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fifty years have come and gone
since that fateful November day
when men of greed and fear of peace
took the chance away

removed all hope of paradise
a world serene and free of hate
divided not by war, but sea
where love directs our fate

we run and hide from truth we fear
denial is the easier pill
we laugh at those who held the truth
whose innocent blood did spill

should the Sun soon set
on our Camelot lost
when evil conquers good
they will find no mention in our history books
of the ****** in the wood
oldie
who talks to me while I sleep
in whispers and sighs that only a lover knows
warmth of touch I cannot move
floating in colors of lucid dream
I awaken to hear the words and feel the warmth
fade into the wooden floors

my conscious soul abducted
I live another life in fleeting years
the line becomes closer
my thoughts remain clear
what is dream
and what is not
where does time not exist
oldie - revised
the waves brush steadily along the beach
while gulls glide just inches above
the Sun still hot this September morning
but I have departed and can only feel the warmth of these seven days behind me
the imprints where I walked now windswept and smooth
the road becomes shorter to home
more distant from this place I so dearly love
a piece of me stays each time I leave
these beautiful shores
these quiet days
these Outer Banks
oldie - I feel a connection like no other with these shores. not sure why...but I feel I've been coming here for centuries
I watch you
as you lick your fingers
and laugh at the funny man on your cellphone
while the clouds above your head
outside the taco bell are not real
while you breathe in the poisons you can't see

I watch you
as you dance in the fairytale of non disclosure
that the box displays
that the news portrays
the fictional truth
the yodeling boy in Walmart
captivates
while pleas from those who see the truth
fade like the voices of trees and bees
and empty seas

I watch you
as you shed tears for a dying love
but close your heart to a dying planet
the clock ticking
the hours wane

I watch you
picking out the last car you will own
working so hard to get that promotion
and you know you're so much better
as you ponder sugar substitues

through red and tired eyes
tears loaded with nano particles and other poisons
I watch you drown in your blindness
your sad brainwashed life
your own slow suicide

tonight, before you begin your final sleep
open your eyes just wide enough to see
you could have stopped this
feeling particularly dark today - I guess I'm just getting tired of internalizing
In the silent cold of the desert night
cacti share a lonely trance
they stretch their stubby, prickly arms
the glow incites this awkward dance

they rest their ship on a vacant dune
shield their eyes from brilliant glare
the light that burns from distant moon
is more than they can bear

they have come to plant their rabid seed
that will race across the desert plane
to hunt the sleepers on which they feed
the seed now sewn, they await the rain
oldie
can i write when i'm not urged
by sentiment or pain
immersed in joy or drunk with grief
there's no relief to gain

can i sing when i'm not passioned
when words seem all the same
no crying fans to motivate me
no burning love, no flame

can i hope if there's no dream
no field of gold with neon rain
where children smile
where lassies cry
from sentiment or pain
oldie
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