Would I had been

Would I had been, the man I wanted to be

Then I could say, simply, call me a friend

But life is filled with sin, life disallows the happy

 

It should have filled the soul, this drive to find and see

The way of others, the ease in which they blend

But they can’t see the man I wanted to be

 

I could try to change my heart, fill it with forms of glee

Pretend and play, immerse and trend

But that isn’t me, never feeling that free

 

If it’s for the good, I would be a tree

To stand and stay, to never bend

But my roots stay close, there’s no buzzing of any bees

 

I’m made of no wood, I have nowhere to flee

All through the day, I fear to transcend-

Fear they’ll arrive, to turn my key

 

So I raise up my hood, I make my agrees

I act as do they, fake and expend

Would I had been, the man I wanted to be

Maybe, then, I’d fit with society

 

 

A Question

I have a question, though from my breath it falls

It dances across the tongue, seeking simple thoughts

My voice it holds, then it blows, creating little squalls

 

The thought fills and flows, ’til mind no longer recalls

It lasts long within the lung, words beginning to clot

Air finally let’s go, just before the darkest walls

 

In my throes, the question returns, and stalls

It won’t be sung, refuses to be caught

I bow down low, taking a knee at the pitfalls

 

Speaking slow, I spread my hands and crawl

Feeling strung, I know not what I sought

The fated blow, refusal grabs my soul and hauls

 

Pain to my toes, wretchedness calls

To the crowd I’m flung, all this time for naught

The stairs glow, taking me to other halls

I will grow, throw myself off more waterfalls

The Gnomic Father Pt. 4

Go and grab your toys, you know the ones, you

don’t play with them anymore

Get your robots, your legos, and all

It’s time to show you where they fall

 

Place them in a box, arrange them as you will

Take your smiles and laughs and place them in as well

Grab your memories, stretch them long and let them swell

We’re going to take them where they can matter still

 

Filch the tape and bind it tight, we wouldn’t want

the gifts to break

They’ll find others and procreate

You need to stand strong, when they haunt

 

Now set it down, let the donation soak

You’ll find life is better to better folk

Hope

Hope is a feckless bully

When you think you’ve lost it all, he appears

He drives you in the morning, keeps your eyes open when you should sleep

He forces you to carry him, always trying to share that burden with others

He’s a monster of unimaginable force, a dictator of your soul

He only fades and disappears when you forget him

Only reappearing when another soul feels his brush

That First Day

Those shakes, that uncertainty

No day is worse than the first

What will happen, what can’t be reversed

The fear tears at you, drives itself into a wavering spine and goes further

Do you know anyone, are you walking through a blind maze

What happens when feet meets threshold, what can I hope to change

Vanishing is a hope, transparency a fear, it’s friendship I need to survive

Mr. Williams

What to say when life’s away, when we knew our betters

Oh he was a fine man, just, quite unlike the rest of us

That pinnacle of strength, that hater of unneeded fuss

He died just like any other man, while only we knew the taste of bitter

 

Died? Murdered say I, Murdered by restriction, Murdered by fate

He lived and died by his own rules, his own way

None but those close could see, just what shone in his eyes

His prickled beard and sliding laugh, they all hid his cries

 

He touched a million hearts and minds, breaking life’s monotony

Lover of all, but never enough, to fill his empty hole

He brought us joy, filled our hearts with gladness, shivered along our souls

But in the end, fate decreed loudly, you’ll end life in agony

 

So there he sings, up with his wings, telling jokes from above

All we say, even to pray, may the earth lie light upon thee

The Collector

She’s a collector of simple things

The breakdowns, the sheared hair, the open vein

She collects them all, nothing missed

If owned by lessers and their greaters

 

She places them in a box

Not a 7-sided thing like Pandora’s

But a box of light, remembering better times, and

opened with a key of understanding, a key of growth

 

She meanders as she walks, touching here and there

Always looking for her next trophy, her next piece of the puzzle

She doesn’t always find what she needs, but

she does always find a helping hand

When the night swiftly courses, bringing its daily offerings and empty platitudes

She walks her path, leaving resolution and missed cravings in her wake

 

 

America

Let America be America again

When leadership becomes readership, we may have lost

When a diving rhetoric swallows the impoverished, we may have lost

When crossed lines fade and forget, we may in fact be lost

 

Let America be true again

Let it’s lost sons and daughters enter with a welcome

Let its fathers and mothers find their true value

Let its honesty break in waves against the buttresses of hatred

 

Let America shine again

Shine a light through its muckrakers on our baronies

Shine a halo on the poor and starved, saving our most needy

Shine through a shadow disgracing our great country, covering all with its malevolence

 

Allow America to find itself

Allow it to find it’s empathy, find it’s heart

Allow it to recall it’s roots, to hear it’s sweet music once again

Allow it time, time before it breaks, shatters into so many smaller kingdoms

 

 

Confidence

In the palm there lies a two-headed coin

On one side lies arrogance, with its strut and pride

On the other lies confidence, with its strength and fallibility

When do the two become one? When should you rely on one and not the other?

There are times when arrogance is needed, when you know not what to do but need the appearance of the stronger

Just as there are times when confidence can be weakness, those times you believed you could accomplish the task but failed to ask for help

They both sound the same, look the same, act the same, but there is a difference within

The arrogant hold fear, the confident do not.

I know not which is better.

 

Oh Zeus, you mighty god of passion

Why have you cursed so many with your lascivious nature

When Eros cast his arrows, did he miss your heart, hit your belly and fracture

Can you not feel for those you clubbed with your actions

G reatest of sons, patricidal bastard, did Cronus forget to teach manners

You created man, with all his worries and doubts, allowing monsters to form

You, Zeus, slapped weakness into men, making the birds and the worms

Yet you demanded prayer, holy construction, holding no standards

Is your lightning a symbol of strength, orĀ  just a design for the uncontrolled

Your seed spread misery far more than love, yet proclaimed your love of men greatest of all

Twas not men you loved, nor the children, but the spreading of seed, the unnerving gall

When your time faded, it went quite fast, your heritage gone, your history’d erode

Thus have you left us, all caught in your clout, sprawling and flailing around

We, the progeny, still can’t disguise, that when it comes to men, we’re under-divine