Today I will be the strings that I strum;
Gently thundering by the will of my thumb,
Constantly changing by rhythm and tone,
Based on my finger—No-- based on my bone.

Today I will be the tack in the wall
Providing stability for friends in need,
I won’t let them loose, I won’t let them fall!
And I’ll show them that they can trust me.

Perhaps a digression, perhaps a mad switch
Perhaps I’m acting like a *******
But always being taken advantage of
Starts to strain my love… so…

Tomorrow I will be servant to no one.
Going about the day until my day is done.

But today I’ll be those strings that I strum
And tonight I’ll just fill my throat with ***.

The subtle glowing cave,
Walls humming softly with the energy
of ideas waiting to be born.
Whispers wafting from
space to paradoxical space,
drifting peaceably and holding
the awaiting moment by the hand.
This quiet dance soothes the soul,
calms the senses,
and restores the heart.
The gentleness of this equilibrium is
so delicate,
so fragile,
that it is often overlooked...
Until in a flash, a boom, a blink-
The offspring of the mind races forth
and disrupts the movement.
The translucent child
runs to and fro,
playing joyously amid the
vast expanse of matter
and exploring all of its wonderland.
It cries out in a loud voice,
for no other reason than to hear itself.
And runs, just to feel itself running.
If the child is noticed,
if the space gives it room to run and yell,
to be and to play,
then it grows.
It grows and forms.
It becomes complex and
more alive,
gaining depth and body
along with age and possibility.
The no-longer child
becomes full and real over time.
Gratefully accepting the space it has been given
and boldly asking for more
until it innocently consumes all.
Then,
Its impossible to ignore.
The cave becomes too small,
and the no-longer child must be let free.
It must be spoken of,
acted on, and lived out.
It must be accepted into other caves,
being reborn in the same manner as before,
but quicker, with more intensity,
it begins to spread.
It must.
It must be loved by some, and hated by few.
It must  challenge traditions with the desire to recreate.
It must.

I first met God when from me he bummed a cigarette,
I asked him how I can win this bet,
and to let go of her and be ok,
he asked which girl with a smile in a way,
I said all of them because I just want to hear all of them say,
you were alright,
he took a drag and said we had met before,
when I was again in Florida I was feeling this down and poor,
we had a drink,
you asked what this life was all about,
and with a smile with shades of a pout,
I told you that only you could figure that out,
his cigarette was done and so was mine,
I asked again if this was just a waiting line,
or just a road covered with dust,
he flicked it and said that I always will have my lust,
for the future,
for the present,
for the past,
and I may feel like in the line I am last,
but really there is no line or road,
and this isnt a secret code,
he said I was ok,
then asked for another cigarette.

You have to find the right distance
between people.
Too close,
and they overwhelm you,
too far
and they abandon you.

I see you,
As I see you somedays,
Burned upon my retina,
It's how the demons play,
They torture me,
With thoughts of you,
The person that,
I thought I knew,
But I thought wrong,
Now all I do,
Is think of how,
It wasn't true,
The friend I thought,
I'd never lose,
Left me with,
A mind stained blue,
To match a heart,
That's missing you.

I hear them crying
just under the surface,
crying outside the flock.
It's agonizing to hear
such innocent ones suffer,
so agonizing,
I want to cover my ears.

And though
I pray to
silence them,
I fear the loneliness more.

So I listen,
alone in the darkness,
desperate to
hear them sing,
to hear them cry,
"Baaaaaa, baaaaaa"
to me crying here,
just to feel alive.

i started out this morning
determined to remember the things i forgot
and those things in my life
that I could not
turn off the bitter cold
that resides within the hot
that's how I started out this morning
to remember the things I forgot

as the day progresses
i travel to where it is i've been
stepped into the revolving door
and revolved around again
back out on the inside
where it all began
that's how the day progresses
look at where i've been

as evening participates
bringing with it a knowing surprise
so as not to give it away
i close my one open eye
living for this moment
like a man who has just died
that's how my evening participates
is anyone surprised

this day has been a wonder
as i wonder where i'm at
counting on my fingers
to see what i have left
as i slide through this life
leaving out what has been said
this day has been a wonder
as i wonder where i'm at

i see you in the silence
and the blanks of
mind. crazy how violence
says more about love
and its power. the contrast
is fading unlike your
eyebrows, and the last
drop of sanity hits the floor.
thoughts of you as
your actual presence,
because your absence has
finished its evanescence.

So I was standing knee deep in a river's stream.
What a beautiful day it's every fisherman's dream.
I cast my line out and let the current work.
And every now and then I'd give my pole a ****.

Suddenly I heard the snapping sound of a stick.
I dropped a load in my pants that felt like a brick.
And there standing not more than 50 yards away.
But a grizzly bear in the sparkling sun of May.

I slowly start to back up planning a retreat.
The last thing I want is to be a midday treat.
Well I moved too fast and splashed in the water.
It certainly appeared I'd be this hungry bear's fodder.

So I hit dry ground and climbed the nearest tree.
I thought to myself, Aha, he'll never find me.
Little did I know a bear's prowess for climbing.
Yes that whimpering sound you hear is me whining.

As the bear got closer I thought of my demise.
I planned to be strong despite my painful cries.
I could hear his growling and his teeth were sharp.
My head started swooning and I heard an angel's harp.

But at the last moment the bear heard a sweet sound
And this caused him to **** his head around.
What could be more interesting than some living meat?
Well a gorgeous female bear in the throes of heat.

He quickly rappelled down that tree in great haste.
It's not often that a bear will let a meal go to waste.
As the couple sauntered off I saw him turn his head.
That look said any other day and you'd be dead.