On a moonless night
the dimunition of myself
is completed.
I shrink below a plenitude
of stars
I’ll never know,
But always wonder at.
There is no recompense
I only take what I think
I need
And do what I think
I can.
In pensive moments, spent alone on a
wide waking dream
filled with seascapes
and bodies flopping sideways,
my boyhood calls and joy returns.
It is not in vain that again and again we ride
towards unyielding golden sands.
Again and again we repeat the motion
that to the uninitiated is
somewhere between art and sport;
somewhere between futility and here.
Something I cannot go without.
I ask them only to see:
glide to me
along wet cresting waves
and on towards an understanding of that
unending race towards shore.
It is not for love or pride,
not for friends whose goodbyes I never heard,
But to worship in the shrine that follows
the glassy shoulder.
I take it all in stride…
I ride,
My soul expanding
Boyhood calling
Seascapes forming waves to ride
places to survive
reaching forward into time;
cheer on the day and take
the weight of life away.
I ride.
Not for love or pride.
Only to take away
responsibilties–
life’s lessons learned.
Only to hear the cry of joy
released from inside.
To feel myself creating
joy with each heartbeat,
each paddle stroke,
each turn and snap
each fall and flailing
each time down a face I’m sailing.
I ride.
Not for what is out there,
But for the joy inside.
No one look for the trees,
a daily death is all it takes.
Wet and injust:
a steady breeze,
a falling rain.
Death is a daily necessity,
an intrinsic long-term solution to the problem of life.
But is mine necessary today?
The events lay ahead,
far beyond me.
This physical state:
A pyrotechnic display
of the life found
In my heart.
Today is not the day.
The love to comprehend
the feelings that answer to us,
Is all encompassing,
all unseeing.
Bow to the spirit of the rain,
the steady breeze.
And each day
he may be God,
he may be me;
When a future insecurity
comes ripe;
when the daily necessity,
the intrinsic long-term solution
to the problem of me, comes ripe.
No beauty in age,
just in the pyrotechnic heart
that you can see.
And that is truly me.
I’d never imagined this:
A life so filled, so stark…
What’s amiss?
That’s a question I ask and never answer.
The answer would scare me, I know.
The answer would set me free.
But I remain scared of that freedom, that answer.
I’m scared of me.
It’s a daunting thing, life.
I’ve accepted it, but have not yet come to terms with it.
I know not who I really can become,
afraid of the freedom that knowledge would afford.
But nothing is as it seems.
I’m really living this dream
Not knowing what or how or when,
Not caring for anything that I haven’t held.
I’ll go on, alright,
another day,
another night,
to follow on until a time, when
unable then to comprehend,
I’ll meet that inevitible end
I’ve thus far eluded.
Who do I kid?
When that time comes I won’t be ready,
won’t be any more than what I am now:
A living testament to how
one can drift through one’s own reality,
Never daring to come to terms with being free.
Never daring to be me.
Way too long I’ve waited and won
Exult me from the fear of things I’d never braved
I can see more than great laws allow
Impose your will upon my heart and
take away the loving part
I know not what I’d do right now
but given time to free me of this power
to take away the blinded age
that bears down toward untimely graves
I yawn a thousand long tired breaths
As birds chill me with a beating wind
A beating heart cannot warm when heart’s as cold
as the love and scorn
I have experienced this night.
I found myself apart from you
I found myself
My heart is true
for all quivering hearts that my
stately blade shall pass through
We’re done for now
we’re through.
It’s gone too long right now
transferred the last dead pain
I’ve lost all his faces
Lost all the things he said
There’s not a time gone by right now
Seeming all so pensive
I would have heard the bell toll
The last wedding-guest befriended
I act beneath myself for the time
Ancient bodies of water swing me by
I know I’d not have done this thing
I’d believe whatever blessed game we’ve played.
In another time I might
I shan’t not go on right now.
Time moves slowly now as I prepare to go
Alone here in this crowd of faces I’ll never know
It has just occured to me
That this life may never be
Free from the complications
Brought on by social machinations
That always surround and follow me.
People are everywhere it seems there’s no escape
Travelling just like me to find a better place
Such a place is only found
When the spirit of unrest is bound
And satisfaction is within
Happiness with who I am
To let that mental peace come back around.
A voice invades my head saying it’s time to board
The speaker is way too load only static can be heard
I’m leaving town again
To pass some time with good friends
Faces familiar to me now
That make me feel alive and how
I validate myself as a social being.
It’s a symptom of advancing age
the number of dead people you know
even those you thought invincible
Steadily that number grows
For people are always dying
Even the ones you believed in
and there comes a time in life
when your won mortality hits you
Faith in a book won’t save you
But an attitude toward life can break you
And feelings on death can free you
Even the feelings you believed in
I’d take it all in stride
when another friend of mine had died
And though the loss — it saddens me
There’s something to say for being free
And the loss of a friend bereaves you
Even the friends you believed in
It’s a symptom of advancing age
Even a fatalist will tell you
All the dead friends you ever loved
Cannot really save us
And life’s too good to let it pain us
For the friends we’ve loved
have made us
The friends we’ve loved
are who we are.
As I hand back the kids the time is sparsely gone
when the things I’d learned to love, and the things I’d left behind
where the things from which I’d come, to redeem and reform my world
the things I’d left for some time now to live the life I had.
I didn’t know it then, but I do not feel it now.
I cannot comprehend what it is I must live down
The things I hadn’t given up and farewelled over and again
I’d never release the patterns of frustrating harmony
In nothing more of wisdom, nothing more of fame
it is for which I live right now
the piousness had ground
to halt and free and release the mind from the relics of this game.
I don’t speak it now, and nor do I know the truth.
I cannot dare to bear it now, it’s just not good enough,
but this is all I have to go on, this is all I’ve got,
I will not speak, nor dare it be the one that’s good enough.
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