sometimes I sit around and wear out my eyes
figuratively exposing this blinding life
for what it will and what it should lead to.
b-sides of this awesome group of bards
reaching out with angst, reaching out far
but this strange feeling in my core
will be tapped forevermore, when I concentrate
and reclaim my grasp from a later date
this people will become sensitive to sensitivity
and the irony will play out, to you, you, and me
if only a trip was safe
if only brain loss and traffic didn’t exist
then so many lives would never erase
themselves and leave us with the rest of this
so, my lovers and friends alike
teach yourself over again, and decide what’s the right
place to settle down, and doctrine to follow around.
hear wisdom from an old man’s voice
but understand that it holds all his life’s choice
and can set you high, or bring you down
There is something occurring to me
in a sort of centrifugal force
of the ocean kind of pattern.
The chop and ebb of the ceaseless brainwaves
and the breaking emotional tide,
create a natural phenomena
that doesn’t seem to have been mapped out
or explained in any hyper-rational way.
I must accept this for it’s dark beauty.
My mind is not to be set on auto-pilot
or to be settled into some simplistic state.
Coming off Paxil, it wasn’t meant for me.
I have the tools, the insight, the courage needed
to meet my fears, my desires, my life
head clear, head on.
In one day a man could lose a fight.
In one day a man could die.
In one day a man could make love to a woman.
In one day a man could pick up his sword.
In one day a man could grow up.
In two days a man could pick a fight.
In two days a man could be so empty, dying wouldn’t help.
In two days a man could make love to another.
In two days a man could pick up his pen.
In two days a man could grow old.
In three days a man could hold his own.
In three days a man could alleviate his pain.
In three days a man could never love another woman.
In three days a man could follow his heart.
In three days a man could grow wise.