nothing to repent.
i have been a gluttonous ascetic.
A yolk in its shell and a blind man threatening hell through a cloud of obscenities.
the amusing amenities and tried and true home remedies that soothe you, move in and through you.
i have been my own chains
My weights, measures, gains, fates.
Hope and despair.
I've been the exact point where they meet.
the eternal click of a foot in the street.
I have been a trillion grains of sand,
A broad ideal held in one hand.
the monogamist's plight, the feral fox fitted with a fast flight or fight for your right!
To be
i have been he,
alone in the sea of thoughtless decrees.
Plaques and decrees cant hide shaking knees knocked down to the valley floor beyond small men and their friends who've long since cut off their hair and connection
-i've been the quick interjection- a minor digression and some loaded protection for well worth pleasant affection i've been the present erection in the hands and glands of grandstands of fans over a burger comemrcial - oh.
Too controversial, this is fun for the family!
And now what a calamity i've made of this end.
i've been the bend of the back cover, the grad-lover, the bad brother, the knight and fallen rook.
i've been the end of the rhyme and the last word that it took.
Cattle
Where do you go?
To a wolf's apartment or a sheep's department store?
where is the more hiding in you?
as I aim to push on through
riding rails, unfurling sails to let the wind get to you.
any shiver from a frozen wind, any quiver with an arrow's kin. You're the one who sees with eyes and feels without heart
isn't that a start?
with a locked heart and tied laces.
Covered in soot from climbing down chimneys and drowned in proposals of squeezing through garbage disposals to sneak a glimpse of the fire I let to give away.
Now I just get the spins to forget the grins and regrets of not dancing with the pine. This love like wine needs time to breathe out.
Yet the danger of seeing you turn to a stranger
is worth a hundred goodbyes.
To a wolf's apartment or a sheep's department store?
where is the more hiding in you?
as I aim to push on through
riding rails, unfurling sails to let the wind get to you.
any shiver from a frozen wind, any quiver with an arrow's kin. You're the one who sees with eyes and feels without heart
isn't that a start?
with a locked heart and tied laces.
Covered in soot from climbing down chimneys and drowned in proposals of squeezing through garbage disposals to sneak a glimpse of the fire I let to give away.
Now I just get the spins to forget the grins and regrets of not dancing with the pine. This love like wine needs time to breathe out.
Yet the danger of seeing you turn to a stranger
is worth a hundred goodbyes.
Find me
In the sounds of your fingers rubbing together, I am there.
In the heat of a heart's introduction, I am the stare.
In the first bite of buttered toast, I am the crunch.
In the angst of a first love's kiss, I am the after climax bliss in the drunkenness of breath at the top of a mountain look
for me
In the last eagle's caw, in the lion's gaping maw, if you've eyes to see.
See me.
In the dregs of last night's beer
in the first breath of the morning clear I am there.
stretching in the first light of the sun.
In the eyes of your unrequited love, I am the tear
in the space between the notes of a symphony.
Look for me.
In the dots between the elevens on the clock, in between the heavens and the flock I reside.
nonexistent, yet pulling the tide, I reside.
Between up and down standing still and spinning round in the air and on the ground
I reside.
Find me.
In the heat of a heart's introduction, I am the stare.
In the first bite of buttered toast, I am the crunch.
In the angst of a first love's kiss, I am the after climax bliss in the drunkenness of breath at the top of a mountain look
for me
In the last eagle's caw, in the lion's gaping maw, if you've eyes to see.
See me.
In the dregs of last night's beer
in the first breath of the morning clear I am there.
stretching in the first light of the sun.
In the eyes of your unrequited love, I am the tear
in the space between the notes of a symphony.
Look for me.
In the dots between the elevens on the clock, in between the heavens and the flock I reside.
nonexistent, yet pulling the tide, I reside.
Between up and down standing still and spinning round in the air and on the ground
I reside.
Find me.
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