Friday, November 19, 2010

Better Than You.

A flimsy justification, I guess.

Better Than You.

Napkins on our laps,
A knife to your neck,
We're the kings, we're the aces,
You're the two's in each deck.
Were you wild, were we jacks,
You'd be wild enough to fight back.
Pair and compare your lives,
With a grain of our salt,
We're better than you,
But it's not our fault.

We're the top of the pyramid,
Holding the burden of god's love,
Are the peak and the base
Just as sacred above?
We don't want to be cruel, don't want to be rude,
But it's uncomfortable to sympathize with our food.
It's our necessity,
It would be your assault,
We're better than you,
But it's not our fault.

Saturday, November 13, 2010

What We Stand To Lose.

When too many words are used to describe too many things, things get real cluttered.

What We Stand To Lose

Hunters and gatherers will hunt now to gather,
Come home to rooms too small and decide what to have there.
Wading through bottles, backpacks, blankets and knick-knacks
With tires on their arms and kitchen sinks weighing on their backs.
And they push out two piles just to push in three through the door,
On the walls in red paint battle the words "enough" and "more".
Laden, so heavy, they break through their shoes,
But we're measured by what we stand to lose.

The moon is full, but not like we are,
We want to orbit the sun like a uhaul with the speed of a sportscar,
Bright yellow or dusty gray, there's no vestige of clutter.
No cabinets or dressers that are too filled up to shut there.
We float in space longing for space, and the courage to escape,
But we dare not abandon our accumulations, bulging under strips of tape,
And we long to live with only what we can use,
And to be measure by what we've stood to lose.

Caught between then and now and now and soon,
How will we celebrate beneath and unobstructed moon?
And time will dictate what tools we'll use,
To measure what we stand to lose.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Just As Well.

Let's talk about examples,
That epitomize uncertain times,
That sketch out the feeling
Of similar words that just won't rhyme.
Perhaps something uncommon,
Like when a bolt of lightning strikes,
And the target's gripped in the hands of instant change,
That would go something like:

Forsaking boundaries of great distance,
Lightning flies down to hit the ground,
And the aftermath's uneasy serenity
Is a world strictly stuck in "Now",
Reverbs ricochet through you swiftly,
Uncomfortable ripples of the soul,
And in shocked, stunned-stupid silence,
You've lost any semblance of control.

We don't hear the full story,
It's a painting lacking shade,
It's an effect with no seeming cause,
It's a float with no parade,
When everything passed is erased,
What dictates where to go?
And context bails without a note,
And no solution in tow.

Pounding dirt for direction,
Pounding floors just the same,
Tasting the same sensation,
With two slightly different names,
One connected to the earth,
One connected to the walls,
And creeping deeper digging,
Under which one do you fall?

There's an answer and a reason,
And in past the tips of tongues,
You can't catch it if you chase it,
Can't escape it if you run.

But I guess it's just as well.

Friday, October 29, 2010

The Second Skyline.

Over low-lying hill is a mountain tall,
Where the raindrops sit right before they fall,
And there they'll be,
Waiting to join the sea,
And cloud cover waits for another squall.

Over those hills looms a mountain gray,
It shifts and tumbles across the day,
And a cloud's skyline,
Moving with time,
Skirts the horizon like a mountain range.

Below peaking clouds swirl fog-dripping lakes,
High above us, their depths will break,
And over hills,
Raindrops will spill,
Back down to the earthen pools they make.

Light gray piles up on a blue background,
And  mellow peaks soften as the sun goes down,
And it's beyond reach, like
Watching ships from the beach,
Misty, distant, unreal, but close somehow.

Like a masterpiece painted right on the sky,
Where birds and landscapes are free to fly,
It's a cloud's skyline,
Moving with time,
And playing subtle games with my eyes.

Monday, September 20, 2010

Both Kinds.

I saw birth in your eyes,
And your childhood, too,
As you grew out of the girl,
From that town on the hill,
And you set free the beetles,
Pinned to that corkboard,
You watched and you waited,
As they lay perfectly still.
Young eyes lit with a passion,
As your hands clasped together,
Praying they'd all rise,
But you know they never will.

I saw life in your eyes,
Every crack in the road,
As the cracks in the ground,
Caused the city to fall.
And the terror among them,
Sent more smoke through the air,
And hope was unseen,
And unheard was its call.
Your eyes lit with a passion,
As your hands clasped together,
Praying they'd all rise,
And they will, after all.

Friday, September 10, 2010


One path reaching up,
One lies hidden from the eye
A third a mirage.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Waiting on a Reason.

Let’s talk it out,
Try to remove all doubt,
From the lines between us and within.
It’s less than clear,
What’s inching near,
But I can feel an end begin.
There’s fate that we can make on our own
And fate that we cannot.
You’re waiting for a sign to show you home,
But your fate doesn’t want to be on the spot.

We’re in too deep,
To back out now,
But you’re stuck waiting for a sign.
It’s about what you want,
And what you need,
But you’re afraid to leave that line
While I’m waiting on a warmer season,
You’re waiting on a reason.
There are times,
You’ll be less than fine,
And times you’ll be uncertain
But in the end,
You’ll be happy then,
That you allowed the rising of the curtain.
We’re alive, it’s time to act that way,
By pursuing our mind’s desires
Throw caution to the wind for just one day,
Or throw caution into the fire.


It’s a risky move but it’s something you’ve
Got to try, even if you get a little bruised
You’re never more alive than when you
Try and reach for something you could lose.

Just look at you,
What you want to do
And give your heart what it wants.
To take a risky stance,
On an uncertain chance
Is anything but nonchalance.
A leading hand and a blindfold
May be less reliable than you know.
A glowing road to take until you’re old
Shouldn’t tell you where to go.