A captain always goes down with his ship
There is honor in that, valor
Guns blazing as you sink, defiant to the end
I never understood where they got the courage
Found a cause worth dying for
Why not be captured?
Isn't prison better than death?
Those Lords of the high seas, they always seemed so confusing to me

I think I understand it now though
Staying attached to a lost cause
Because when you invest so much of yourself in something
It is really, really hard to let it go
So despite odds that most likely will crush you
You battle on, heels dug in, back to the wall
This love is a poison, and she will be the death of you
But you continue fighting the good fights; it is all you know how to do

There Is But One Law
(The Dancer's Coda)


There is but one set of laws,
One that need be obeyed,
One that brooks no heresy,
One that gives no absolution.
One that needs no priests, no canons,
One that that refuses disobedience.

We all bend knee at altar invisible,
Though feasance never requested.

The Laws of Physics.

A body at rest, a body in motion.
Laws immutable, unconditional,
Equations, proofs, demonstrable,
Inequalities inexcusable, banished.

Dancer says:
I am heretic, even these laws I refuse.
My body denies limitations,
My mind believes I will make do
What it could not, but yesterday.

Defiance from wire to wire is the
Fuel in my veins, fear but a detail,
Leaping from from ten meters more,
My Declaration of Independence.

My body plastic, my mind ethereal,
Some mock, call it trickery,
Some hail, call me hero.

There are forces greater than mine,
Forces irrevocable, mathematically superior.
Each day my force grows as well,
Visions imagined supersede the
Tedium of definitions, of boundary lines.

Bend the law, conquer the null, fill the void.

Each day sketch, devise, organize a
New rebellion, follow only one command,
Honor but a single battle cry.

Leap, then fall!

That dancer, your only law,
That heretic, thine only coda.
Action is freedom.

For you are dancer,
Whisper as you leap:
The Fifth Freedom I possess,
The Freedom to Fall.

May 17th, 2013

Shall I keep the friendship we shared?
Shall I continue to honor it by remembering what we did?
Shall I remember the first time you spoke to me
and all the fun things we did thereafter?
For some reason, you just stood a little further from me
Bit by bit,
and now, you're too far away. When I reach out my hand
You can't grab it. If this was a sinking ship,
I can't save you.
You can't save me either.
Shall I forget what used to be you and what used to be me?
Right now, you've found a newer land, a greener grass,
but you wouldn't let me step on it,
you just bid me goodbye slowly but you're being so cold.
You wouldn't tell me directly if you're simply pushing me away;
you're like a block of ice I'd slide down a hill and let it break into many pieces.
Stop being so cold, at least, but if that's what you want to be:
icy, distant and unfamiliar,
I wondered where the old you had disappeared.

I bid goodbye to her forever.

A new day will come and I will shed my old skin and
all my memories formed with it.

A black rose
Lain across thier coffin door
Pedals are withered
Thorns are dull
Leaves are gone
Blew away on the whispering breeze
In honor of the dead
I present this rose
Death and decay have kissed its beauty
Now even more beautiful
As it slowly falls apart
Like thier mothers and fathers
Crying tears of sorrow and relief
Knowing they are gone is devastating
Knowing they no longer
Have the cancer eating at your insides
Like pirahnas in your viens
Or having to fight a war
Waged for the most redundant reasons
In honor of the dead
I cry no tears
I simply salute them
My friend you are gone
Yet never shall they be forgotten
I present them this black rose
Red still dressing the outlines of satin pedals
Like blood on cotton sheets
In honor of the dead
I'll carve monuments with blank faces
Unknown men and women
Still missing after years of searching
So many have suffered
In honor of the dead
I'll carve my tears in the form of roses
On every headstone
In honor of the dead
I whisper lullabies in the moonlight
Sing songs of joy
Dance with thier ghost
As pedal tears fall from my eyes
In honor of the dead
I present this black rose
Red still dressing the outlines of satin pedals
Fortunate to be kissed by the lips of death
Blessed with the numbing of thier pain
Honored to rest weary bones

We're a seppuku generation minus the honor,
In dead-end alley cause we saw a dollar,
Led there by our corporate 'benefactors',
We are skid-row,
Juvenile junkies
who ignore what they know.
We made this choice
to fall like the stars,
But we fell so low
it was never too far.

"It's better to burn out
than to fade away"
Or so they say.

We don't need a prophet,
We're never alone,
When you're not looking
is when we'll bring it on home.
With Kazantip as our Mecca
and rave as our god,
We pray every weekend
cause this is who we are.
You can judge us,
We like it.

Confidence, empowerment, strength
don't matter when he's calling to her.
She feels his eyes on her.
She's afraid
and maybe it's not his fault.
It's not his fault she's afraid,
but she knows what he can get away with.

In her world "he" is synonymous with violence.
It was a man who beat her mother in front of her.
It was a man who stalked her mother
until all her hair fell out and they had to move towns.
It was a man who first threatened her with a belt.
It was a man who loomed over her girl-body
and took it without asking.
It was a man who berated her until she quit her job.

She's afraid and it's a surprise to him.
He doesn't understand.
He thinks he's flattering her.
He thinks she likes it.
Why wouldn't she?

The policeman asks her, "Who did this to you?"
but all she can tell him is,
"It was a man", as she cries into her hands.

She prays for a son
so she can teach him respect, honor, gentleness.
She prays for a son
so she can sleep at night without worry for a daughter's fear.

She curses the mothers who teach their sons not to cry
and the fathers who teach with fists and belts.
She curses the government for using the bodies of young men
as a weapon.

They tell and show us about space debris this matter that freely floats in the vastness of space
There is a comparison to the inward being many emotional breezes come unannounced they
Live in these treasured sightings the wind undulating across the prairie grass it first is caught by
The eye then it is drawn down deep into the soul how much bigger and newer life it gets when
The great magnate of all life receives it invests in it truth value the outward being can never
Know take the common fire from a campfire the mystery rises from the crackle and the leaping
Flames no longer is it just chatter but it is soul talk produced in depths of wonder that emerge
At the surface level bestowing gold from common folds of life or the majestic views of
Mountain grandeur Vaulted sky
Shaded canyon breathtaking heights does the angry wind speak if so in a whisper the granite peaks austere and bleak seem to frown on the trees and lowly grass lands with their fertility and ease of growth. While he the monarch bristling with his cold barren armor of granite invites the stares the awe inspired gratitude of nature and mortal man he knows there dreams and thoughts how many have stood at the edge of wonder on his brow with fainted hearts. Their thoughts drift out and away ever upward reaching the clouds filled and clothed with mountain air brightly they are displayed in these untamable rays. Voices of the ancient ones still echo their wisdom still resounds in the summer thunder they visited and released many a tortured soul. Before Blind they stood before the closed door of their minds knowing there is a path but where can it be found. Riches unbound await the searcher who will go to any and all lengths to conquer unbelief freedom his guiding star he walks in great shadows. Mountainous men Jefferson Lincoln his stalwart companions stand with grandest stature takes from the mountain those teachings not found in musty universities. Thoughts born on creations morn formed and laid on this rocky foundation now for centuries they have bore the weight this colossus purified they are words more noble than gold. Share them invest them in the borderless world of human kind that circle the globe. Moses was familiar and consorted with mountains the angel made one his sepulcher. Waste not the golden hours they are the thread that sows life’s most exquisite moments together making a life. Turn aside seek the heights they will give you respect and honor words will flow that are uncommon they will fit any and all circumstances filling the empty void where hearts bleed without ceasing. Your voice will be like the cool mountain breeze soothing filled with substance and comfort
Is it molecular it is and so much more they tell us of the drive by shootings a wonderful place to
Draw this contrast is Los Angeles called the city of angels but the most beautiful is
Its Spanish interoperation Low hovering angels this loses if we say it but let a Mexican say it his
Inflection most perfect if he is saying it from love. Is there a seriousness here our blessing is not be in That crucible even New York is called the big apple but those in the know call it the volcano with all its Eruptions and pressures so does L A fall into this category in fact if you live on Pico Ave it’s a category Five tornado this is one of the most fought out streets in the turf war for space to sell the Bain to all Society drugs see the flame it consumes the guilty and the innocent view this common occurrence way To common how many small neighborhood chapels were filling with caskets instead of wedding Ceremonies look and listen a Mac Ten pistol grease gun thirty round capacity it has just started its Deadly chatter laying down a withering fire this isn’t battle ground conditions this is a neighborhood Strafing a car the widow’s blow out the shooter keeps the fire steady it starts plinking metal as it moves
To the front of the car off the car into a white small picked fence wood matching the spray of bullets as It Flies in all directions Chicago revisited instead of the Tommy gun chopper of probation you got a Crazed dope fiend punk without emotions the sight of fourteen year old Maria standing on the sidewalk Never registered or didn’t matter three red dots appeared on her bright blouse across her back the Center spot stopped her heart forever now these precious Spanish eyes closed never to  see her rightful Future instead of one day walking the Church isle in a wedding gown now she would lie in repose in White with the flowers not in a bouquet but neatly fixed in  her hair So robbed of youth and life her Budding life so filled with promise where angels hover yes this is the blackness the soul knows perpetrated by the evil one but
There exists a counter part to this evil the good gifts divinely wrought the walk by how many
Hearts have fallen to love by just the chance encounter of her loveliness just walking by you the
Hair flowing and glowing the face created in the throes of love and romantic overload
Spellbound was the creator what chance do you have a mere mortal we are not in casual
Observation the soul is processing this at deepest of levels magic is taken from theatrical
Surroundings to the open places of the heart and being of living two other places for instance
The sea shore a new vastness that overwhelms with delightful pleasure and promise

SeaThoughts

Oh stand thy great waters contained in thee is mirth and terror some you have beguiled and then
Have taken them to your depths of destruction but by your benevolence the sea breeze blows
Inland from this moisture rain is called from its dwelling place the earth is refreshed the tides
Have cosmic ties by gravity the lone solitary moon is entreated and responds one speaks if only
There was a love potion that I could give my beloved so she would respond to me favorably it
Can never be created it already exists go out into the mysterious night stand under a great tree its
Dark silhouette will be more bewitching than the days shade speak your heart as you do take her
Hand and stroll out into the moon beams that drew magic from the great waters as it passed over
Does not wonder advance in this light softer exquisite the hardness of life bows and retreats to
Wait the daylight hours where harshness has its intrepid way so it leaves you with the volumes’
Darkness of night every person desires excursions into intrigue shadows will touch your faces
As tender as the willow then the soft glare of the moons love the mind and heart as its signature
Equation that old crazy moon has moves that are centuries old that birth love every time romance
And her broadest throne follow and are attended by moon light to develop a relationship
Correctly don’t go to the artificial neon lights that are futile and tinged with wickedness but
Sea side strolls are the ultimate inducement a pure stimulus that thwarts the too often knotted
World that keeps everyone at odds with one another everyone knows a great deal of love and
Romance when they are younger to revisit those cherished memorable times that started your
Life of promise with your beloved is invaluable mature love needs to feel the saturation of sea
Breezes the moons ghostly sights will fill in deep shadows where hurts have collected they need
To be free so they can go back to the darkness that gave them life your lives shouldn’t be defined
by them But the deep calleth to the deep set sail for Trafalgar not to war with enemy ships but to
sign With tender’s hand a peace accord to stitch the soft fabric of love that life’s mean elements
can rend in this you will find the sea’s glory and the moons positive glow has become a true part
of your life it is time the spring of renewal is in the offing and it sways to love’s song this speaks
Of man and women’s love this speaks of God’s love they saw the works of the LORD, his wonderful deeds in the deep

Where God passes
The edge of forever where raw power is displayed
Walk the seascapes enter the story told in timelessness except for outer space it is the only place where man finds his mind freed so steep is the unending awe that without question he finally is able to present his self as the tiny speck lost is all ego all self importance he is open to the quest for ultimate truth. You perfect you’re thinking at the sea shore it is a storehouse that lends itself to grand thoughts no limitations hamper your endeavors aliveness engulfs you totally. Subdued moods excavate every shallow you start a down ward decent the deep cries out to your soul the part that never can be accessed on shore. The ground a foundation for raising up temporal structures your needs are served in waters that open as a mysterious gate the deeper the fathoms the more understanding is released. To abide in calm surface features of the sea what a waste take off the restraints become a voyager drift with churning twisting pressures they will give great reward for accosting your accustomed staid and uneventful living. Go deeper the mundane the so called important will be forced through your very pores as you continue calling the unknown manifest itself with great scrolls hidden beyond reach to those that plod along the sunny quiet banks. Life test all men you can face them unafraid armed with years not minutes of preparedness found alone in the struggle only found at sea. Pondered Plumbed in inexorable conditions that stretches changes a person’s character his stature tempered fired as steel in the caldron. We need leaders vibrant thinkers people who can and will accost hell in the very near future and come away victorious. They will have found their way through the untold deadly entanglements figuratively and real they’re not accustomed to ease and know perils at close quarters they learned them in great waters not in pools that have not the ability to stir you to your core you’re going to pour out your life in one form or another do it with sand and grit leave a scarred an effectual trail for others to follow not the light untraceable light footsteps of one who has never lived this just barely scratches the surface of the breezeless that tug and press the center and being of us all I wrote this to be another of the blessings that touch your soul

If there are any mistakes I will have to fix them in a bit I can only work at the computer for so long and I want to get this out

i play life hoping to win
could i win
i've never played before
i've never prayed before
i've never payed my dues before
could i win
if i decided to
could i win
if i wanted to
if i tried to
if i had to
could i win
if i stepped outside
said here i am come and get me
i'll take you on
one by two by three
could i fulfill my prophecy
could i check the king
and one day go home
medaled to the teeth
followed by the victory march
marching for the victory
of me

if i could define my success
could i reach it
if i could see
the potential inside of me
could i reach it
could i play life before it plays me
kill the killer
cheat the cheater
meet my maker and make him cry
could i reach the top of the pole
before i die
if i tried my hand at something new
would i know what i was looking for
would i know what i needed
would i know who to call
would i know if i had succeded
would i know anything at all
would i know my limits
would i know where the boundaries end
would i know its highest honor
but if i did
could i reach it
could i touch it
would i be able to see it
with my own two eyes
would i be able to hear it
calling out my name
calling me to rise
could i reach my dreams
if they were impossible
falling apart at the seams
and far too heavy in whim
but someday catch them
and one day win