May
17
2003

In Front of Me

by Stephen Messer

I don’t want this night to end!
I haven’t got a friend….
I don’t care about that now.
I look out and see just how
the beauty of the moon
dances across a sea–
The calamity of the bay
and the waves breaking in front of me.

I don’t want this day to end right now!
I’m not ready to fall asleep.
I want to look out at the stars
and wonder, so deep.
There’s not enough time
to do the things I want.
To go the places,
to feel the feelings,
that I want to bring
into this heart–
into this mind–
into the being that I am.
Coz’ life’ is too short and life is too good
To give up who I am.

Life is too short and life is too good
To go through everything I have too.

I don’t what this night to end right now!
I don’t want to forget,
the sight of the dancing moonlight
across the bay in front of me;
the sound, the smell,
the air, and the waves breaking in front of me.

posted in Personal, Social, Songs | No Comments

May
17
2003

Fighting is Irony

by Stephen Messer

There is an irony in the fact
that a soldier must kill
to protect what he is killing at home,
By chance or ill-will.
For the army destroys cultures
at home and abroad;
An army is the last thing that
this earth needs any more.

For an army kills an enemy
to protect what they believe is right
But in doing so the army’s needs
outweigh the human rights
To an education, a life
a land of liberty;
To the things he says he defends
in the name of being free.

But the budgets and the expenses
and the monies taken there
to support a military’s actions
in destroying the cultures there,
is exactly what destroys
the cultures they have at home
and in destroying any culture,
an untold loss is known.

Because it is the varied peoples
of this planet I embrace;
It is the varied cultures that
give colour to this place.
It is the individuality
of each person that I see
Too often lost in tormented anger,
war, or misery.

But the cultures destroyed at home
cultures destroyed abroad
A military exists to destroy
not to protect or to free,
And I do not support
The things that are done
in the name of this country.
I do not support the ubiquity
of commercial avarice and greed.

There is no excuse
there is no way to tell
what we are destroying
is our very selves.
And I for one
cannot condone or support the agony
that is being extolled on others
and surreptitiously extolled on me.

posted in Poems, Social, Songs | No Comments

Mar
09
2003

Too Drunk to Care

by Stephen Messer

I might find solace in the feeling that tomorrow brings
There is no satisfaction when surrounded by these things
I take an aspiration and I sink it into the mire
that comes with no possibility of reaching what I aspire to

So you might forget the memories of how far you fell to there
I don’t believe in blindly following the leaders everywhere
It echoes an angry admonition from some authority
when we’re waiting wearily for the comfort of being free

It is without regret that we resign from your race
The wall’s too high there’s no escape, no exit from this place
We choose to leave in solitude and not be part of this
We choose to leave it all behind in inebriated bliss

So just for a night I’ll escape from what I have seen
Alcohol to numb the pain of everyone that I have been
So just for right now I’ll shut out everything
And until tomorrow morning I’ll be too fucking drunk to think

I might find solace when no there are no feelings to be felt
Can’t go on living life with this, the hand that I have been dealt
So I’ll take those aspirations and try to exit from the mire
Try to reach for goals beyond all that I aspire to

I can’t go on regretting memories of how far I fell to here
Didn’t follow anyone but was paralyzed by fear
Fear of what might happen and who I might become
So let me out of here let me face the music and run

So just for a night I’ll escape from what I’ve seen
Alcohol to numb the pain of everywhere that I’ve been
So just for right now I’ll shut out everything that is out there
And until tomorrow morning I’ll be too fucking drunk to care

So just for right now I’ll shut out everything that is out there
And until tomorrow morning I’ll be too fucked up to care

 

posted in Personal, Social, Songs | No Comments

Feb
03
2003

Disheartened Graces

by Stephen Messer

I believe in the present
but not in your lord,
I believe in a spirit here
that’s fighting for more.

I believe in the righteousness
of what lays within
the crowd devil’s sword that
prevents it from being

this bone and lust kills me with a
bitter forced sadness
when I held it all in
I wasn’t able to express

the disheartened graces
a thousand wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I’m born with

For alone standing naked
before the mirror I see
Not a mind, not a spirit
But a body that isn’t me

I force away sadness
that trapped here I am
and live life as best as I
possibly can

I can’t die just yet, though
I’m not ready now
For perfection evades me
and a book barely made me

believe in a future
that’s not quite here yet
A future I’ll die in
without any regret.

the disheartened graces
a hundred wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I was born with
the disheartened graces
a thousand wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste is
the agony I live with
the disheartened graces
a million wrinkled splotches
a feeling that this waste was
the agony I’ll die with

the disheartened grace
and a clean shaven face
a feeling that the waste was
the key to perfection

the disheartened graces
all of the waste is
a key to perfection
I’ll go that direction…

And alone standing naked
before the mirror I see
Not a mind, not a spirit
But a body that is the key
not a mind, not a spirit
but a body on loan to
the spirit that is me

And alone standing naked
the disheartened graces
keys to perfection
keys to be me…

posted in Introspection, Metaphysical, Personal, Poems, Songs | No Comments

Jan
17
2003

Mountains

by Stephen Messer

And the snow it glows in the moonlight there
and the cold of the night fills the air,
I go onward and forward and faster towards
the mountains that will bring unseemly rewards.

The white fields glow by the light of the moon,
And an eerie presence prevails as I arrive too soon.
for the journey is what this place is about
the journey to myself where I can find out about

all the things that I’ve hidden deep within a soul of mine
‘coz I can’t bear to think of what I’ve lost in this life.
The world outside beckons and those mountains call
And I’ll welcome the challenge to ride them all.

There are moments of bliss and moments of joy
as I carve down the mountain, a gleeful little boy.
For it is just a past-time but much more than that:
It is an eternity in each moment, you can’t take away that,

For gravity and powder, snow and arcing turns
something I long for and will forever yearn,
and gravity and snow and face shots galore
keep bringing me back for more and for more.

And I’ll take on the challenge and I’m ready now
And I’ll be there tomorrow as the mountains arouse
within me a spirit that I’ve not know before
within me the key to open this door

To another world beyond the moments of my soul
To where I can feel once again whole.
It is just a pastime but much more than that,
It is what I live for when I think about that.

And so I’ll discover myself in those turns,
and so I will leave my marks and my curves,
and so I will share with my friends who I am
And I’ll share with the mountain what I know I’ve become

And much more than this and to be true to myself
I won’t take on the mountain–I’ll take on myself.
It’s myself that’s the challenge not the mountain that’s there
It’s myself I must conquer to really go there.

posted in Metaphysical, Nature, Poems, Songs | No Comments

Dec
29
2002

Inward

by Stephen Messer

Empty dreams leave the winding years behind us.
Each sun, each moon, comes and goes;
a god-bearing luminescence over all
the empty paths I’ve trodden.

Blossoms on the vine that strangles;
beauty masking surreptitious tragedy,
as masked remains this
distracted life.

I sway to the sound of stars and beats
distracted from the lowly feats
of complacency,
to which most slave away
around a box with moving pictures,
a window to a world they’ll not partake in.

It is a rush of awe that awakens me
to cut into the heart,
shivering with the anticipation
of a wind to melt this day’s last sun rays
into the oblivion of another star-specked night.

Such, with the passing of the swaying sounds of
stars and beats,
here, replete with intoxicated distractions,
I look at him and see a mirror
reflecting what I would become.

But one difference remains:

I understand the reflection is not the self;
the day is not just distraction.
The predilection for swaying sounds and beats
is the mystery complete.

To make that music feel as it was,
I shall go again to where I belong:

inward,
along the least empty paths I know.

posted in Introspection, Kisner Collection, Personal, Poems, Social | No Comments

Dec
24
2002

Shrink No More

by Stephen Messer

When will I not shrink
before the curves of your face?
There is no reason to hide
my own infatuation,
my own fear of falling,
fear of getting up
and going down.

I see
a wind-licked lip to hit,
contours to keep me
on edge as I carve my
own curves on yours;
a soft and secret armor,
your curves, your coverage,
your base.

I see
chutes to take me down,
bumps to send me up,
distant valleys, skies and friends
to go with me to this run’s end.

I see
something I love,
and do not understand.
Futile, perhaps, to the uninitiated;
the soul is freed,
the mind is rested,
the body tired.
There is no futility here.

I see
exhileration in my future,
freedom from anything that
is not here and now.

Freedom
on the snow-capped mountain,
from which I shrink
no more.

posted in Personal, Poems, Songs | No Comments

Dec
20
2002

The Things that Free Us

by Stephen Messer

We are imprisoned by the things that free us;
I remember the freedom of my first car,
and the ensuing enslavement to transportation.

I remember the freedom of my first love,
and the enslavement of emotional attachment.

we are freed by the things that enslave us;
I remember the freedom of my first paycheck,
the enslavement of the job that gave it to me.

We are freed by the things that free us.

Death.

posted in Personal, Poems | No Comments

Nov
07
2002

Another Day

by Stephen Messer

It’s a strange and incoherent mess I’m in
It’s beginning to feel as if I’ve turned within
I’m living the parts of dreams I never even had
I’m dreaming of things I once had taken for granted

But the life it is this way
and I’ll go on today
to the trouble of things I dreamed before
I don’t know if I can take any more
I think when it all began
I was just another man
searching for truth in what I would say

What will it take to understand these times
I’ve lost the motivation to stand in lines
The freedom sacrificed for what I have now
But is it sacrifice if I want it anyhow

But the life it is this way
and I’ll go on today
believing in things I had dreamed before
I knew I would not take any more
I think when it all began
I was just a poor lost man
searching for truth in what I would say

It’s a strange and incoherent mess I’m in
I wonder if there is a chance that I’ll give in
to the dreams that I have left behind
the dreams I really do not mind

if I take them on
will I take them on
if I take them on
what I leave behind
everything I’ve ever done

All alone
Am I alone?
All all alone
Yes I’m alone

And if I feel what you say has any truth any way
today is just another day

posted in Introspection, Social, Songs | No Comments

Oct
20
2002

All That Keeps Me

by Stephen Messer

How quickly yesterday’s great future
became the longing incompleteness of today.
We drive onward through the regret
Of yesterday’s lost hopes,
life’s abrupt changes
scattered about in
newspaper stories of the day.

The illusion takes the eye to darkness;
I amuse my heart with countless reminiscences.
This sorrow bittered by
the lost plans that could never have been.

The morning bursts through to end
another night I’ve lived through.

I see
the holes in this existence
as missing pieces of a jigsaw puzzle,
where one can see the whole,
can see what could have been,
but remain frustrated at the incompleteness,
of what never will be.

Such is today.

And the great future I see from today
is all that keeps me.

It’s all that lets me down.

posted in Kisner Collection, Personal, Social | No Comments

« Previous Posts
Newer posts »

  • Recent Posts

  • Random Posts

  • Archives

  • Categories