never have i felt such a contented bliss
than to feel the quiet in a world such as this

to pack my belongings within my mind
and travel the world with such wonders to find

to journey across both space and time
to live in a world that is simply mine

never has such a love unfurled
within the pages of another world

Ignore the veiled murmur beneath
the social graces and party conversation

excuse this bland ****** arrangement
feigning interest in tales worn thin
cruising the same old Memorial Parkway.

This, and the embedded gravel
marking each grim rotation:

expectation
disappointment
anger

the weight of relentless perfection.

Like wild oats
the lonesome poets
grow in the ditches
alongside back roads
and when it rains
they drink too much
like the low cotton
in dry fields forgotten
by dirt poor farmers
whose wives run off
with the first stranger
who wipes his shoes
on the porch before
selling her a pretty pair
of green lace underwear
like a bird sick of its tree
dreaming of new leaves.

I try to keep things simple
In my simple day to day
Simple in the way I walk
Simple in the things I say

I always try to think good
Good in everything I see
Good in everything I hear
The good in everybody

If I can keep this standard
Hold tight this philosophy
I am hoping all in life
Will go well for them and me

I try to love with all my heart
To keep rooted to the ground
I try my best to play every part
In what comes around goes around

As I try and keep it simple
Makes it all much easier to figure out
In what I go through, everything that I do
A complicated life doesn't go over so well

Did you see them take the green fields
one by one, now line by line on hills in echelon?

Still, holding ground held holy by their sons;
no longer marching to the smoke and drum.

Where bugler called the day to final rest,
now silence grows like lichen on the stones.

For those who gave their all at our behest,
our memories alone will not atone.

Do you see the fires burning at a distance,
and more hallowed ground broken day by day?

Each new stone laid a fading reminiscence;
each new boquet soon fading into gray.

What better way to honor sacrifice
than to pause and speak their names aloud.

Until the gods of war are pacified;
until our flag no longer serves as shroud.