Our lives should be written in the stars.
We wear ink just like bumper stickers, on our cars.
We build prisons in our mind,
and put ourselves behind the bars
Through tears and muscle, we become free.
These try to add from one, and create one or two or three.
Our minds are as complex as computer chips
Most people we meet, only brief, brief blips.
Once in a great while, sub atomic particles collide
And infinitely multiply the potential energy they hold inside.
Finding the match , the electron that fits
Is a worthwhile task, when you're ready for it. "
Friday, January 4, 2013
Part of growing things is planting seeds,
thinning weeds, and providing for needs.
Love has needs , on trust it feeds.
The deeper the trust. The more the love breeds.
Love has a speed set to cruise
Accelerate ? You're bound to lose
you will lose the love you seek
you'll THINK you're strong,
but KNOW you're weak
I have decided to live to deny suicide
Not that I ever really tried, sure I cried
yet I Always held a dream inside
The sun is too bright, the world to right,
For me to ever give up the fight.
When I sought love, I rejected false might
See, love has a might, in it's own right.
At least I've gained the gift of sight.
Love comes at a pace, a pace of it's own
Best not change the pace or off you're thrown.
thinning weeds, and providing for needs.
Love has needs , on trust it feeds.
The deeper the trust. The more the love breeds.
Love has a speed set to cruise
Accelerate ? You're bound to lose
you will lose the love you seek
you'll THINK you're strong,
but KNOW you're weak
I have decided to live to deny suicide
Not that I ever really tried, sure I cried
yet I Always held a dream inside
The sun is too bright, the world to right,
For me to ever give up the fight.
When I sought love, I rejected false might
See, love has a might, in it's own right.
At least I've gained the gift of sight.
Love comes at a pace, a pace of it's own
Best not change the pace or off you're thrown.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
The Trio
Hello people,
so glad you came in from the cold
I've got a little tale to tell,
a story that must be told.
It involves three little boys, a lady, and a man.
They were called a family, they lived in a sardine can.
The bones they can be eaten, they crumble with a crunch.
There were funny times, here among this bunch
There was another figure, usually within the house
This pet wasn't a housecat, nor a cute little mouse.
The grim reaper, himself, lived here in this house.
He hid behind tables, he hid behind chairs,
he often changes colors, he often avoids stares
The dirty plates stacked up all over the table.
The man got up, and went to bed, unless being drunk, left him unable
The kids, well they just spun, out of control.
Left with short answers, to fill the hole in their soul
I guess if that was all, that the kids had had to bear,
that might have been okay, they might have thrived while there
But there was this other side, that often liked to hide
Hatred, violence, and anger, The Trio often came inside.
They felt right at home there, among the darkness and the dirt.
There seemed to be no limit, on just how much they hurt.
The children learned to use their hands, for more than to create
They learned to curl fingers to fists, and a lesson had been missed.
For hands can create pain, they do it every day
They always go the same place, when you do it that way.
The kids were not killers, even though they had held guns.
They kids had to settle problems, like they do when having fun
It was ok to hit each other, for boys settle things this way.
There should have been a different thing, taught to them that day.
I don't think you should blame their father, he ONLY knew that way.
Over time, the Trio grew warmer, even welcoming
The people had no fucking idea, of what they were becoming
The blood it tasted vile, and yet it made them smile
You just sort of let it fester, over a little while
At least you venture outside, the sun does truly shine
You ripen, and gain color,
like a grape, along a vine.
One day you find you're free from all of this.
Anger becomes empty, hatred becomes a lie.
You end up confused, and to learn, and to learn?
Well you must try.
so glad you came in from the cold
I've got a little tale to tell,
a story that must be told.
It involves three little boys, a lady, and a man.
They were called a family, they lived in a sardine can.
The bones they can be eaten, they crumble with a crunch.
There were funny times, here among this bunch
There was another figure, usually within the house
This pet wasn't a housecat, nor a cute little mouse.
The grim reaper, himself, lived here in this house.
He hid behind tables, he hid behind chairs,
he often changes colors, he often avoids stares
The dirty plates stacked up all over the table.
The man got up, and went to bed, unless being drunk, left him unable
The kids, well they just spun, out of control.
Left with short answers, to fill the hole in their soul
I guess if that was all, that the kids had had to bear,
that might have been okay, they might have thrived while there
But there was this other side, that often liked to hide
Hatred, violence, and anger, The Trio often came inside.
They felt right at home there, among the darkness and the dirt.
There seemed to be no limit, on just how much they hurt.
The children learned to use their hands, for more than to create
They learned to curl fingers to fists, and a lesson had been missed.
For hands can create pain, they do it every day
They always go the same place, when you do it that way.
The kids were not killers, even though they had held guns.
They kids had to settle problems, like they do when having fun
It was ok to hit each other, for boys settle things this way.
There should have been a different thing, taught to them that day.
I don't think you should blame their father, he ONLY knew that way.
Over time, the Trio grew warmer, even welcoming
The people had no fucking idea, of what they were becoming
The blood it tasted vile, and yet it made them smile
You just sort of let it fester, over a little while
At least you venture outside, the sun does truly shine
You ripen, and gain color,
like a grape, along a vine.
One day you find you're free from all of this.
Anger becomes empty, hatred becomes a lie.
You end up confused, and to learn, and to learn?
Well you must try.
Circles and Lines
Draw a circle, draw a line. One is ours, and one is mine
Take a walk, find a path, like the fact it is tree lined
sidewalk lays out the way, my feet need softer ground today.
leave the path, stay on the line, find a circle, yours and mine
walking tall, arms open wide,
one love for us all, and it flows inside
night is black this time of year
all the colors live in here
pain can linger, at the tip of your finger
you can clutch your heart, you can shoot the gun
for your brand new start, you are fast, you can run
The black spot on the sun, the butterfly in the spider's web,
the skeleton choking on the crust of bread,
they were the same, The Police had said
So everything is my soul, the brightest light, the darkest hole,
the tree, the grass, even a blind mole
if I am you and you are me, we are we, and he and she,
you, me, the rock, the tree, the thing still hidden, in a distant sea
If this number of one, can get it done,
it should be this way, for everyone
Take a walk, find a path, like the fact it is tree lined
sidewalk lays out the way, my feet need softer ground today.
leave the path, stay on the line, find a circle, yours and mine
walking tall, arms open wide,
one love for us all, and it flows inside
night is black this time of year
all the colors live in here
pain can linger, at the tip of your finger
you can clutch your heart, you can shoot the gun
for your brand new start, you are fast, you can run
The black spot on the sun, the butterfly in the spider's web,
the skeleton choking on the crust of bread,
they were the same, The Police had said
So everything is my soul, the brightest light, the darkest hole,
the tree, the grass, even a blind mole
if I am you and you are me, we are we, and he and she,
you, me, the rock, the tree, the thing still hidden, in a distant sea
If this number of one, can get it done,
it should be this way, for everyone
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Confusion
It all makes sense to me, right now.
I understand my pain, where it came from, and how.
I know it hurt, I know it stung. I tasted the tears.
I have spent hours alone, days, even years.
I have alot of things figured out. I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide.
Yet when it comes to the most important thing of all, love, I seem to run and hide.
It's not that I don't need it. It's not that it isn't sweet.
It's so powerful when it visits me, I hate to admit defeat.
Confusion is all over, it's the only thing I know.
Confusion is all over, a light the path must show
Each day is a journey, the path can be quite long.
I get up, smile, and rise.I try to listen to, or, even write a few songs.
I am the one who holds the key, to the room of peace, and light.
I can't turn that key alone, though try to, I just might.
I understand my pain, where it came from, and how.
I know it hurt, I know it stung. I tasted the tears.
I have spent hours alone, days, even years.
I have alot of things figured out. I can add, subtract, multiply, and divide.
Yet when it comes to the most important thing of all, love, I seem to run and hide.
It's not that I don't need it. It's not that it isn't sweet.
It's so powerful when it visits me, I hate to admit defeat.
Confusion is all over, it's the only thing I know.
Confusion is all over, a light the path must show
Each day is a journey, the path can be quite long.
I get up, smile, and rise.I try to listen to, or, even write a few songs.
I am the one who holds the key, to the room of peace, and light.
I can't turn that key alone, though try to, I just might.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Getting my heart broke after dinner
Tonight, found me walking home after watching my team's dismal performance on Sunday Night Football. I walked into the living room of the hostel I live in to find a warm bowl of rice, and some live music in the living room. Sunday nights are a pot luck dinner, and are usually followed by some live music. There are consistent players, but the line up is always different. There was Mac, Brett, Marissa, Todd, and Lou that evening. Drums, bass, acoustic guitar, a shaker ala Marissa, and some great numbers. The first song was a great choice.
The old standard , made popular to my generation by Social Distortion, Ball and Chain set the ta contemplative show. I identified with that song. The droning of the riffs to that song capture depression well. Everyday the same. I used to be that hopeless. Drunk, on the streets,etc. I was nearly overcome with gratitude for a while, because I survived. This soon turned into me becoming depressed by the words and minor chords of that song.
Next was Amazing Grace, a bass guitar, singer, and harmonica, conveyed the love that is blind faith, and I was lifted to a point of being merely a conduit of emotion, a channel, nothing more.I just soaked in all the good intentions and it was enough.
After that was , Up On Cripple Creek. The bumbling happy go lucky ditty about a drunkard and his fat mama Bessie up in the hills had me a grinning. That is the power of music. To make you sad, to make you fall in love, to make you wanna fly, to make you wanna cry.
The next song was about a person reminiscing about their background in Appalachia and how all the trees, were logged and clear cut, along with their whole way of life. The sadness was right there, as the singer breathed in melancholy tones, I thought of all the sadness when reflecting on all the trees being gone from your homeland. Your relatives all dead, or moved away. Everyone you know, broke and hungry. Desperate, and beaten, just like the subject of Ball and Chain. The near suicidal result on the other side of that emotional equation had me left with two alternatives. Give up, or keep going. I decided to sleep, and listen to more music the next day.
The old standard , made popular to my generation by Social Distortion, Ball and Chain set the ta contemplative show. I identified with that song. The droning of the riffs to that song capture depression well. Everyday the same. I used to be that hopeless. Drunk, on the streets,etc. I was nearly overcome with gratitude for a while, because I survived. This soon turned into me becoming depressed by the words and minor chords of that song.
Next was Amazing Grace, a bass guitar, singer, and harmonica, conveyed the love that is blind faith, and I was lifted to a point of being merely a conduit of emotion, a channel, nothing more.I just soaked in all the good intentions and it was enough.
After that was , Up On Cripple Creek. The bumbling happy go lucky ditty about a drunkard and his fat mama Bessie up in the hills had me a grinning. That is the power of music. To make you sad, to make you fall in love, to make you wanna fly, to make you wanna cry. The next song was about a person reminiscing about their background in Appalachia and how all the trees, were logged and clear cut, along with their whole way of life. The sadness was right there, as the singer breathed in melancholy tones, I thought of all the sadness when reflecting on all the trees being gone from your homeland. Your relatives all dead, or moved away. Everyone you know, broke and hungry. Desperate, and beaten, just like the subject of Ball and Chain. The near suicidal result on the other side of that emotional equation had me left with two alternatives. Give up, or keep going. I decided to sleep, and listen to more music the next day.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
The sun rose at the low angle it always does this time of year in Oregon. I walked in the neighborhood this morning, and let the rays, and the light, infiltrate the blankness of my morning thoughts. I am relieved that most of the time, when I am blank, these days positive thoughts fill my head.
I left Colorado in June, with the pain of a break up, and an uncertainty of destination. I looked outward for a place to feel at home again. I only found more loneliness and strangers.
I hiked the coast, I hiked the mountains, and I looked for the places where no one was. They were beautiful, and empty. The beauty was only realized to half of its potential because I was alone.
I didn't need a romantic partner to fill the void, I wasn't sure what would cure the emptiness. with no other options,. I went to visit some friends and found out that people still wanted to hang out with me. I also found out how little my friends of years knew about me.
I decided that I want to make a go of staying here. I found a job that can be a career position.
I work for some great people, and I am looking to make the most of the opportunity.
I live in Eugene, and the peaceful, true hippie vibe here is awesome. Not that tune in, turn on, and drop out vibe. the vibe of no racism, freedom of thought and expression, and the diversity and vibrancy of a college town. That is nestled next to a logging town that is conservative. The dichotomy of this makes life here interesting.
I will look into that and share what I find later.
I left Colorado in June, with the pain of a break up, and an uncertainty of destination. I looked outward for a place to feel at home again. I only found more loneliness and strangers.
I hiked the coast, I hiked the mountains, and I looked for the places where no one was. They were beautiful, and empty. The beauty was only realized to half of its potential because I was alone.
I didn't need a romantic partner to fill the void, I wasn't sure what would cure the emptiness. with no other options,. I went to visit some friends and found out that people still wanted to hang out with me. I also found out how little my friends of years knew about me.
I decided that I want to make a go of staying here. I found a job that can be a career position.
I work for some great people, and I am looking to make the most of the opportunity.
I live in Eugene, and the peaceful, true hippie vibe here is awesome. Not that tune in, turn on, and drop out vibe. the vibe of no racism, freedom of thought and expression, and the diversity and vibrancy of a college town. That is nestled next to a logging town that is conservative. The dichotomy of this makes life here interesting.
I will look into that and share what I find later.
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