Sometimes I'm the hammer
Sometimes I'm the nail
When sometimes I think
I'm sure to win
I know I'm bound to fail

Sometimes a blackberry
is going to getcha
when pulling weeds out on the trail

Sometimes
It ain't easy being
green, black or blue or pale

Sometimes
Stand still long enough
something is bound to eatcha
Or running ******* the treadmill
getting no where fast

When I'm hungry
I'm going to devour
meat or grain
fruit or flower
Sometimes
starving on a Friday afternoon
no money coming in

Sometimes love
Sometimes desire

Sometimes I'm alive
Sometimes I'm nearly dead

Sometimes I'm riding lightening
Sometimes I'm thunder calling out
for salvation

Sometimes I'm standing knee deep in deafening silence

Sometimes I'm going to see
Sometimes I know I'm blind

Sometime time is going to end,
I know
there won't be
sometimes to do again.

there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard

there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging

somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth

there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach

there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance

there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.

If this tree
should ever come to fall

Let its gnarly limbs
point up to heaven

If its heart
should ever come to a stall

Let it die
with errors pardoned
and sins forgiven

Aged three score and ten

The old man walked

Onwards and upwards

laborious and slow

to the foothills of the Himalayas

Once there seated quiet

Amid the hush

His aging mind wandered

The collective unconscious

Letting go of earthly need

Intuition planted a seed

He prayed for wisdom, love and peace

All the earthbound wars to cease

His spirit soared

With shoals of souls

Awash in roar and flow

Then he saw the passing of time

watched his body age and decline

Learned that though we may come

From a different place

We are all connected through the human race

Then felt his body at one with a tree

As the cherry blossom fell gracefully

I could spend an eternity
alone on this island
with only a string and hook
and still catch feelings
instead of fishes