You Get Used

To The Pain

Of Being

Disappointed

The Watch

From a distance I watch
the people coming and going.
Hours pass with the human tide.
Solitary in this crowd
though I wonder if
anyone has
seen me.

Pendulum

What does it take for us to change
what has seemed unchangeable?
How much must we suffer
before we look with honesty?
We all share in this shame and guilt.
We can be compelled but what
moves us to act?

Live and suffer for money.
Idol worship of fools and folly.
Man created and destroyed
by our own economy imagined.

Does not all of Man desire not
a place to live, but a home?

The mistakes we have birthed
have matured and birthed ones
of their own.

We search ceaselessly for answers.
They are here. They are here.
We have seen them and turned
them away but they are here.

Can we move towards a better union?

Caught between hope and
hopelessness.

Swing of a pendulum.

Wind and Sand

Cast the words from your mouth
I've got nothing to say
I've heard what you meant
Cast a wall of steel and concrete
Division and separation
This is what you want
All promises are wind and sand
Don't say anything more
I've heard it
I've heard it
I've heard it before
And the past hasn't changed
And neither have you

And

And once there was nothing
And then there was
And then there was everything
And then there were beasts
And then there was man
And then man was spread
throughout the world
And then man forgot
And then man kept trying
to remember
And then man remembered
And then some men
wondered if it was too late

Without Worship

You are the god you have always wished to be
But there is no one praying to you
Asking for favor
Sacrificing animals to you
Tearing at their clothes for you
You are a god without people
You are a god without a religion
If no one is there to believe in you
Do you still exist

We are a selfish
and insecure people

Poles

I am sane and you are angry

or is it

I am angry and you are sane

or could it be

We are both alternating

in the degrees of

our anger and sanity

Is it not even more likely

that we are both

invisibly damaged in places

we are hardly aware of

but are blatantly

apparent to everyone else

Yes

that must be it

that must be something

close to the truth

Why must our contentment 
be measured against
what we do not yet possess?

A Mother is the beginning of your world

and for a time

is your whole world. 

Once Upon A Time

You were so small as to be completely helpless.
You were small enough to fit snugly in the arms of
your Mother and Father. They held you and were in awe
of your complete lack of ability. You were practically strangers
but they loved you more deeply than anyone else in their lives.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not yet speak, but that did not
stop your parents and family from deciphering each cry, gurgle,
and coo. You began to learn this tongue through the kindness of touch
and bodily warmth. You knew what love was before you knew the word.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you led a carefree and blameless life where
every need was anticipated and provided for. Your cries were a source
of concern before you had anything to be concerned about.

Once upon a time

You were so small as to be able to swim in your Mother's belly and
hear her heart beat while her blood pulsed through you.

Once upon a time

You were so small your hand could only wrap around one adult finger.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you could not walk, you couldn't even sit.
You were so small that accomplishing each was momentous.

Once upon a time

You were so small, words could not take flight from your tongue,
they merely sat on the runway while mind, throat, and tongue
learned to coordinate their efforts for a mutual good.

Once upon a time

You were so small that you did not know of oceans, sky, wind,
but when you grew to know them you grew to love the vastness
of the world as you stood on the beach while the wind shaped clouds
into abstract paintings hued in the pastels of a fading sun.

Once upon a time

You were so small that your body began to grow and find it's place
among people. You grew taller and wider, more confident
and amazed. You grew so much that you met another person
and together made someone new. When they were born
you remembered how small you had once been.

Living Among the Stars

So many names 

and faces scattered 

in my memory

I feel awed

by the constellations

in my galaxy

How lucky I am

to live among such stars

All heart, no brains.

ants

there is no mercy
for the ant
when we feel
it's tiny feet
across our skin

we mete out
punishment swiftly
decisively

flicked off
or crushed by
fingers

we act as though
we were god
and not kin

to such a lowly
creature

At Some Point

Everything is 
broken or
breaking and
there is 
nothing I
can do
to help
everyone.

Prophets before the people.

King of Los Angeles

You could often see King roaming the streets
of Los Angeles during the day
and taking up residence in one of its bars
during the evening. His shaggy beard
hid his face well and grew
up to his eyebrows. He didn't really have
an apartment-
he mainly crashed on couches when he could.
His backpack held almost all
of his belongings. He didn't feel too bad
about it. He was out here and he had made
a go at it, had tried his damn best
at being in a band, at singing his fucking
head off about his life, his drinking,
the women he fucked, the women
he loved, the women and friends
who eventually grew to see through
the shit and moved on.
He was a nice guy-
it was hard to argue that he wasn't,
he just fucked up a lot.
Whenever I would see him
he was usually drunk
or on his way to getting drunk.
He was always coming and going.
I stopped paying attention to his whereabouts
because honestly
I had my own shit to worry about.
I hear he's still in town,
still singing, still drinking,
still fucking
things up on accident
and on purpose.
I can't encroach on his dreams
and methods,
I barely know what mine are
or if I even know what the hell
I am doing. Chances are
the next time I see him
I'll pull out my flask
of cheap whiskey
and offer him a long pull
on the only burn that seems
to pull us back from the darkness.

Possible/People/Sounds

The Sounds Impossible People Make

or

The Sounds of Impossible People


or

The Possible Sounds of Impossible People