New Song

This morning I picked up my Martin guitar and wrote this song in less than 20 minutes. It came to me in it’s completed form. I wrote it down as it arrived in my consciousness.  Virtually no words were changed. No words were scratched out. I love the superconsciousness and my brain.

Abuse

Momma’s in the middle

Poppa’s on top

All I can think about is please make this stop

I’m on the bottom

Not knowing what to do

I don’t know if I should love you

Or if I want to kill you

Refrain:

Come alive, my thunder rise

Please make me want to survive

Demons in the closet

Buring my heart

Taking years to the surface

The pain from the start

Did nothing to deserve it

I was just a kid

Wanting life to be better

Instead of what it is

 Refrain:

Come alive, my thunder rise

To make me want to survive

He thought it’d make me better

To toughen me up

Adding rights to that wrong

Is just really messed up

I had to make a decision

This wasn’t my end

I’ve had to work on forgiveness

Just for survival again

Refrain:

Come alive, my thunder rise

To teach me how to survive

First Love

First Love

What if we’d never met?

What if we’d never kissed?

A first love would have still materialized.

And the emotion attached would still exist.

However, the universal connection of souls would have been altered.

How do we value one relationship to another?

Fascinating.

Just a thought!

Never ending Love;

There are loves that are so sweet, that they should never be forgotten, no matter what the initial time continuum.

We need to nourish them, not condemn them, as some assassinators of truth.

If we are truly here for a short time, and our purpose is to experience as much bliss as possible, then, if we do not compromise trust and devotion, then we should be able to contain ourselves, morally, in order to drink in this dimension of time and space.

What fun!  What exciting anticipation!  Is it harmless?  I truly believe it is, in that no harm should come to others, emotionally, or physically.

Spirits can come together and, momentarily, spiral around each other, drinking in the moment.

An Anniversary of Freedom

Sometimes only poetry can satisfy the soul.

Is it too late in love we life, whose striven longer or lust we crave

For wanton sharing of memories daze our minds for now or long lost days

Your beauty crests as sea to bow, from side to side as rhythm stays

And I must simply wait the tide for your return to mark my ways

And we are lost in transient weaves for sure of what we walk to cleaves

Of unknown shelter of content to what we wish for, lives unspent

For when all  thoughts can vanish blind to wisdom of the ages kind

For lessons learned, so much to bear, ignite the flame, explode the flare

Our souls unite in flight to sky, the cosmic essence of our lives.

On Passing of Friends

Lest We Forget

Dr. Raymond Babineau

Was it yesterday or the day before that we met?

There was so much ahead to see, no need to revisit, only new

Friendships came easily and we thought they would last forever,

Naïve or strong belief that it could be different than our parents

Days seemed endless, and nights only a fleeting moment

Each day was a vacation

“Some day” seemed so far away, like Ferlingetti footsteps in the sand,

Making a difference was the most important

Then life got in the way.

Rolling Stones’, Keith Richards said that life is what happens when you are making plans

For something else

One day speeds into the next, like running water from a faucet, continuous

Pictures remind us of our past, lost, but not forgotten

We resist even taking a picture so the reminder cannot be cast as a shadow in our way

Some are melancholy, some never think.  It’s easier that way.

That way there is the numbness that can keep us from thought.  It’s called routine.

Like doing door to door.  Bedroom to bathroom, bathroom to kitchen, kitchen to car,

Car to office, office to office, office to car, car to home, home to solace, solace to sleep,

Only to repeat like the emails that won’t go away

The reason to play is for the one shot,

Like golf, there is one that keeps us looking for the next.

Of course there are the kids.

Just the thought makes the eyes sweat because men don’t cry.

The vessel of Hope holds so much

A cornucopia and a cacophony,

Like constant alliteration that runs off the page onto the next

Then being positive, sometimes, just sucks

Wallow can feel so good, like the warm feeling of relief as a young child in the middle of the night

Fatigue makes cowards of us all

Cause without contrast, how can we know the bold colours

Brian Tracy says that life is a series of problems, occasionally interrupted by catastrophes

Looking forward, however, has the best rewards, like blue ribbons that can line the walls

New friends, new day, new-ness

The freshness of knowing the world is better off because we’re here

Reminding us that all is well, not missing

“In touch” can cost so little,

Even Hallmark has no corner on the market

A note, a photo can hold so much thought and memory

Like a run-on sentence that doesn’t stop for a breath for fear of interruption

The best memories are the ones with sweetness

Worth the revisit

Was just thinking of you, then

God Bless