If you ever get the chance
Don't waste the opportunity
Time only slows in a dance
So, don't get lost in obscurity
Maybe it will be the last time
For Flying Machines and air
So when her smile is prime
Take hold of her hand up there
She may even hold yours too,
Tell her things she needs to hear
And why you've came all this way
Don't hold back, Own your fear
Moments, they tend to slip away
You've only met her this once
But the seconds are burning fast
Make a move, Forget the silence
Today too, becomes the past
Maybe it didn't matter anyhow
This story is quickly ending
Listening to the cat's meow
While time has a way of bending
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Coffee Man
Your life is rough Mr. Coffee man
You didn't get it your way today
Well this isn't Burger King, Sir
And you aren't Mr. President are you
So sit your ass down in the little booth
You can drink your fucking coffee now
Your friends, they don't like you much
They only pretend to hear your voice
You come in here every single day
You and your fucking banana bread
What if it had mold, and you choked
All the money down at the bank and trust
It will not be enough to save your life
And those college kids you scorned
They forget to restart your heart this time
You realize you should have been kinder
Some people, they really have it made
Yet they bitch and fret their life away
Just the same as you Mr. Coffee Man
Trading your soul for moldy banana bread
Let us all hope that loaf tasted divine
No bakeries deliver at the morgue you see
You won't be able to talk your foolish talks
But we're aware of how self important you are
So Don't bother telling us, as we don't care
Luxuries of complaining when life's not 'fair'
You didn't get it your way today
Well this isn't Burger King, Sir
And you aren't Mr. President are you
So sit your ass down in the little booth
You can drink your fucking coffee now
Your friends, they don't like you much
They only pretend to hear your voice
You come in here every single day
You and your fucking banana bread
What if it had mold, and you choked
All the money down at the bank and trust
It will not be enough to save your life
And those college kids you scorned
They forget to restart your heart this time
You realize you should have been kinder
Some people, they really have it made
Yet they bitch and fret their life away
Just the same as you Mr. Coffee Man
Trading your soul for moldy banana bread
Let us all hope that loaf tasted divine
No bakeries deliver at the morgue you see
You won't be able to talk your foolish talks
But we're aware of how self important you are
So Don't bother telling us, as we don't care
Luxuries of complaining when life's not 'fair'
Friday, November 18, 2011
The Mystery of the Broken Gumball Machine
The curious tale of a big red machine
Finds a place here amongst the fall leaves
Once perhaps, the novelty of wonders
Practically any color would fall from its drop
Most onlookers now pass the antique
Though the cogs were oiled not so long ago
Gumball upon gumball fell from its glass
Much like dreams pour from the sandman's eyes
That machine in the field was not always so silent
Once it worked soundly and carried a tune
Then came the dew that rusted it shut
Attempts were made to make it turn
Foolery that ended quite the same way
The gumballs it spilled are now locked away tight
As time motioned past the cloudy, forgotten tale
Even the greatest of believers, believed it was late
For machines to start working against such a fate
Finds a place here amongst the fall leaves
Once perhaps, the novelty of wonders
Practically any color would fall from its drop
Most onlookers now pass the antique
Though the cogs were oiled not so long ago
Gumball upon gumball fell from its glass
Much like dreams pour from the sandman's eyes
That machine in the field was not always so silent
Once it worked soundly and carried a tune
Then came the dew that rusted it shut
Attempts were made to make it turn
Foolery that ended quite the same way
The gumballs it spilled are now locked away tight
As time motioned past the cloudy, forgotten tale
Even the greatest of believers, believed it was late
For machines to start working against such a fate
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
They Walk By Me
A boy and his friend,
They walk on by me
Smiles light their faces,
They've never known pain
Youth still exists,
They have no scars of time
Today is immortal,
They know of no clocks
Tomorrow is a myth
They know not of it
Plans are endless,
They own the world
Laughter flourishes,
They only tell jokes
Daylight is abroad,
They don't understand dusk
Roads are everywhere,
They have many choices
Age is invisible,
They cannot see me
Dying is not an option,
They are forever
They walk on by me
Smiles light their faces,
They've never known pain
Youth still exists,
They have no scars of time
Today is immortal,
They know of no clocks
Tomorrow is a myth
They know not of it
Plans are endless,
They own the world
Laughter flourishes,
They only tell jokes
Daylight is abroad,
They don't understand dusk
Roads are everywhere,
They have many choices
Age is invisible,
They cannot see me
Dying is not an option,
They are forever
If
Memories,
If they held no faces
Moments,
If they held no sounds
Letters,
If they held no words
Particles
If they held no pieces
The Sky,
If it wasn't so blue
The Road,
If it wasn't so open
The Salt,
If it wasn't so bland
The Room,
If it wasn't so empty
Questions,
If they could be answered
Emotions,
If they could be tamed
Hearts,
If they could be trusted
Fools,
If they could be understood
Beginnings,
If they only floated
Mornings,
If they only lasted
Evenings,
If they only slowed
Endings,
If they only ended
If they held no faces
Moments,
If they held no sounds
Letters,
If they held no words
Particles
If they held no pieces
The Sky,
If it wasn't so blue
The Road,
If it wasn't so open
The Salt,
If it wasn't so bland
The Room,
If it wasn't so empty
Questions,
If they could be answered
Emotions,
If they could be tamed
Hearts,
If they could be trusted
Fools,
If they could be understood
Beginnings,
If they only floated
Mornings,
If they only lasted
Evenings,
If they only slowed
Endings,
If they only ended
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Menu
Waiter: Did you miss something?
Him: It's hard to tell just now
Waiter: The weather is weird, yeah?
Him: Don't I know it
Waiter: Can I get you something else?
Him: It's not on the menu
Waiter(frowns): I suppose not
Him: But that's to be expected I guess
Waiter:......
Him: I reckon you can bring the check
Waiter: If that's what you would like
Him(laughs): That matters not
Waiter(leaves to get the check)
Him(stares out into the night)
Him: It's hard to tell just now
Waiter: The weather is weird, yeah?
Him: Don't I know it
Waiter: Can I get you something else?
Him: It's not on the menu
Waiter(frowns): I suppose not
Him: But that's to be expected I guess
Waiter:......
Him: I reckon you can bring the check
Waiter: If that's what you would like
Him(laughs): That matters not
Waiter(leaves to get the check)
Him(stares out into the night)
Reflections in the Moon
An obscure and icy prison,
Broken only by the wind
Another shadow cast
In muted conversations
Outcomes unexpected
With minor breathing room
Expecting time to be gentle
When clocks remain unbroken
Gripping empty thoughts
Of which no sounds form
Exploring a surreal dream
To understand futility
Battling to breathe in sound
When silence is all afoot
Wrestling with reality
When dreams become harsh
Smoking under a starless sky
Contemplating the moon
Broken only by the wind
Another shadow cast
In muted conversations
Outcomes unexpected
With minor breathing room
Expecting time to be gentle
When clocks remain unbroken
Gripping empty thoughts
Of which no sounds form
Exploring a surreal dream
To understand futility
Battling to breathe in sound
When silence is all afoot
Wrestling with reality
When dreams become harsh
Smoking under a starless sky
Contemplating the moon
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Chasing the Dreamer through the Foothills of Time
I chase dreams that no one has ever seen before
At the bottoms of wishing wells you may find me
I seek what has never been sought with vitality
I bang upon doors that would seem quite shut
I walked back from the edge of death you see
All but certain that I could no longer dream
I found hope in futility, I found hope and more
Down to my last illusion, I recovered my stare
I saw the awe in the awful and awesome alike
Most of my suffering was of my own design
Yet it served some greater purpose inside of me
Without despair, I could not have found jubilation
The vast stories of my mind have yet to be written
Though they clearly exist and they beckon for release
I am the endless one who tires not at spilling thoughts
The proverbial ink releases demons I have not slain
However I no longer keep records of lesser things
Some people wish to rid their mind of heartache
I too, once wished upon the same silky starlights
Though who would I be without the roads I forged
How could I proclaim to be a writer without a pen
I could never be endless without a story to tell
Yesterday is long ago in a rear view mirror
I pray that my story finds a home one day
That it must not be retold in search of a kindred heart
For I long to put these walking shoes to rest
Their heels have long gave way to the callouses I keep
Trust not that I feel discouraged by the path at hand
Because my maker created a dreamer, who in turn created me
Without questions, our existences would fail to have purpose
With no purpose, I could not stretch to you this tale
What is it that brings you here this evening I wonder
Do you have no where to go besides in the in between
Hold on if you feel like dying, For I have cheated death too
Your heart is more resilient than you will ever know
Take what you want from the words on any page
Use them to understand your own elusiveness
I have no need for them once they leave my soul
Yet I would wish you kindly in the business that you seek
Of finding yourself when others have forgotten that you exist
No longer do I speak by the aid of a sedative or such
I've given that away too, Among the ways of waywardness
Another open road awaits the ageless traveling man
Him and his endless pad have another date with destiny
Clinging to remaining hope, here in the foot hills of time
He makes his way around the world without another sound
At the bottoms of wishing wells you may find me
I seek what has never been sought with vitality
I bang upon doors that would seem quite shut
I walked back from the edge of death you see
All but certain that I could no longer dream
I found hope in futility, I found hope and more
Down to my last illusion, I recovered my stare
I saw the awe in the awful and awesome alike
Most of my suffering was of my own design
Yet it served some greater purpose inside of me
Without despair, I could not have found jubilation
The vast stories of my mind have yet to be written
Though they clearly exist and they beckon for release
I am the endless one who tires not at spilling thoughts
The proverbial ink releases demons I have not slain
However I no longer keep records of lesser things
Some people wish to rid their mind of heartache
I too, once wished upon the same silky starlights
Though who would I be without the roads I forged
How could I proclaim to be a writer without a pen
I could never be endless without a story to tell
Yesterday is long ago in a rear view mirror
I pray that my story finds a home one day
That it must not be retold in search of a kindred heart
For I long to put these walking shoes to rest
Their heels have long gave way to the callouses I keep
Trust not that I feel discouraged by the path at hand
Because my maker created a dreamer, who in turn created me
Without questions, our existences would fail to have purpose
With no purpose, I could not stretch to you this tale
What is it that brings you here this evening I wonder
Do you have no where to go besides in the in between
Hold on if you feel like dying, For I have cheated death too
Your heart is more resilient than you will ever know
Take what you want from the words on any page
Use them to understand your own elusiveness
I have no need for them once they leave my soul
Yet I would wish you kindly in the business that you seek
Of finding yourself when others have forgotten that you exist
No longer do I speak by the aid of a sedative or such
I've given that away too, Among the ways of waywardness
Another open road awaits the ageless traveling man
Him and his endless pad have another date with destiny
Clinging to remaining hope, here in the foot hills of time
He makes his way around the world without another sound
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Capitalism and Cartoons
Eating cold mac and cheese
With Scooby Doo shapes
Out of a pot with a spoon
In my pajamas at 1000 am
The air fresh, The day young
The American way of life
Gluttonous in our daily wealth
In lesser countries they hunger
Not knowing Scooby Doo
Or the wonders of television bliss
What becomes of our egos
As we forget world suffrage
I pause to be grateful and humble
Blessed is my contented stomach
The shapes fill its depth warmly
Of the lesser homes I ponder
How they know not these pleasures
When it is all I have ever known
With Scooby Doo shapes
Out of a pot with a spoon
In my pajamas at 1000 am
The air fresh, The day young
The American way of life
Gluttonous in our daily wealth
In lesser countries they hunger
Not knowing Scooby Doo
Or the wonders of television bliss
What becomes of our egos
As we forget world suffrage
I pause to be grateful and humble
Blessed is my contented stomach
The shapes fill its depth warmly
Of the lesser homes I ponder
How they know not these pleasures
When it is all I have ever known
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Wagers and Riddles
Who says?
That pies cannot fill the sky
While we wander around in place
Who knows?
What it is that happens here
How it came to be this way
Who asks?
But those who chase down tomorrow
Wanderers who are unafraid to fly
What's inside?
Maybe the jitters of something new
Or perhaps notions that were left unnamed
What does it mean?
To the ones who question themselves
And the paths that they ramble on
What is real?
But the moments you can clearly touch
And the people you meet in between
That pies cannot fill the sky
While we wander around in place
Who knows?
What it is that happens here
How it came to be this way
Who asks?
But those who chase down tomorrow
Wanderers who are unafraid to fly
What's inside?
Maybe the jitters of something new
Or perhaps notions that were left unnamed
What does it mean?
To the ones who question themselves
And the paths that they ramble on
What is real?
But the moments you can clearly touch
And the people you meet in between
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)