The war machine
Always fed first
The budget for weapons
Never suffers from thirst
While children lay hungered
And vets become hopeless
These priorities in America
Leave the populous hopeless
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 6:04 PM UTC
Slamming doors and burning bridges
they're pretty much the same
once it's done there's no turning back
life becomes a brand new game
The grass that's seen on the other side
though greener it may seem
still needs the same amount of tending
not like what was in your dream
Yeah the land of milk and honey
sure that's what you thought you saw
all things brand new within your view
through your gaze you're held in awe
Taking the step you claim your land
wait don't burn that bridge you just crossed
you slam that door from where you've been
it's all that could be lost
Things don't always work out the way you plan
sometimes you've just gotta retreat
and if you destroy your only pathway back
it's your demise that you could meet
So leave that doorway open
and keep that bridge intact
they could be quite useful in your future
and save you from being trapped
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 8:15 AM UTC
Long has he lived
Finding fault as his aim
You see he was quite lonely
At the start just a game
A new target he'd choose
For every new session
But as his game progressed
It became his obsession
Well now he can't stop
He's grown a negative mind
And everywhere that he looks
The more mistakes does he find
There's become nothing of beauty
In his life there's no joy
Now he wishes he'd never
Begun this game as a boy
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 10:21 AM UTC
It is not your glow dear lamp of the night,
but your tidal draw upon my mind that keeps me from my rest.
You have made of me a lunatic.
Driven me into the night to howl with the dogs.
The hair upon my neck bristles, sweat drips from my brow.
My breath quickens along with the beat of my heart.
How can you in such beauty deliver so much trouble?
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
The dense smoke hides the sun.
Now enveloped in this darkness
I am alone, yet
there is no peace.
Wars ravish the lands,
innocents continue to die.
Is the flexing of muscle
and the want for riches
really worth the lives of children?
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 6:56 AM UTC
I stepped from the pumpkin,
found the sky to be littered.
There were bright shiny stars,
they surrounded the sun.
It was a moon shadow following me
as I walked above the clouds.
I watched the airplanes,
funny how they flew backwards.
I wondered which way the people were seated.
Do they realize that they are going
where they came from.
To ask would be so impolite
and an admission
of my weak understanding
of this new day.
Life is play!
Then I thought of
Little Big Man.
Oh how he could ride.
The people in the plane
smiled at me,
all at once.
It was as if on cue.
I checked my fly.
Wanting to return inside the pumpkin
I made an about face
and in its place
I saw a whale leap down
from the surface of the sea above me.
He beckoned for me to enter
and then promised,
I would find what I was searching for within.
There was a tree
with a small stream running beside it.
I sat with my back against it,
fell asleep
and dreamed of a world at peace.
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
His mind was closed,
he would not see.
The hours we spent arguing.
they never made a difference.
Finally I walked away.
I went to have a heart to heart with myself.
It was then that I found
that I was he
and he was me.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 6:51 AM UTC
This armed America
the one they told us
would be a polite society
when all carry weapons
our cities
they've become killing fields
we as a people
have become the worst of all animals
officers taking lives
claiming they fear for their own
snipers now returning the favor
as they fear the police
it seems as the road towards that polite society
has become paved with the dead
merely bricks mortered in place
with their blood
will we see be fewer combatants
as the body count rises
or are the re-enforcements
on their way
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 8:10 AM UTC
The door was opened.
Yesterday stood before me,
baggage in hand.
Visions of my past came in droves
ripping away my peace .
Leaving me with new turmoil.
Difficult lessons of my life,
I'd learned from them.
Became a better man for them.
Now hounding me.
Why must I relive these moments?
They only weaken my spirit
and chase me back into a depressed state.
One that I had thought I had long gotten over.
They bring nothing but pain.
Yesterday shall not be allowed to move in.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:41 PM UTC
The eyes hurt.
I so want to close them.
Yet I will suffer the pain
rather than miss the beauty before me.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 3:32 PM UTC