We were a mirage
of satisfaction
when reality did the deserting
you're now famous for.

But there's no new beginning
for old bones like these
no salvation
left in our flesh.

So seek your reason
somewhere else.
It's not here
in any sense of the word.

Because I'm not your vehicle
or your virtue
and I can't be
the way you run away.

losing yourself
is a bit like drowning

at first,
you attempt to struggle back to the surface;
try to struggle back to the old you

but the water is too strong;
you end up giving in

and as you're pulled down,
deeper and deeper,
you get further away from the surface
and it gets even harder to return back to the old you

before you know it,
a replacement you has taken over,
a 'new you'

and the old you is unconscious on the seabed,
waiting for someone to rescue it,

waiting for someone
to drag it back up
and give it cpr
and tell it that it needs to come back
before it's lost forever

Where are the men
Those that stand up and admit their sin
Unlike Adam
Hiding behind leaves
Where are the men who are faithful those that are not cheaters
The ones that care more about growth in God than sneakers
Where are the men that have not been conditioned
Rape by they kin now they grown and switching
Oh its deep like a giant squid swimming
Where are the men that understand that there wounds need healing
The men that do right dictated by the direction of the Holy Spirit not there feelings
Where are the men that get married and stay
Those that raise there families mightily like Christ rising from the dead
The men that make decisions with their heads
And not the one between their legs
Where are the men who don't need kegs
Trying to balance life with crutches and wooden pegs
Where are the men that know what manhood is
The men that don't have multiple baby mother's and random kids..
Where are the men?
I look in the mirror and see one
The others are my friends
There are other real men that exist
Many grown boys
Like 17 year old that look 25 but are kids
No men

I had a soul, once, like a live animal
full of life and love and excitement.
It is dead now, quiet,
hunted,and gunned down
by enthusiastic hunters and self-infliction and wine that drowned
and bled it to death, skinned and hung,
with bulging eyes glazed like glass,
leaving only sun-bleached bones and foul odor.
I had a soul, once, that flew like a bird,
and spread its wings at your voice
and the call of God, who has grown silent,
whose conversations once held in trust in dark places
are deaf to answers and questions.
It was beautiful, once,
beautiful enough to be part of this beautiful world.
Everything was a succession of fireworks,
Bursting bright with color and light in a loud, dangerous
and glorious display of life and passion, and most of all love.
It has withered, now, like a dead flower or an old man,
back bent, senile, ignorant, and
too broken to be a semblance or remembrance of its once former glory,
dead.

As fast as ocean sweeps the bay
legs of crescent carry away
a sea of wonder won't reject
the sweetest moons you collect
in the palm of your hand soft as peach
slender spine strains to reach
the sun in the sky too far for advice
on speaking to creatures fragile as ice
because the sweetest girl, dear Josephine
shielded by blue instead of green
has a smile painted upon the wall
off the museum fortress she dare not fall
because the places you venture will seem
only to exist before in your dreams
never so lonesome as an unshared bed
cluttered with thoughts of remorse instead
slamming doors in the old broken home
cover the windows high with stones
when travels far and wide resume
remember your home is always the moon.

When I was young and strong
I thought to myself,
That I would live long
But now that I am old and grey
I know that life is never here to stay.

When I was I young and strong
I found the most abused phrase to me
Was the “I love you”s which were said to me
So many said that phrase
But none ever really meant that to be

Now I am grey, old and know
It was just a lubricant in a rat race
Meaningless and self absorbed in its flow
Now I come across quite a few meaningless phrase
Which lips utter without meaning it now

Now I am grey, old and know
That there are many lips that utter
“Praise the lord” and “Thank you God” in a flow
Most People really don't mean it
And mouth it to just their greatness show

These are the most abused phrases these days
Which have no meaning and is just their preening
In spite of better means to address the Lord and his ways
It is their actions which have much more meaning
Than words that just show off how great they are

Now or never
whether we want to or not
they've got us by the balls
and though we built walls
to defend against these invaders of free will
we will need to be stronger
build our walls bigger and better than ever before
and let them kick out the windows and doors
we'll just brick them up and no one gets in
and no one gets out
and no one but no one knows what this is all about.
but the walls stay because they want us to rot
they've got us by the balls and all we can do is build more and more walls
and who wins in the end?
when we're all sent to Coventry with bags of cement so we can lend some authority to the people up there
and they don't give a damn
they jam us into categories with the same krappy old stories
that it's good for our health while they're spending the wealth that they stole from the miners and while they're dining on beef
we're starving
good grief
and they've got us by the balls
in glass coloured test tubes lubricated,dedicated to the rise of the monarchs
and it can't be for real
we'd never allow that
but laying flat on our back and winking eyes at the sun
is where this begun.
In the minds of the merchants and in the pockets of wise men
in the back alleys of bigots and bigshots
and what have we got?
you know it,
A box full of sawdust and a whole heap of shit
so the walls get a little longer
a little stronger
but they'll break us one day
and take us away to a recycle plant
and they'll plant us as seeds to service their needs
and their needs will get greater the later they leave it
there's a whole load of shit
a coming our way.

Disassociating from life
A self-assured little leaf,
Adrift upon the dry winds of doubt
Never to land, or to be landed upon in turn

For what view is old,
May yet be born again
Through experience
Through rationál
Through the ever twisting enigma of lifes currents
For what is the finish, without the journey

For life does not have a meaning
Besides the one we give it