A Least Dreadful Longing
The Tears that Wipe the Blood from Our Cheeks
They cry out give them books.
They cry out give them money.
But no one cries out to stop the tears that wipe the blood from our cheeks.
They look for the root of the plant.
They look for the soil to spring up with never a seed.
They can but they don't
Stop a single tear.
Instead
They gaggle and babble
They waddle and wade
In a non stop pool of ideas
Each one more shallow than the last
They look for us under a mountain
Of their own misgivings,
Placed down on our peon minds
From a lofty seat of extravagance.
Greed rains down and wipes the blood from our cheeks.
Dry fountains are filled with our tears.
We long for a little light to come
We ask for forgiveness
Even though we did nothing wrong.
They hope to keep us walking
In the same direction
Towards everything we need.
They say we want it,
But we can't want what we already need.
Nothings and Nobodies
There are but few moments we often never cling to,
Though never forgotten they harshly remind us--
Do carry on despite the pressure
The banter of displeased nothings and nobodies
Both created for amusement
And recreated for belittling majestic birds.
These birds soar with never a broken feather,
Each wing is stronger than the other--
Even in the moment of flight,
Lost over the horizon,
So small to the eye.
We could never see the distance these majestic birds travel,
For it is both never ending and never beginning.
They are souls, and they are everything.
These birds have no sorrow.
And the nothings and nobodies that crave to fly
Motion for our attention.
They struggle to cope
And bring addicted misery.
They drive their feet into the ground to keep from flying,
But their mind cannot ever fly,
So instead they heap arrogance and displeasure
Upon every shadow of fortune.
They make a mockery
Of the dreams of the Phoenix.
They spit on the Sphinx.
They cast doubt on an otherwise
Beautiful and bountiful melody.
They paint with mud and rotted bananas:
They walk with anchors on their feet,
And shackles filled with grief.
Our Privileges On the Way
I can't demand
From a source
So true and bright
With no remorse
Like anyone
Or anything
Could ever take
Away more pain
Than all my chains
As time goes on
And changes me
I replicate a
Starry spring
That shines reflections
Of the night
Into the world
Like morning's light.
I look like snow
Because of this
I never need
Another kiss
I never need
To hold a hand
This promise is
The Promised Land.
Forgiven Once
And once for all
Pride had come
Before my fall
I saw the end
As if it were
The calendar
My furniture
My house
My secret
And my dread
I'm now alive
But once was dead.
They cry out give them books.
They cry out give them money.
But no one cries out to stop the tears that wipe the blood from our cheeks.
They look for the root of the plant.
They look for the soil to spring up with never a seed.
They can but they don't
Stop a single tear.
Instead
They gaggle and babble
They waddle and wade
In a non stop pool of ideas
Each one more shallow than the last
They look for us under a mountain
Of their own misgivings,
Placed down on our peon minds
From a lofty seat of extravagance.
Greed rains down and wipes the blood from our cheeks.
Dry fountains are filled with our tears.
We long for a little light to come
We ask for forgiveness
Even though we did nothing wrong.
They hope to keep us walking
In the same direction
Towards everything we need.
They say we want it,
But we can't want what we already need.
Nothings and Nobodies
There are but few moments we often never cling to,
Though never forgotten they harshly remind us--
Do carry on despite the pressure
The banter of displeased nothings and nobodies
Both created for amusement
And recreated for belittling majestic birds.
These birds soar with never a broken feather,
Each wing is stronger than the other--
Even in the moment of flight,
Lost over the horizon,
So small to the eye.
We could never see the distance these majestic birds travel,
For it is both never ending and never beginning.
They are souls, and they are everything.
These birds have no sorrow.
And the nothings and nobodies that crave to fly
Motion for our attention.
They struggle to cope
And bring addicted misery.
They drive their feet into the ground to keep from flying,
But their mind cannot ever fly,
So instead they heap arrogance and displeasure
Upon every shadow of fortune.
They make a mockery
Of the dreams of the Phoenix.
They spit on the Sphinx.
They cast doubt on an otherwise
Beautiful and bountiful melody.
They paint with mud and rotted bananas:
They walk with anchors on their feet,
And shackles filled with grief.
Our Privileges On the Way
I can't demand
From a source
So true and bright
With no remorse
Like anyone
Or anything
Could ever take
Away more pain
Than all my chains
As time goes on
And changes me
I replicate a
Starry spring
That shines reflections
Of the night
Into the world
Like morning's light.
I look like snow
Because of this
I never need
Another kiss
I never need
To hold a hand
This promise is
The Promised Land.
Forgiven Once
And once for all
Pride had come
Before my fall
I saw the end
As if it were
The calendar
My furniture
My house
My secret
And my dread
I'm now alive
But once was dead.
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