A survivor of a war
that will never be won
makes its way through the cracks
bent on finding the sun.
The tenacious invader,
Doing all that it can
just to live one more day.
The Snake and the SquirrelOne day, an old Burmese python was slithering through his jungle home when he passed by a pool of water. The snake turned back toward the pool to take a drink and as he approached it he saw a small, red-furred animal, eating a nut, in a forest on the other side of the water. Reflexively, the snake struck at the creature, through the water, but was abruptly met by the muddy ground beneath it. After taking a moment to come to his senses, the snake slithered around to the other side of the pool, closer to it. He carefully dipped his head into the water, but once again saw only the muck-ridden floor of the pool. As the snake was shaking his head dry, he saw the animal lift her head from her meal. The squirrel seemed to peer directly at him through the water.
Distracted, the squirrel carelessly dropped the plumpy nut it was treasuring. The tasty morsel fell off and rolled down into the water. She raised her tuffs in surprise, emitted a small cry of disappointment. In an attempt to retrieve
We're ThereAnd so, at last, we've reached the inevitable end,
the destination we've been chasing all along.
A bittersweet resolution to everything we've done
and now, I guess, it's time to say so long.
The Myth of IndependenceYou say "hell is other people.",
but where do you think you'd be
if everyone around you
shared your misanthropic view?
in a world of apathy,
what exactly is it
that you think that you could do?
Brain WaveFor so long I was stuck,
but then inspiration struck.
I found the right idea, at last
and now I'm on my way.
So That HappenedJust when I thought that it
was over, said and done,
something told me that
it's only just begun.
So I took another shot
and tried with all my might,
I only hope that it's
enough to make things right.
Misanthropic Abandon“Hell is other people”,
a wise man once did say
and from where I'm standing,
they can all just go away.
No one is an island,
but I'm damn sure going to try.
They only people I want to know
are me, myself and I.
MediocrityIn the mushy middle
right between loved and despised.
With no distinguishing features,
but potential unrealized.
It leaves no lasting impression,
just emphatic apathy
so all that's left to say
is that there's nothing here to see.
I'm FreeBreaking out of old
and their inherent
until all that's left
to embrace the
to say exactly
Shall I find thee all in ice ensnared,
the tree boughs stripped, the blossoms bared,
trapped in a wet and wintry grave -
the blight of snow and hoarfrost shared?
They brought you here, their souls enslaved.
The altar where your minions prayed -
a brilliant diadem of ice,
the offering that your cold heart craved.
They linger here whilst you entice
their frozen limbs as sacrifice.
Their wizened hands by you declared
the chosen few who paid your price
EurydiceHis voice enveloped me, and I became
Myself again--I heard it in the song:
A mordent on a note he held too long;
A stutter in his voice. I heard my name
In these and felt a happiness the same
As when I saw him first. Oh, I had longed
To hear him sing again, but this last song--
It was so beautiful. And it remains
The best of human works, though none shall hear
Its sorrowed notes; the lyre's meand'ring tune
Through vast arpeggios and Death's expanse
Except the dead. It will not disappear
'Till all the world's destroyed, and hell's exhumed--
Such music must be worth a backwards glance.
OrpheusDarkness encompassed me; high-vaulting fire
Leapt and burnt the vision from my gaze
But though I could not see, I strummed my lyre
Until the music swept away the haze
And I could stumble onwards through the mire.
Now I strum no more. What use are lays?
Save to remind me of my lost desire
That I betrayed--let silence fill my days!
For I, whose song once moved the gods to weep
No longer can make melodies from woe--
No dissonance expresses pain so deep
And no music can be as beautiful
As that which I have lost. Let others come
And fill the void with noise--I will not strum.
A Sad DayPlease don't let him bring you down
I don't want to watch you waste away
I wish I could run to your arms
And promise you a better day
I want you to surrender
The awful games you play
Just for once in your life
I wish you'd ask me to stay
I watch you from my window
As you give into his demand
I know you just want to be "cool"
And you think I don't understand
But as the days fly past
And I wait for your call
I start to think you don't care
Because I'm nothing at all
Then I get depressed
And slowly wither away
I can think of nothing else
Except that one day
When you told me I was yours
And you loved me true
Now I look in the mirror
And know I'm nothing to you
Logic In Wonderland"We're all mad Here!"
Well, if you're mad There
and I'm Here as well
that means I'm mad too!
And if Here is There
and that is Everywhere,
then one would think
that includes you!
we're all mad
And if Everywhere is Anywhere
that makes the whole world
and if Here is There or Anywhere,
that would make the whole world mad too!
It's a mad, mad place
when Everyone is mad.
It's a funny, funny place
in this crazy land
but if the world is mad
and we are too,
Here, There, Anywhere
even to Timbuktu,
and if the whole world is mad
and thinks the same,
then that would mean
no one is mad
everyone is just very,very sane.
IndulgenceDrink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
Sage advice to heed in youth -
Excess, a drug we justify.
And indulgence is better than the truth -
Drink and dance and laugh and lie.
So choose your partners without care;
Keep your scruples lean and few.
Temptation wanders everywhere -
Love the reeling midnight through.
Drink and revel one last time;
Seek out pleasure where it hides.
Restraint's an over-rated crime -
For tomorrow we shall die!
And in the dawn of pain's regret
With heads aflame and clothes askew,
We may promise to repent
(But, alas, we never do!)
Death to the Poet"Death to the Oracles, Gypsies of Light
Who see through blindness of man and his infinite night
Through the lies of the Fates and their wriggling tales
And hear oncoming days through time's shrieks and wails
Death to the Sorcerers, Gypsies of Force
Who weave fire from breath and sing winds off their course
Who lift Earth from it's patterns and craft boisterous rain
And trap stars in their palms, and suck suns in their veins
Death to the Mothers, the Gypsies of Life
Child's Deus Ex Machina, the hunting man's wife
The bearer of Futures, the giver of Souls
Who find shadows of crisis and swallow them whole
Death to the monsters shrieking in the mind
Of the man with whom tragedy and God are entwined,
Manipulating old words to invigorate youth
Death to the Poet, The Gypsy of Truth"
IndependenceOnce the wind caught on the sea
And its dress snagged upon the crests
Like a girl who couldn't help falling
For a boy with too many cracks
Then the wind tumbled between the waves
Crashing with the water when it couldn't find the sky.
I always wanted to live in the sky,
Wrap clouds around me--dip myself into the sea--
And wander into roaring waves
Of emptiness; Rush as the sun crests
Rush like wind and water into the cracks
Of myself, so that maybe I'll stop falling
For people who can't keep themselves from falling
Down, and who won't quit looking at the sky
So they can avoid all the cracks
In the sidewalk as they weave through a people-sea.
Well, I'm not used to riding the crests
Of others' success; I'll make my own waves.
So though my hair falls down in amber waves
I fear the strands will keep on falling
And my white-wash hands in lunar crests
Won't show you a spacious sky
Unless you want to see
Through star-spangled cracks.
Eyes and eggshells shattered, tiny cracks
And the tears stre