Wednesday, August 28, 1996

know the rest

how could he fade
things are so real
worry much and thinking
you will be the one fading
not water color to be washed in the rain
even if emotions change
unfading and you never knew really
close your eyes
you know the rest. . .

Monday, August 26, 1996

it is enough

fiending for a familiar voice
that sweet beautiful noise
in ears ring them bells
inside the heart peace now dwells
much to do yet I sit and write
not once regretting a wonderful night
all at once rushing nowhere
down is now up and I am now there
at the same time I think I am still here
pain drifts away take with it fear
that place of tranquility is where I am going
the direction is harder for me to be knowing
accepted and time now to enjoy
remembering the days in this story of the boy
much anger and fear he has had
seemingly in control and embracing what is sad
now it's what you think the opposite of happy
lack of happiness for too long and then it slapped me
right in the face it's in our rule
not that you could learn that in school
reaching deep and look what can be found
nothing came when looking around
missing the point it was inside
and inside another no need to hide
NAMASTE honoring the light within you
knowing it's there the in the clouds I see right through
and seeing the stars and the full moon
no rush for that it's only noon
breathing each breath knowing the mind free
the rock that doesn't move even the tree
sway with each word the wind does speak
everyone's strong no need to be weak
nothing will break if it is willing to bend
you'll never lose me if you are a friend
find yourself daily or even a clue
one step at a time as if feet knew
where it is we are all going
no reason no rocks no need to be throwing
the past is forgiven not forgotten
some shines while some of it is rotten
embracing it all with the same arms
now letting it go watch as it calms
all of the waves that were so rough
enjoying the peace and that is enough. . .

Wednesday, August 21, 1996

won't fade

wonder why the sky cries now
push onward through it all plow
until reaching a point of desire
or until burned in the fire
won’t fade with the sun that shines
surviving worse, how many times
wonder why the trees bend like they do
wind won’t blow anything between tight two
what they say and shit they may speak
won’t affect what’s been found, not as weak
all the mountains seen, how many times
won’t fade and the sun still shines
wonder how it all came to be
looking into glass wonder what they see
don’t look away eyes are the cure
parting ways and only wanting more
won’t fade rather explode
sun shine brighter, overload
wonder why an emotion may rage
despite years numbers and age
don’t they know it won’t go away
and the stupid games that they play
won’t fade
even if standing in the shade
stop wondering and take it all in
try to explain emotion, don’t know where to begin
decipher the code no problem can’t be solved
figured out the emotion and any pain resolved
won’t fade in the shade paid or unpaid
thoughts stacked like bricks neatly laid. . .

Tuesday, August 6, 1996

the wind is screaming

808/1996

the wind is screaming and
the moon shines down
on my spot on the stone
give me hope
understanding
the pathways traveled
cannot rewind
and will not be where
it can harm me
will not be set up for a third stone
thrown at my head
a third day and I will not rise
falling into a new way of thinking
seeing myself as important now
back burner no more
center of my own attention
won't let the hard times
bring me down
reaching down to the first branch
falling how many times and hitting
how many branches on my way down
now seizing this day this hour
seeing clearly the ideas
before I couldn't see
change the ways that have done me wrong
move on to the better it will come. . .

Sunday, August 4, 1996

nothing to find

loneliness—had enough
emptiness felt as the water gets rough
too hard at times sitting near
somehow wishing to be seen here
and how much to say
never enough time in the day
thinking misery for so long
and weakness becoming so strong
taking a mind off of this
seeing what may have been missed
waiting too damn long
and then they just come along
how did they know not like the rest
how did they know they would pass the test
learning more of the things unknown
learning more picking up the thrown stone
hopefully not settling for less
in the past created quite the mess
out of a mind
nothing to find
won’t rewind
won’t even think to look behind
won’t rise now tired from the strain
until the clouds won’t cry again crying all this rain
until the moon dances away below the ground
until the waves can’t crash and no one hears a sound
until the heat won’t burn up in that cooler place
until looking into the box—see the mortal face. . .