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3.3k · Sep 2013
Reafi (Sept. 15th, 2013)
Daniel Regan Sep 2013
I fear the light with the sun and the dew. I fear my echoes that they might wake you.

I fear last night and I fear today. I fear the word that my motivations make us say.

I fear my regrets and I fear their truth. I fear that your maturity overpowers my youth.

I fear your thoughts and I fear your mind. I fear my willingness to be unapologetically kind.

I fear the silence that always rings through. I fear the awkward smiles they force out of you.

I fear my affections and how I react. I fear that my actions wont leave me intact.

I fear the road and I fear its end. I fear the message my silence will send.

I fear your love and I fear my pain. I fear the stillness that comes with the rain.

I fear my inaction and I fear my lingering hand. I fear where my emotions force me to stand.

I fear your smile and I fear his too. I fear the backstabbing that I just went through.

I fear my relations and their impact on me. I fear their power to bring me to my knee.

I fear the future and I fear my heart. I fear not returning from what was my start.

I fear my life and the time on my clock. I fear there is no one who can listen to me talk.

I fear my words and I fear yours too. I fear I have lost all trust in me and you.
Daniel Regan Apr 2013
Oh, I got that feeling again. I’ve been staring at the ceiling again. Letting my heart take flight, as the music reaches its height, taking my thoughts out of minds’ sight. But this feeling I now fight, cannot be controlled. Cannot be moved, overcome, or even forced to fold. Gripping my ever-changing soul and forcing my hands. As my breath leaves my body and my feet forget to stand. Hands pushed to speak through the letters they find. Putting feelings to words that cant seem to speak my mind. Frustrated by my inaction, that passively takes form. In the words I now force to unwilling conform. To these one-inch margins that box in my thoughts, constricting my deepest feelings and simplify life’s plot. All perpetuated by the rhythm, of the ever-spinning fan. Mounted just above my bed, that seems to hypnotize what’s in my head. Threading image to feeling, and my feelings to my words. As the tapestry of us, now resembles fleeing birds. Each winged reminisce that has forever taken flight, a moment in time that will always hold spite. Towards cliffs edge that stands between what the heart seeks. And a mans inability to step beyond its daunting peak. So with time ticking down and our future running by, I stand at a distance and continue our little lie. One living in the shadows of nights eternally pasted on, when passions ignited without though of our coming dawn. Only of the connection made with courage in hand, liquefied to motivate beyond what history had banned. What allies once forbid and witnesses cheered on, inhibition finding wind and politics forgone. Now forced to be nothing more then memories in the sand, as our hourglass approaches empty and my thoughts continue to be fanned. Continue to find rhythm as the blades spin madly by, ticking down to a day when I cannot take the lie. Cannot take this falsehood that pushes me from behind, as I approach that daunting edge of my own terrified mind. So with time in short supply along with my pride, I put black to white and our segregation aside. In the hopes that time stands still for just a moment more, to help you understand that it is you I adore.
Daniel Regan Jan 2013
Tattoos covering a man that speaks of his soul
A dog with a playful heart and loving tongue
Miles of dandelion covered fields and poison ivy infested forest
Mud covered boots and worn out running shoes
Smoke rising from a chimney and an open door lifestyle
Swings swaying in the wind connected to a cat-**** infested sandbox
A pond with fishing poles in the dirt and a splintery dock
Paint stripped basketball hoop without its net ripped and torn
Rocks and logs surrounding an overused fire pit
A lush garden with every kind of bug and animal
Another dog with his wise years found spotted on his nose
An old, leathery glove with its seams falling out
Scratched and scorned arms from 4th of July bottle rockets
Mom and dad a quick walk just a mile down the road
A 1962 Corvette Stingray parked next to the dusty van
Two cats sleeping the day away on the porch
A trampoline with rusted springs and a sprinkler underneath
The grill cooling from an afternoon of burgers and hotdogs
The brother flying in from Colorado after a week on the slopes
Rock and roll blasting from the house that can be heard for miles
All the windows open to take in the summer air
Every pillow and blanket carefully positioned to make an epic fort
Bikes hanging in the garage next to the bin with every ball you can think of
An over used washer and dryer next to the hallway with endless pictures
Half finished schoolwork on the table surrounded by the crust of a PB&Js;
Rooms with unmade beds and works of art mixed in with stuffed animals
A sister biking in from the town just beyond the nature reserve
Wrinkled hands and dirt filled nails contrasted by a gold ring
Nerf bullets covering the floor, windows, and fridge in the kitchen
Chalk covered black top from the garage to the street
Lego towns and spaceships covering the coffee table
A whiteboard with math equations and tic-tac-toe fighting for whitespace
A wall full of board games missing a die here or a figuring there
Newspaper clippings, pictures of nephews and nieces, and report cards on the fridge
Coffee *** half gone, cereal bowls in the sink, and the oven on for some reason
Bike ramps with caution tape and under construction signs scattered in the garage
Firefly nights that have to compete with the millions of the stars in the sky
Flashlight filled ghost stories in the family tent with mallows and chocolate bars
Lazy afternoons with a good book ending with an even better nap
And a mailbox, surrounded by tulips, on my little patch of heaven.
2.1k · Feb 2012
Call me an Ass (03/31/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
If nice guys finish last, then call me an *******. Im done being the nice guy, im done playing that role. Because society doesnt care if you can save the human race. All they seem to care about is stuffing their own face. With fast food, and expensive gifts, with cool gadgets and lavish trips. This world is selfish and does not care for you, so you might as well loose the nice guy attitude. Your friends may say they like your nice guy ways. But lets be honest, love and affection cant get you recognition and fame. Life is cold, life is bleak. Like having no paddles going up a muddy creak. Love is blind, so you will never find, that special someone, that someone to call mine. So why be nice, when no one cares. Why be nice, when life isnt fair. Why be nice, when no one sees you. Why be nice, when no one cares what you do. So call me and *******, call me a ****, call me a huge, monsterous *****. But dont call me the nice guy, you'll only make me sick. So here's some advice, if you want to get ahead in life. Forget about fairytale endings, forget about the lavish white weddings, forget about being nice and allways doing right. Cuz life ***** and blows, like a five dollar *****. So get use to those sores, cuz thats what lifes for. ******* you from behind, when you've been nothing but kind. Giving someone your heart, and getting nothing from start. Working your *** off for that spot, only to loose what you got. So **** it all, and **** my life. Get use to these phrases and get use your strifes. And get use to never being right. Cuz when life kicks in, you've already lost the fight!
1.9k · Feb 2012
958 Atkin (05/10/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And though our lives move on and our days continue to be filled with the life we had all once left behind, we still remember. And though we wake up each morning with a new crowed of people to share our breakfast with, we still remember. Etched into our minds like those three numbers we held so dear as a symbol of our freedom and identity. Those three numbers that separated you enough to show ones independence, but connected you with a community of people who forever would fill every waking (and sometimes sleeping) moments of your life. These three numbers, coupled with a key, representing a time of transition from parental curfews, sober nights, and childish antics to a life of frivolous and naked moments. Passing into a time where the only sober though one had was that approaching deadline and getting everyone home safe. A time where basketball games, endless games of cards, crazy dance parties, shower time, movie nights, redbird pizza runs, *** talks, burning frat houses, fights with floor 8, board games, and multiple YOUTUBE sensations took precedence over whatever was due the next day. And though our nights sometime met the light of day; we continued in our ways knowing each morning when we awoke the day was ours and would be filled with people who would make every moment spectacular. So with our new found life consuming us we ignored the grains as they fell towards a time when the life we had come to know and love would be thrown into a whirlwind of tears, hugs and goodbyes. But that day has come and gone; and though promises were made and dates set, we still can’t help to remember those three numbers and those people who made them more then just a room number. And though those days are gone and we consider our selves grown, we can’t help but cling to childish moments where friendships were forged and long lasting bonds made by a simple acceptance button found on our social portals. A bond that we now hold to for dear life as a means to keep one another connected. Connected to those people who became our life line in times of good and bad; those same people who we shared the good and bad moments with and knew we could turn to no matter what. Those same people whose lives we would put in front of ours and bend over backwards for no matter the cost or how empty our wallets may seem. And even when we found our selves counting quarters and estimating how many loads we could run, we always knew we could count on the person across the hall or right next door to fill that half hour until our whites were done. We laughed, and we cried, we made nick names for each other and threw up in each others arms. We watch each other run around naked, made never ending “that’s what she said jokes,” and maybe kissed a few people we never thought we could. And though nights got out of hand and feels hurt here or there, regret is something none of us feel. For regret is an emotion that holds no place between people whose moments with one another were made priceless because of how embarrassing or stupid we acted. Stupid, embarrassing moments that we have come to cherish and hold close to our hearts in the hopes to keep those people we refer to as our kin with us when distance challenges our very bonds. Moments that cannot be duplicated, remade, imitated, or passed off as a normal Saturday afternoon; but rather remembered and someday share with our kids and grandkids as they move in for their first year of college. And when our kids and grandkids are overcome with emotion and come to us for advice about conquering the college scene, we can say from the depths of our hearts that the people they meet in college will forever change their life and make them a better person. Those same people whom I could never replace, and can’t wait to embrace as brother and sister when the next semester of ISU rolls around. :)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Old memories preserved in black and white.
Reminisce of a time less contrite.
Seen through the lens of those without strife.
Young and free with a passion for life.
Replaced by wisdom, fear and guilt.
For the life one has methodically built.
With walls and doors, and windows to see.
As the world passes by this absentee.
Surrounded by frames of the finest wood.
Of snapshots of the potential that someday could.
Climb the mountains unreached by the hands of our time.
Instead stuck walking for fear of the climb.
For fear of the fall and all it might bring.
Fear of the inability to rebuild his wings.
Compliant with gravity, compliant with normality.
Unfamiliar with the rebellion that once filled his soul.
Defining his life where their now is a hole.
Replaced by a scar and filled with his tears.
As the joys of his childhood continue to disappear.
Chased away by the light of reality.
Youthful dreams replaced in actuality.
Ambitions refocused towards sensuality.
Mind made up of generalities.
Soul defined in spirituality.
As his life moves slowly into irrationality.
And though the colors here are always bright.
They are most vulnerable in the absent of light.
Replaced by the darkness and a mind numbing truth.
One we all have forgotten from our youth.
That the potential of life knows no bounds.
And that which we can create will always astound.
Those who come after us and those who continue to follow.
Will continue to fill our world as if it was hollow.
In need of filling with that which they create.
Building from our ashes on a brand new slate.
Their artistry challenged only by those.
Who have left footprints in the sand with their bare toes.
So which life do you wish to live.
One of solitude or one where you continue to give.
Give your time, give your energy, give your heart and your soul.
To the child in you whom you continue to out grow.
Continue to neglect who’s dreams have yet to be filled.
By the world you once dreamed of with those Legos you use to build.
Dreams filled with sky scrapers all in black and white.
Only to be interrupted by mornings first light.
Life’s colors seeping in as they begin to fill your days.
Your youthful ambitions still here in many ways.
Still clinging to you through those memories of yesteryear.
Captured in your childish smile radiating so clear.
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Remember, remember the 11th of September
Terrorism, mayhem and plot.
I see no reason why terror like this
Should ever be forgot.

Bin Laeden, Bin Laeden, 'twas his intent
To ******* America with an explosive event
Four fueled airplanes, oh how they soar
Poor old America dragged into war
By Marines providence justice was found
With women in hand dutifully bound
Silence my brothers, silence my sisters
God save them all!
In their memory we pray!
In rememebrance on this sad day!

A penny for your thoughts ol' America
on a day that chokes us all
nothing to rinse away the pain
on a day that scorched us all
forever burning is this day
Burning in our hearts always
Burning for those who have bled
and burning for those who are dead.
Silence on this tragic day!
Silence in their names we pray!
Daniel Regan Jan 2013
Can I borrow your voice, because I’ve seem to have lost mine. In search of a purpose, that I’ve found in a line. About love that’s been found in a place without hope, that oppresses its people without shackles or ropes. In a place with a light that shines in the dark, that echoes of praise, music and baby shark. Where the youth of tomorrow step for what’s right, in the name of equality and justice with unwavering might. A place where we have all given so much, and received even more from the people we’ve touched. But our yesterdays have passed and out tomorrow is today, and I struggle for happiness as Selma drivers away. So I stare out the window with my mind in a daze, as this once alien scenery catches my gaze. And the trees pass in rhythm as I fall victim to sleep, with only one thought on my mind…the company I keep. For I have been blessed by the company I hold, the experiences we’ve had and the stories we’ve told. By the games we’ve played and the relationships we’ve formed, by the tears we have shed for weathering the racial storm. And as I stir from my sleep I wake without fear, because the people I’d bleed for are sitting so near. So with my voice fading fast I say to you all, if the road gets too hard, don’t be afraid to call. For your callous hands look exactly like mine, from the work that we’ve done to make Teppers shine. And if you need a wise word or a shoulder to cry, I can be there for your lows and even your highs.  This trip has meant more to me then words can express, and its you with my heart that I choose to invest. So with these last and final words, I compassionately say to you. Keep you minds always open and your heart will stay true. Because our world is always changing no matter what we do, and it is you whom I love that will bridge the old and the new.
1.3k · Feb 2012
Need Sleep (04/04/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Cant seem to close my eyes with the world on the other side. Banging on my eyelids like when hammer and nail collide. Keeping reality ever present in my marathon of a mind. Even when im dreaming i cant seem to press unwind. So i press another button, as my life continues to play. Wishing that the days i wasted could simply be replayed. Running while my life is in a state of full unrest, body condeming me to sleep under house arrest. Sleep finding adversity in the priorities i have set. Making deals with the sandman to pay off my sleeping debt. But every debt made with him is one i cant seem to pay. So ill break even with the reaper on my dying day. And ill push away the sleep, and ill push away the night. Tricking myself with coffee and work; my sleeping schedule ill rewrite. Ill catch those Z's again, by the comming of first light. When priority  meets procrastination, and sleeping becomes a right. So necessary to life as to every breath we take, keeping the sandman at bay for momentary sake. But sleep becomes anxiety as hour by hour they pass. Woken up abruptly by the sound of the next class. So you shuffle along your path, with one goal in sight. Keeping up your strength so you can stay in the fight. One where the rounds dont expire, and the bell never sounds. Only thing keeping you up, is that which knocks you to the ground. So you admit defeat for now and you suffer all the blows. Patching up all your wounds and reaping what you sew. Hoping that tomorrow you can finally take a rest. And find some sleep and peace of mind in your life of pure unrest. So finish up your work and try to close your eyes. Because in those few moments of silence, you can kiss your worries goobye.
1.3k · Feb 2012
Melody (08/22/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I have this melody in mind that has played since my youngest days. Filling my heart and soul continuously, getting louder as it plays. Taking over my every dream and rocking me to sleep, unable to scream out in the night or even begin to weep. Waking to a new day with the same hope in mind, that my lifes strung out melody will somehow come unwind. And untill that sobering day comes ill playfully sing a different tune. Playing my melody with the worlds expectations untill they both become attune. Never humming my lifes true melody so as not to attract my muffled past. And hoping to god that this lifestye is one i will outlast. Or outlive, or out-will, or possible out-muster. For my struggling sanities sake, and before life loses all its luster. Becasue as my melody continues to play, everything becomes drowned out. Leaving behind a deaf man whos life was filled with hopeless regret and unwiltering doubt. But carry on i must do, for life demands nothing less. Regardless if your staggering smile continues to digress. Back to your haunting melody, and leaving you at second best. To the person you strived to be, who has now become an absolute mess. Holding back their emotion, from the world and those he loves. Seaching for the answers in the stars and endless skys above. Becasue the answers he seeks cant be found while walking on this earth. Buth rather in that unattainable heaven that has given his life worth. So play on my meldoy and sing me to sleep. I look forward to the silence as darkness plummets me ever so deep.
1.3k · Feb 2012
How Dare You (09/21/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
How dare you! Call me 'friend' with no intent of a relation.
How dare you! Ask for generosity without any hesitation.
How dare you! Ask more of a me then ive asked of you.
How dare you! Think of me as part of your 'old crew.'
How dare you! Come to me, as if there is nothing to forgive.
How dare you! Pretend there is nothing I havent relived.
How dare you! Shut out the world, and those who really care.
How dare you! Only show your face for those in despair.
How dare you! Talk to me without a passing glance.
How dare you! Then go back to your 'avoid me dance.'
How dare you! Not speak a word to me, and hide behind your wall.
How dare you! Even ask me at all.....
HOW DARE YOU
1.1k · Feb 2012
Walk with Me (03/31/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Walk beside me and lets take a stroll. Lets talk about you, me, and life as a whole. Lets talk about logic, emotions, and fears. Lets talk about movies, food, and those things that bring you to tears. Lets walk for hours, so the sun can take a rest; circling this world from east to west. And lets only rest when our legs grow old and week, and when lifes path has no more steps for us to seek. Lets skip for a while and act like kids again, remembering those carefree times way back when. A time of peace, with not a care in the world. A time when lifes path seemed to come unfurled. Right before our eyes, with no struggle at all. No where to trip, stumble, or even take a bad fall. No ledges to climb and no rivers to swim, no valleys or mountains that look too grim. So lets walk through those flowery fields of sunshine. Laughing and singing with our hands intertwine. But our lovable time is met with ice breath, as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The strains of life to real for us to miss, forgetting the time of our childish bliss. Stuggling with life and even one another, wondering if this road will continue for much farther. Holding each other with full apprehension, afraid this embrace will end from the sheer tension. Brought on to challenge everything held so true, found in moments of passion had between me and you. Holding on for dear life, with everything at stake. Holding you so tight as to feel your soul shake. And as we weather the storm and walk through the haze. We praising ourselves for getting through that pahse. In this journey of two paths that have seemed to collide; destiny putting two souls in perfect stride. Walking with hands and souls intertwined, agian like before life became unkind. This new path stretching with so much potential, a new piece in my life that has become so essential. To my very survival and way of life; without it my life defined by pure strife. And we walk on our beaten path with no moon in sight, the sun still at rest from its never ending flight. From east to west and west to east; time and direction not important in the least. For as long as im with you my love will be timeless, even when our lives our put in distress. I promise you this untill the day i die. When i must leave this world to meet my maker in the sky. And when ours souls are together and reunited once again, i will remind you of our path where love had once began.
1.0k · Feb 2012
Press Play (02/25/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Play me an emotion from your playlist of songs. Pull out your head phones like nothing could be wrong. Tune out the world, and listen up close. Put on your blinders so that no body knows. The pain that you feel as the base blares and rhythm goes, the melody kicks in and you try not to show. The emotion brought on by this song deep inside, being brought to life by this musical rollercoaster ride. The words hit your soul and emotions play along, with every note hit by this instrumental song. And the tempo picks up and you start breathing fast, not noticing the stares of people as they passed. As the song begins to ****** and your heart starts to race, you feel as if the song is playing on your face. Running through your veins from your hands to your feet, without your head phones your soul would feel incomplete. Then the music begins to die and you come down from your high. You pull out the needle filled with your music’s emotional supply. Press pause on your life and return to reality; loose yourself as you pull away from your sanity. Truth found in the music that plays on your pod, songs that could challenge the existence of god. Emotions brought forth by lyrical poetry and song, feelings of pain that are forever prolonged. By the world around you not playing to your beat. Drumming a song that keeps your feet out of sync. So you harmonize your life with the song of those around, staying in tune as the choir sings a round. Of the struggles of life, of the pains and its sorrows. More focused on the negatives then the prospect of tomorrow. But you return to your music as the day goes on, a little more comfortable and less withdrawn. You put on your headphones and dive back in. Filling up your syringe with your musical heroine. As you turn up the volume you feel every line. Your blood pumps harder with every rhyme. You intensify your high as your emotions run wild. Everything else seems nothing more then mild. More focused on the music as the world spins madly round, caught up in your reality of musical sound. And the lights shine brighter and everyone has a smile. As the feel of your music has changed with its style. And suddenly your soul has found rhythm once again. Life’s beautiful melody sounding better then it’s ever been. So you harmonize your feet with the beat of your heart; fueled by the song as it plays from the start. Finding yourself in a musical state of bliss, forgetful that your soul was in a painful abyss. But that doesn’t matter; you’ve replaced the bad with the good. With the touch of a button, everything is how it should. So you keep your emotions locked away from reality. The world couldn’t handle them in all actuality. In a little black box that has no key, but with the press of a button can set your emotions free. Can set your soul free and set it to flight, and make the wrongs in your world surprisingly right.
1.0k · Feb 2013
Shot in the Dark (Feb. 7th)
Daniel Regan Feb 2013
Silence between my ears, it’s this pause that I fear. Rubbing my eyes in disbelief, hands shaking with no relief. Heart pounds with no end, racing thoughts I try to fend. Patience seems to hold no grip, pain coursing through my bottom lip. Words becoming hard to write, anxiety filled as I try to fight. Apprehension is keeps me on a high, feelings of sanity passing me by. Silence broken by sudden shock, body begins to come unlocked. Senses heightened to every sound, words being to bring me down. Expectations start to crack, feelings of insecurity I do not lack. True emotion comes over me, afraid of what the world might see. Back behind my guise I go, true passion I will not show. Afraid of what just happened now, no emotion seen upon my brow. Hidden behind my darkened hood, strength gone from where I stood. Hope for another possible try, may come again under a different sky.
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And as friends they stay and as friends they go. One step at a time as they mature and grow. Before your very eyes and behind closed doors, through the good and the bad no matter the score. You hold them when they cannot stand and you do the best you can, to comfort them in times of need and when life doesn’t go according to plan. Selflessness knows no bound and humility follows in suit, as you expect nothing in return no matter how terrible a dispute. You control what you can and leave the rest to fate, and hope faith is enough to keep a friendship before its too late. Before time takes its toll and brings to an end, a bond of understanding between an individual and a friend. To put the good of another before their very own, and wave goodbye to the wonderful friendship time has magically sewn. For this agreement they made in silent understanding, takes presidency over the different road each one will be traveling. And as their footprints begin to vanish in different cardinal directions, a simple reminder remains of that special connection. A joke or a poem, a memory or a song, one that remains in secrecy forever lifelong.  And as the end creeps near and regret sinks in, there is one person in life they could count on through thick and thin. And with a loving smile and one final breath, you remember their loving face in that instant before death. Peace settles in and a tear falls from your eye, death is not what you fear and not why you cry. You cry for life’s greatest pain of compassion and love, which will never be felt as you enter the world above. You cry because you are human and this is all that you know, to feel and give back that which you are afraid to show. And as your spirit ascends to a loving god above, you think of the person you were once made of. By those who walked into your life, and made you through companionship so rife. Only to walk out with their heads held confidently high, for the person you were helped them to fly.
967 · Feb 2012
For the Horn Dog (06/15/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
May the road rise to meet you, wherever you may go. As a new life begins to unfold, down a path you may not know. Carry with you your loving memories, of childhood ambitions. And never forget those joys you felt as you begin a new transition. Into a world of uncertain freedoms; filled with laughter, anger and tears. The same world of unbridled laughter, that may bring out your darkest fears. But worry not of the bad things, for the good will overcome. In this new life you’ll make for yourself, one very far from hum-drum. A life filled with new people, filled with new memories and new friends. Those you will love forever, and hold onto till bitter end. But forget not those whom you left behind, in the dust of new beginnings. For a life of higher education, and some more competitive swimming. For these people you leave momentarily, are more then just your kin. They are your backbone when times are hard, and your cheering squad for when you win. They are your break from all the studying when finals have you down. They are your source of inspiration, when life’s bright colors have turned to brown. You will have your good days, and you will have your bad. You will be happy one minute, and the next you’re sad. You will have your days alone, and your days you wish you were. You’ll have your sober nights, and those of too much liquor. And the next day, when your head’s about to explode. You will have learned a valuable lesson, and continue down life’s winding road. A road with mountainous hills and twisting turns. You may fall down a bit, but that’s no call for concern. Because you’re the type of person who will never say ‘when’. You’ll get up time after time, again and again. With your determination setting you apart, only to bring others together with your companionate heart. The world is your ouster, as cliché as it sounds. You could even leap tall buildings in a single bound. With the talents you have, and your loving heart. The possibilities are endless, I wouldn’t know where to start. So I wish you good luck, in all your endeavors. And hope you find love, whenever and wherever. But remember just this as you walk through the halls, of Illinois State University this coming fall. Life is a challenge, but can be fun too. Remember your friends and family; and there’s nothing you can’t do.
934 · Aug 2013
Till then (Aug. 18th, 2013)
Daniel Regan Aug 2013
My expectations take flight as we wonder through this once youthful and promising night. The only hope for a tomorrow comes with forbidden touch and a forbidden, connected sight. Longing for a quiet moment alone as your eyes slowly shift to meet mine. Connected hands pulling from considerable constrains as the clock gradually strikes nine. The world begins to slow as if to say there may not be another.  Or rather there may not be another one worth your passion now uncovered. Resurrected from our past as our softened minds are kept in a hazy check. By wondering eyes, unreciprocated passions, and friendly arm around our neck. And though instants stole in the shadow of the masses bring forbidden thoughts to light. Kinship to another uncovers doubt with a strong, unrelenting might. Unremitting hesitation as we’re forced to balance our duty and what we know as true. To those we brought to conquer the night and to our passions we wish to pursue. And as our night moves towards dawn we watch the other move along, towards a night of least resistance. With once promising passion now unwillingly forgone, and the other lost to the distance. Slowly awakening to our regret as the other does the same. Wondering if the night was different could our lust have been ours to claim. Would our desire to move beyond our duties have been made with worth and good intent. With others consent and no argument for the decisions we now circumvent. So with our train of thought chasing an end to our sorrow filled silence we search for just one more glance. Only to find remorse and a white flag waving reluctantly at our lost chance. And as the metal doors close on our promising night we wonder could this have been real. As I steal one more glance with the turning of the wheels putting miles towards our past so surreal. Hoping only for fate to smile again and give our passions a chance once more. Of a night filled with desire, lust, and affection that our destiny wishes to restore.
912 · Feb 2012
I Want to Scream (10/17/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Do not stifle my passion,
Found through the creation of my own destiny,
Branded with my emotions,
And forever fueling my intensity,
Flowing through me,
Pulsating in me,
Screaming from me,
Emitting words forever loaded,
With the intent to inspire,
Tattooed on my soul,
Eternally sewed internally,
Separated by those blinded by light,
Forgetting the dark,
Not for lack of fear,
But lack of recognition of its opposite force,
Forget not the passion,
Found in every stitch of life,
Continually becoming unraveled by simplicity,
By those who separate life,
Rather than recognize its union,
Siblings through geographical blood,
Not that of neighbors,
But by that of earth itself,
I WILL DO GOOD BY YOU BROTHER,
And you will see my greatness,
I will forever show my love not through others,
But through my own actions for you,
Keep me in mind when you forget your strength,
And I will remind you of love,
I will be you shadow of compassion,
With the intent to create happiness,
Striving for perfection,
Forever
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
We as humans define our fears by that which we can’t control. Those things that stand just outside our physical grip but lay within the range of our persuasive comprehension. For control translates to security in whatever realm of life we seek, and many hold to that security as a lifeline for social and personal survival. The same survival techniques that have dictated our every move since the dawning of our time, but now finds reformed salvation in the egocentric world that we humans have so maliciously conquered. And though the means by which control is obtained changes from era to era, the quest for it still holds the same aggression and ferocity by which we have pursue it since before mans evolution. Holding complete disregard to everything in our path if only for the pursuit of this so called happiness. Perpetuated happiness that has been malevolently twisted and manufactured to fit the fantasies of those who deem it worthy. Regardless of the overt subconscious damage being done to those who adopt these practices. Regardless of our fellow man who gets forgotten and dismembered in the dust. Regardless of the destruction that is then committed upon the earth itself. All in the name of perceived happiness and an unwillingness to accept change into our lives. And though this phobia of what we cant control dictates the steps we take and mistakes we make, there is still hope. Hope for free thought and disconnect from the need of control. An acceptance of a blind destiny. Not a destiny for those unwilling to take the reins of life and influence it as they see fit, but rather one who understands that the reins are not theirs to control. And though control might be had from time to time, there is the awareness that it is fleeting. That it is always in flux and though the heavens might smile in your favor today, tomorrow they might turn their back to you all together. So rather then embracing that which we can control and discarding that which we cant, shouldn’t we be accepting that by which we cant control and forgiving ourselves for clinging onto the momentary continuity within our lives that is control? Or are we doomed to always put out mental, physical, and spiritual wellbeing on the line in order to obtain that transitory sedative that quells our animalistic needs?
Daniel Regan Sep 2014
It’s that rough patch, not to be confused with that soft grass. Where its greener on the other side they say. So I put that clichéd line on replay, as my mind wonders away from its looped track and I find my soul drawn to this one rough patch. The one where the rain forgot to fall, though my depression looms like clouds ready to burst at its red taped seems. Ready to break free and quench the forsaken dreams, of those entangled in its constricting theme and the lack of what should motivate them to break free from this quilted piece of the so called American Dream. But this feathered ideology has just as much rooted truth as the forsaken grass. Ripped from the ground and held up by the masses, YOU think this drought will force the skies to fall to its knees and weep? You think my rain dance of soft spoken discipline and firm handed compassion is enough for Noah to build the ark? Send them in two by two with their quilted grass and torn seams. Bound in red tape, tax payer hate, and a world on their shoulders that’s now forced to their plates. Where chipped out bricks and clothes with rips meet the checkered grasses and one way trips down potholed streets. Where ‘broke’ is the culture, ‘cracked’ is the future, and ‘shattered’ is a person’s understanding of their purpose. Built on burnt out grass, rusted out fences, and busted out dreams. Of NBA stardom and NFL leagues. Only to be replaced with NBA sneakers and NFL ****. But that grass is green, don’t get me wrong. There’s that other side that we all try to focus on. Where positivity pushes mowers and helps plant seed, were people are built up like stalks using Jacks magic beans. Only to face the giants of our new reality, as these 12 year old doors close with a bells final ring. Forced in the world full of giant inequity, but that nice summer breeze always put me at easy. As I tie up the silver lining of my last pair of torn up jeans. Squinting from the light reflecting off these sky scrapping beams, of that ‘pulled up by my own boot straps’ ideology. That keeps on ripping up grass in the place of their concreted schemes. A foundation built on an inherited legacy of rolled up cotton sleeves. Only to be replaces with shiny new cuffs, Italian fitted fiends, and a lack a communal understanding. For those without an equitable ground to plant their dirt stained feet. Whose souls lack the foundation of an inherited concrete. Whose footsteps find only patches with the occasional green grass, stemming from the rain’s 7-3 schedule that never seems to last. Void of enough time for their neglected patches to be sown, for their budding grasses to be grown, and misguided shoes to be souled. But the inherited rain continues to fall and some grasses remain green, enough to keep the majority screened to this water tower of inequality. Or at least content as their grasses get wet, cultivated by willful ignorance and an acquired colorblind sense. A sense of understanding as we judge our lawns the same. Remembering our own discoloration as our colorblind eyes takes aim. To pelt our vibrant lawn with the care it so desperately needs, making sure to fill in the spots where our grasses meet our weeds. Forgetting that our feet once stood in a plot of browned out patches, as we stand within the greener side not to be confused with the softer grasses.
Daniel Regan Mar 2013
I have read my last cliché line, and spoke my last ambiguous truth.  I’ve found the lack of principle in mankind, comes in both old age and in youth. One born from lack of days, passing beyond so few a night. The other hardened from too many wrongs, being passed along as ubiquitous rights. Truth finding no firm a ground, to grow without contempt. From those whole look to yield its might, and twist it with malicious intent. Those footed in ill-fated hypocrisy, both by practice and in speech. Principle scorn from lips once pure, forged by what life’s path can teach. And though the values of an honorable man preside, at the conclusion of every poetic line. The truth that’s found between each word, can make a man think he is divine. Spoken with word as sweat as red wine, he believes the world drink with thirst. Or so thinks the man who speaks frivolously, without hearing his own words first. So he drinks in his own narcissism, as his words ring forever true. In his nostalgic mind that never changes, or lets in sound anew. And that once juvenile and prospective boy, whose suns were few to shine. Has become a toughened old man, whose life has yet to be defined. By a principle worth shouting, to the heavens and beyond. Beyond his many nights and far more days, who hold to him a bond. Of servitude to his truth, regardless of its legitimacy. That which forges what will be his legacy, for everyone to see.
813 · Sep 2013
Be my 180 (8/02/13)
Daniel Regan Sep 2013
I have to don the face of madness when I encounter your shadow. Held back only when that shadow pulls a 180. And though I cannot hold the hand of this shadow and spin madly on with it. I grasp unwillingly to the hand that catches my grip. Catches my palm, catches my five reasons for holding on. Because your shadow is the only shade of you I can seem to handle. The one I wait on to signal the coming of a new day. The only one I hold my breath for because it holds no breath at all. But rather the idea of catching up to someone whom I wish to see vanish. No, I hold no distain towards you and no pleasure in seeing the shadowy curves of you saunter off into the sun. No I do not hold regret in the distance found between your shadow and I, because that distance cant seem to multiply fast enough for my liking. And though the closer and closer you get to that sun represents sunshine entering my life again, it will never be enough. Because even when you walk head first into that sun I know your every molecule is still floating in this endless universe of ours. I will never be without your presence, I will never be without your shadow, I will never be without you haunting my every thought. For no matter the alcohol consumed, cannabis smoked, and concussions sustained I will never be able to put a scratch on the lyrical nightmare that was our song. That was our time together, and though I try and play DJ and put a positive spin on our song…Im reminded that it once was played. So I look for your shadow every night and every day. Not for torment sake but for the little sanity that remains to show me that the monster that was once my love can be slain again, and again, and again. And though it keeps returning I remind myself the difference between your darkness and my light is exactly 180 degrees.
810 · Feb 2012
The Lost Boy (11/16/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
With my whiskey in hand and my heart on my sleeve, I struggle for consciousness in this life I continue to weave. Walking in circles as my will drags behind, putting words to paper as my sanity slowly grinds. Into the significance my life forever will feel, as I struggle for purpose and to define what is real. The smoke never clears and the storm rages on, between the demons of past and those far beyond. Who await my arrival with arms spread out wide; their grasp is inevitable as our destinies collide.  Who am I to this world but a man with a curse, forever without control as I drive my own hearse. Down a road lined with faces turned away in shame, as they celebrate the death of a man with no name. A person whose life was filled with regret, for the potential lost in an unwilling bet. Over the soul of a boy between the devil and god, destine to fail despite all the odds. Fait played out as the boys forced to watch, turned away by maturity and a well-aged scotch. Not blinded to the truth as the world spins madly on, screaming for control with all his brains and his brawn. He is forever alone in his knowledge of the truth, as he pursues an identity that will overshadow his youth. Crying out in pain as he falls to the floor, isolated enlightenment waging a ****** war. Free me of this prison that keeps me confided, to a life of insecurity heightened by lyrics rhymed. Measured by a beat harmonizing with mine, the only window to my soul that can be humanly defined. Am I inhumane if no one can see, past the immovable guise that has come to define me? Or am I merely the boy who has yet to find, someone to take off my mask and give me peace of mind?
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Can you keep my tempo? Can you follow my soul as it flows? Pulsating from my musical veins and originating in my lyrical brain. Fueled by the passion between my ear drums, continuously playing as I subconsciously hum. The melody of my life looking for its hormonal mate. Playing together as lyrical soul mates at an eternal rate. Two souls intertwined by one congruent play-list, a medley of dissonance harmonizing as they coexist. Creating our homophony destiny as our progression emits, always following our conductor’s rhythm in a way that we see fit. You are my perfect pitch, the one I choose to follow. Your dynamic hymn bewitching my heart, and fills what was once hollow. This sounds that seems to resonate from my fingers to my soul. Taking over my drone senses, as I seem to loose control. Over come with the emotion in knowing I’ve finally found the one. Watching as my concerto begins to unravel and come undone. So don’t ask me what I see when I look inside my heart. Take my hand and listen close as my composition starts. To know me is to know my music from its beginning till its end. And understanding I search for a song for which my heartstrings blend.
799 · Feb 2012
Separation (03/29/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I want you to live free, in a world free of me. I want you to forget my face, forget about the place we met, forget about my family, siblings and pets. I want you to forget about me, forget about the thought of us as we. I need you to cut the chain, that forever haunts us of our pain. We need to stop this game we play, always pretending to be ok, but hide what we really want to say. You need to think of me as gone, and hope to never see me again. Then, with a little help from god, maybe we can fall back in love. But until that day, you need to stay, far, far, far away. Because once i am erased from your mind, you will find time to be, someone you have never seen. Time may make the heart grow fonder, but distance will make our bond grow stronger. But in order for our hearts to grow, you simple must walk the distance, and go. The distance that neither of us know, the distance that i may one day forgo. So get away and stay away. This is hard for me to say. But harsh is what i need be, if i wish us to someday see, a morning light through the same glass. A sunset over the hill tops grass. A night that turns into day, and a breakfast in the door county bay. I wish for us to someday be, forever linked for eternity. But in order for this to be real, i will throw out how i feel. Become numb to the love i have for you, and pray to god im not being a fool. But with this goodbye i hope and pray, i see your face another day. and i hope you save your heart for me, because here i will stay, forever yours, until eternity.
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Strip me not of my dignity, as i have little to give. When i stand before your gaze, i yearn for you to forgive. My juvenile past that became my beginning, of a lifetime of worrying in this world that is spinning. Standing before you now with my world upside down, afraid of the pain that is causing me to drown. In this purgatory of uncertainty I hold no control, of my pulse that has quickened and my heart that you stole. Of the pain in my stomach that has begun to take wings, and my sleepless nights where your voice continues to sing. I’ve given up hope to find my lost lucidity, as my words and emotions find some validity. In this meek commonality on this once black and unscripted page, set free from my insecurity and my cognitive cage. You are what set me free and caused me to write, to hold back no longer this wonderful burning light. That has taken control and forced me to be, overwhelmingly and uncontrollably happy. I smile when you smile and laugh when you laugh, waiting patiently to see you through its only a second and a half. And though I see myself as completely lost without you, I wish to not be found if you are lost too. But lost I remain as I search and I search, not for my light but for the courage that remains perched. High in a tree and just out of reach, as I stumble over myself and search for my speech. Hoping one-day to climb that daunting tall tree, and show you the happiness you bring out of me. But for now I stay lost and sitting in plain sight, tirelessly afraid to express that which I now write. Looking for the time when I can summon all my strength, and become more then what we hold at arms length.
790 · Dec 2012
Today (August 6th, 2012)
Daniel Regan Dec 2012
Oh how life changes. We take in the scene and tell ourselves this moment matters most. But another comes just moments down the road and as we take it in and we let it in almost simultaneously. As if we know to hold onto this fleeting feeling for all it’s worth and to then make room for its coming brother. One we embrace. Repeatedly. And without hesitation. Hoping for that same momentary high that came with the last inhale. Oh lord what a high. But we realize after one too many moments that our high probably wont be ever high as that one that dictates our intensions. The one that points out subconscious and predicts our every move. And at that very second, it’s as if the hands have been taken away from our eyes. Though we have never been blind to it, we recognize our lack of understanding of our very own human intension. Disillusioned to the highs of our society, family, and world we simply mover more towards our goals now, rather then our childhood highs. Taking a second look at that candy bar, episode on cartoon network, and fresh snowfall. Replaced forever with books, relationships, and a pocket full of security. Establishing ourselves, at least that is what we tell the little man in the back of our mind. Not realizing we have sold our soul to our worlds expectations. And in fact have lost ourselves more then we have intended to. Where have those days gone? That moment when the sunshine on our face felt better then the crisp 20 in our pocket. When pursuing the beautiful girl you saw only once was the only thing that mattered at that very moment. The second the cold rain felt more like rebellion then the onset of the flu. God I miss you moments, childish moments, ignorant moments. At least I lived once. At least I can say I lived once. And at least I can look back on my failures, successes, and missed attempts with only minor self-loathing.  Holding back my tears because that’s what we have been conditioned to believe as normal. Even if we realize that’s what makes us want to cry even more. Hoping for that moment when the tears dried and emotions felt free to the world to see. Where you felt heard, understood, and simply there. In the vision of someone other then yourself. Other then the smoldering presence of your own detrimental perceptions. But we grow up, told to, expected to. So that we can get ahead, not fall behind, keep ourselves striving for a sense of perfection. Though we contradict ourselves with our mantra. “I’m human,” “Everyone makes mistakes,” “No ones perfect.” Oh just shut up already. As if the perfect Greek bodies weren’t enough to make those with delicate self-esteem wish for a dotted line to cut across. Hoping the pain can draw out those forbidden emotions, those shunned feelings, those ostracized outburst. WELL ******* WORLD AND **** WHAT IS EXPECTED OF ME. Because this moment right here, this high right here, this moment of purity will forever symbolize freedom. Suicidal ecstasy from a reality that I never wished to be a part of. A world and way of living that gives nothing and expects more then ones soul is capable of giving. NO, I will have my moments. I will have my sunshine and rain.  I will have my candy and first days of winter. I will have blissful, childhood ambitions and breath in that moments that gives me a high only life can offer. And when I release it, it will not be with the expectation that another will follow suit. But rather with the intention to free.
785 · Feb 2012
Last Thought (02/14/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I’m drawing a blank with what I should write, the bulb in my brain can’t seem to find light. My fingers are struggling to find the right key, and connect the right words that sound good to me. My sentences are short and my thoughts incomplete, blinded by the emotions that always seem to repeat. Hidden behind walls that always stay locked, missing a key that was never in stock. Putting on that mask for everyone to see, not realizing my mask is slowly becoming me. Playing my alter-ego in the game show of life, not realizing the chaos becoming so rife. As I continue this game everyone knows of as real, destruction consumes the truth with no chance to heal. My ability to separate the truth from the lies disappears every time I put on this disguise. One stitched with my insecurities and sown with my scars, of past aspirations that have fallen from the stars. Whose thread is derived from the lives of those around, intertwined in my disguise as my lies compound. Zipped up by my fear of complete isolation, without a second thought or a moment of hesitation. Because not getting hurt is worth more then love to me, regardless of how depressing this statement may be. Looking into loves eyes and watching it unfold, as the person before you breaks it without your control. Or watching those feelings in another person’s eye, as you break their heart and watch them cry. The pain is a gamble that all of us take, but I’ve run out of money to play with such high stakes. So I put on my disguise and do a little song and dance. Hoping the Elvis impersonation makes people stop for a glance. I make friends on the way and move on as time expires, hoping those whom I have met are ones I’ve inspired. And they see past the act and circus performer, praying their time with me isn’t like the Hangover. But no one can be sure of the foot print they leave, only hope that your time and effort were well received. And you put one foot in front of the other when its time to move on. And hope that your fingerprint won’t be faded or gone. From those lives you have touched and people that you meet, those souls you have brought together and made feel complete. So leave the light off and take off the disguise; let sleep open your door and give you rise. To an endless bliss as you close your eyes, and enter a world of an endless high.
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Put a gun to my head, go ahead and pull the trigger. Lifes to short to focus on forever. I find myself questioning everything in my core. Only to be brought back to earth, regret pressent ever more. Following ever little shadows down every single corridor. Avoiding those ghosts, like a movie full of horror. Their faces ever present, in my book filled with lives. Defining themselves by a bunch of silly headlines. Where has my character been and gone, to have made me become this cold. Funny how a few pictures can begin to make you unfold. So you play cat and mouse, with those who got away. Filling your half empty cup with those you met today. Lighting a match in places where ash has begun to pile. Throwing sticks at your past and waiting patiently for awhile. But the past has done just that; left you in its wake. So you drop your board; this is as far as the ride will take. Looking at your watch and wondering where the time has gone. Only realizing your watch is in the entirely wrong time zone. And now your jusy behind on the wishes of today. To busy focusing on the memories that have left and gone away. So you take the next step to getting over this ****. And you write a few words and throw them in a lump. Making sentence begin to ryhme and words begin to sway. Giving credit to the rappers who have paved your lyrical way. And your mind begins to run with voices of today, only hearing the next line and what it is you want to say. So you bleed for your words and make then all come to life. Every cut you have for them, is a lifetime full of strife. So you take a single memory and hold it to the light. And your rip it in half and hold back your feelings with all your might. For your words are all you have in this never ending game. Of photo albums and picture frames, lost numbers and days filled with shame. Shame for those you  meant to call, and still wish it to this day. But understand that god has come and had the final say. So you look at those you've lost, and those you can still save. And wonder if those memories should be left in their own grave. And fight back the feeling of betrayal and hate. And remind yourself each day that it will never be too late. To you show those whom you have lost that there is still something there. And you honor those who are gone, with love and an evening prayer.... Life is to short to focus on forever. But never is life to short, to write out something clever. To stir the emotion of human intent, and show those who matter you are done being silent.
760 · Feb 2012
Scratch That (02/28/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
My mind is a blank, and i cant find the words to write. Scratch that, i cant find the right words to type. Scratch that, Im just going to try and keep this light. Scratch that, Im just going to say what's right. Scratch that, i have a feeling Im going to be here all night. So lets just try this again, from the top they say. Just let my hands type, let them go on their way, way, way, way....DAM IT!! Im stuck on way. Just start typing something. Down by the bay, where the buffalo roam, down to my home, i dare not go. Just go, just go. Take off from here. Let the words flow, let this writers block disappear. I CANT!! Im forever stuck, with my gears caught in this muck. The muck of what to write. Cuz what i want to write, i cant seem to keep right in my head. Its impossible to focus, i cant remember what i said. Something about love, or something about hate. Scratch that, it was something about fate. See what i mean, this game isn't easy. I can always right about that, or reeces pieces. Scratch that, Im not talking about that. This is a poem, i need to bring it back. Back to my topic, scratch that. Back to my focus, scratch that. Back to....scratch that. Im just going to leave it at that.
Daniel Regan Mar 2013
Sparks begin to rage, and cluster on my skin. Scars begin to form, as my demons begin to win.
The pain begins to bubble, blistering from within.  Scabs begin to show, as I bleed forth all my sins.
Evil finds it breath, and a fire now ensues. Throwing water on a blaze, though I know I’m going to lose.
Burning deep within, as my burdens begins to fade. Though the wounds are in the past, the coals become a new shade.
Glowing florescent green and blue, with intensity brand new. As gasoline is thrown unknowingly, by the choices I pursue.
My misconfigured body, has taken on new shape. For the blazing inferno controls me now, as my body is relentlessly *****.
Scorched by my own hand, as no bandage can be of aid. Praying for the ashes and the shimmering remnants to fade.
Clutching to my body, and holding to what’s left. Fragments of a soul remain, as the fire plagues me with theft.
Taking from me my sanity, and all hope of escaping hell. And leaving my charred remains, in this blackened and empty shell.
And from darkened knee I arise, with embers still alit. And dust from me an ashy cover, though my eternal sentence not remit.
738 · Feb 2012
Fighting Through (03/31/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
It's hard to watch your world sink, right before your eyes. To watch everything you worked for vanish, like the sun from the evening sky. It's hard to watch your dream fall through, and keep yourself together. It's hard to get through the rain, when you can't see past the weather. It hurts to feel your world unravel, like a ball of yarn or string. It's hard to humm the right tune, when you've forgotten how to sing. You swim against the current, and pray to god that you will survive. Only to find yourself question your motives, and why you prayed to be alive. You walk in circles everyday, following the path you did before. Working towards a better life, but what is it all for? To strive and fail, to stand and fall. To fight the wind and stand up tall. To find yourself on the grond once more. Your height only measuring how far you've soared. Straight to the ground, where you've been many times before. Holding your head, but only your pride is sore. So you ignore the pain, with all your might. Your put on a smile, and get back in the fight. The fight for your sanity, the fight to keep you sain. The fight to keep depression out of your veins. The fight for your happiness, the fight to fall in love. The fight that keeps you hopefully, no matter where you're shoved. Because at the end of the day, or the end of your life. When your heart cannot carry on, or hand the strife. You'll look up to god and say with your last fighting breath. I know happiness, I know love, and now I know death. Because the fight is over, and your out of the game. No score board to show you who's the winner in lifes punishing game. Because the end prize isn't money, cars, or fame. But whether you enjoyed life and danced in the rain. Whether you laughed with friends, and love with all your heart. Whether you've showed compassion, and weren't afraid to let out a little ****. Whether you took chances, and had a few to drink. Whether you've partied to the break of dawn, even if you woke up next to the sink. Because when it comes down to it, we're all scared inside. But it's how we control our fear that makes us invincible, even when our whole world has crumbled around or feet and died.
735 · Feb 2012
Morning Joe (10/31/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Do not settle for mediocrity, but rather reinvent extraordinaire through words and actions, meaningful experiences, and with those whom choose to understand. Not simply the world found in hand, but instead the world not seen through the eyes of ignorance. Choose not to stifle your knowledge and seek out the catalysis of change. Find that which fuels your passion and grab it with every fiber of your being. Conquer the world under your feet and reach for perfection. Question authority and always ask why not for personal gain but to gain personality and perspective. Celebrate the lows and the highs, and take the time to enjoy the morning’s warmth on your face. Love everyone no matter their differences and love yourself because you are unlike anyone else. Know humility and you will find peace. And when you cant hear yourself think, just scream until the world listens. Fear nothing not to be fearless but to be able to stand when everyone else cowers. Inspire through example rather then with the intention for action. Smile because people smile back. And when all else fails, always remember the revolution starts in the mind, and ends in the hand. xp
Daniel Regan Dec 2013
It started in the night and continued through the day. The wish to find my running shoes and throw it all away. To head towards the setting light in search of a familiar face. Only stopping for a moment to check if my shoes were truly laced. Finding only that my soul continues to wear with every passionate stride. Falling apart to the rhythmic concrete as my laces became untied. Reaffirming my life’s simple intent with every double knot. To find the life my days and nights had truly ever sought. So with tightened lace and replaced tongue, I bandage my blisters and refill my lungs. Hoping their overuse will lead me away, towards life greatest intent found in my nights and days. And as my blisters bleed again and my soul starts to rip, my lungs begin to give and my tongue finally slips. The winding road roughens and the weather begins to shift, as the distance of my journey becomes my life’s greatest shrift. Persevering for the days and nights that I simply would not act, and would only settle willingly on my life's beautiful abstract. And so I struggle through the pain in search of my perfect pace, which could lead me to my destination and the life I seem to chase. But the journey itself does not begin until I abandon my old ruse, and replace them with the souls of my used running shoes.
Daniel Regan Mar 2014
Stand firm young explorer, our reality is before your eyes. The path of least resistance comes and goes with the reading of the signs. Do not reach beyond their grasp dear astronaut, for you can only hold what you must. And your disinclined stance may start to sway, towards a book of spiritual trust. A compass of lost translation, which has been tattered by the evolution of our time. Sown together by imperfect hands and tongues, of the righteously divine.  Or instead you stumble towards numbered texts and the collection of mans thoughts. Classified, organized, and defined in complex logical knots. A thorn bush of intricate perceptions of our multifaceted human condition, subjected to nothing more than our screaming birth and our timely decomposition. But fear not my naive trekker, for the decision is yours to hold. Either with nail in hand or the hammer made ready, may your heart be ever so bold. And though the philosophical plates of these worlds seem to diverge from once connected fates, the heavens you come to find as a result may be behind different gates. Only you hold the key to open your ever changing mind, one carved by humble carpenter hand or molded by mankind. So step lively youthful sailor for the winds are at your back, and the house from which you build your truth comes of brick or with cross-bared plaque. Worry not of your inaction little voyager, for the world will not react. The world remains in constant motion, and will force you to interact. Whether several days of creation must pass or a bang of creative juice, it is you who must chose to dive in the water or walk above man’s made truth. So good luck my inexperienced hiker as the waves of decision roll in. May the solace you find in the choices you make be without regrettable sin. I pray the stars you look to at night point you toward your goal, and that you find a balanced understanding of the earth and your spiritual soul.
720 · Feb 2012
Zoned (02/03/12)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Stupid little games, that’s all we ever play. With no remorse for others as we code the things we say. Day by day as hours go by, we tiptoe around the truth with piercing little lies. Lies that twist and wind and find their way, to an innocent stranger who has now become the prey. Straight through the hearts of those not enough, shoots the misguided youth that handles life rather rough. With complete neglect for the pain that they cause, immaturity blinding them from a nice guy without pause. But we smile and nod when the truth comes out, regardless of the pain that makes us want to shout. And we shake our head in mind numbing fear, as the person with potential simply disappears. And we hold no grudges and simply move on, as our strength reminds our courage that it’s never really gone. So we put ourselves on the cutting block for everyone to see, as we search and search for love and blissful harmony. For obvious perfection that only our blind eyes can see, as we mistake perfections flaws for insecurities. And hold them clutched to our forgiving hearts and say, theirs no price so great that I wouldn't pay. To keep you safe and to give you a life, away from all the worlds struggles and all the worlds strife. And although life goes on we are forever in pain, from the silly little games others played on our brain. We then toss and turn at night and yearn for an embrace, which shakes us from a nightmare of a never-ending chase. Full of unseen lies and enticingly corridors, while being littered with empty promises on the tattered, old floor. Stepping carefully as we cut ourselves on embraces so meaningless, yet yearning for another pointless and emotionless kisses. Only to find the door that turns us right around, to repeat the same grueling process that brings us to the ground. And then we find the will and lift our heads and say, love is possible for this soul…maybe, someday.
710 · Feb 2012
Treadmill (04/28/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Give me a mirror, and ill show you a shell of a man. One who is running in place, but knows not from where he ran. Whos wheels keep spinning, racing and rolling. Obsessed with the race and what place he is holding. Whos world is filled with simple minded drones. Whos minds are simply filled with sticks and stones. Throwing them with the hopes of breaking your logic. Unaware that what they say is blatenly idiotic. Reciting you storied of salvation and magic. Followed up by purification and an ending so tragic. But you are not swayed by their tricks of the trade. You stick to your principles and the conclusions you've made. Living the life on a path you see as right. One that will lead you into the proverbial light. But the light at the end is no tunnel you see. Its a forest of darkness filled with so many trees. No path lined up or lines in the road. No number houses with an area code. Simply given a task that involves you to search. And many peoples feet lead them right into church. But for the man whos feet keep spinning everyday, this simple minded answer is not the right way. For the shell he cares can only be filled, with that which is found in the world that he builds. Understanding the gamble he plays in life, is not about who is wrong and who is right. Truth is the focus of the task he's been given, fueled by a soul that is unmistakable driven. To search and search until his answers are found, and whos mission in life is to find common ground. Ground where we can stand and see eye to eye, and agree upon principles set down by you and I. So when you see this man who cares a shell, do not preach to him about heaven and hell. Preach to him about life and what it has shown you. Help him to see what you have gone through. For its not the life we strive for that defines our soul, but rather the part we play that defines our role.
708 · Feb 2012
Moment Snapshot (03/27/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Great Music Dave,
Sunday Afternoon,
Work needs to get done,
Simplicity of life overwhelming,
At peace for a moment,
Smiling,
Texting and talking,
Thinking of all the possibilities,
Looking at family photos,
Missing you,
Missing her,
Missing them,
Missing.....
Guitar kicks in,
Songs emotions take over,
God i love these moments,
God?
You there?
Maybe later then,
Back to my life,
****** of song,
Heart races with song,
I feel so alive,
I can conquer the world,
I can do anything,
But everything has been done,
What is left to do?
Give me time and ill show you world,
For now keep that guitar rolling Dave,
Stumbling through memories,
Couldnt have said it better,
Should i get to work now?
Nahhhh,
The prospect of life more inviting then the deadlines needed to be met,
Wow,
Kinda deep,
Did i just think of that?
Amazing the thoughts that come out of a one track mind,
there i go again,
lol,
jk,
*****,
God life is wonderful,
Cant think of how to end this high,
I guess ill just end it with the last strum of this song,
And with one more line,
It feels good to feel again!
702 · Feb 2012
Unknown Truth (11/01/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Im held to the ground by my imperfections. Dodging bullets thrown by those in need of correction. Understanding that life is filled with much uncertainty, acting only on the knowledge that I am most certainly free. Held to my actions and words by the thought of perfection, being only that which determins selections. Into a realm by which the humble are seeking, gained only by those whose words are worth speaking. Determined by a world whose ear seem cut off and closed, and unwilling to listen to that which they are opposed. But truth can be heard by the hearts of the few, whose minds are filled with possibilities anew. Whos lives are practice in the faith of whats real, but whos minds are not blinded to what true beauty can reveal. Because truth doesnt come through trial and error, truth comes from understanding that we are all rare. Held together by a contract of emotions and deeds, that defines us as a society with real human needs. To be loved and accepted, held and adored. To act on these wishes and hope to find reward. Because when the reaper comes to collect on our debt, we are all going to wish to wake in a cold sweat. To find more presious time, in our running hour glass. To hold on to each grain and not let it pass. Without cherishing the moment and giving it our heart. Without telling those we love, they are a work of art. Painted by the Picaso of the ground that we walk. Whos motives no one will ever unlock. But disagree on forever, untill the end of time we will. And break our human contract with the blood that we spill. Of our bothers and sisters who feel just the same, as the men and women who share our last name. So read me your books and give me your shame. For logic is my shepard for this world i look to tame. For i hold in my heart a truth unknown. One not found in a book or scripture alone. Or known by those who try to speak fear, through a book whose hypocricy is well too clear. One only found when you see a mans true soul, and realize 'that is all i need to know.' To stare at the only perfection this world will ever know, and hold him in the same regards as winters first snow. Or summers true spirit, or falls pure brilliance. Or when the sea meets a rocks true resiliance. Imperfection may hold me firm to the ground, but my spirits true beauty holds no bounds. And when the world can see one another through each others eyes, then humanities posibilities will break all its ties. Will be stripped of its shackles and free of its chains. Will be free of its stife and know no pain. And we as a beautify creation of perfection itself, will finally find peace in oneself.
701 · Feb 2012
Fall (03/26/10)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
As my life moves on im becoming colder,
Feelings escape me as i get older,
Logic prevails no matter the case,
Emotion finding itself out of place,
Love meaningless,
Sadness meaningless,
Colors meaningless,
happiness meaningless,
Im feeling less,
Less human,
Less connected,
More robotic,
More calculated,
Turned away by those around,
Emotions keeping them off the ground,
Bound by thier irrational sense of worth,
Forgetting of their own timeless birth,
Forgetful of the blood that courses through their veins,
Human being is all of our name,
Pulled to the clouds by a need undefined,
So called hole in our hearts no one can find,
But i am a spectator walking through the zoo,
Watching the monkeys as they throw their poo,
Not aware of how silly they all continue to look,
Knowledge, logic, and thinking not defined in their book,
But ill read your chapters,
And skim your book,
I get the idea,
I understand the hook,
But thats all it will be,
Forever and evermore,
Becasue sooner or later,
Your words will become folklore.
695 · Feb 2012
One Sad Day (02/11/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
There's a song in my head thats been in there for days. It wages war on my every though and causes me rage. Its the song of the love birds, and the words of the love struck, the melody that gives you butterflies, but their songs are simply all lies. Lies drowned out by the world and their relentless sorrows. Sorrows that plague the world and make you hate tomorrow. Its the theme of the heartless, soulless and loveless. The ones who know no warmth, and make me regret saying this. I regret to inform you that love is just a lie, though up by hollywood who doesn't tell the other side. The side of those who have loved and lost it all. All their hope and their fire, lost their passion and desire. The desire to love and be loved until the very end. All hope lost, like a gust of summer wind. For you see you can not win, in this epic game of love. Every thing's against you, its impossible to rise above. Above all the hate and above all the sorrow. So just take off running, cuz you wont feel this tomorrow. So think of love as simply empty cargo, not meant to be given, received or borrowed. Because love is impossible to find, impossible to get, and impossible to show. Just remember that, the next time you feel low. And when you're down there, and cannot climb out. Just remember, that love isn't what it's all about. So forget all the hallmark cards, candies and flowers. Love isn't for everyone, its meant for the cowards. Those who can't make it through life, and need someone there. They tend to see life, as not always fair. But when is life fair, when love isn't real. So take it from me, and just forget what you feel.
684 · Feb 2012
Restless Night (12/05/08)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
A simple truth haunts me every night. The thought of what i am and what i should be fight for control of my every thought, smell and sight. Im stuck in a realm of insecurity and doubt, clouded by the notion that i should stand out. Out amongst these people as a leader and a free thinker, a poet, and a key speaker. For i see my life as incomplete. I've been robed of my dreams and stuck in this place of unforeseen things to be. My purgatory is the action of my inaction. Its the reaction of my inaction. A fraction of my life, plagued by distractions and the misconception that i was in the clear. The clear of my future, when really i was no where near. So my once dear future vanished like those who i once held so near. Those whom i shared many tears and my most humbling fears. So with an unforeseen future in front and a shattered past in back, i keep on moving forward and i keep on the attack. Because i know nothing else but to keep on the move, to stay in the grove, and forget all the rules. Because everything i once knew is lost to that which is my reality. The reality in that the person i once was and the person i should be, will never be born from what is me!
Daniel Regan Apr 2012
I have given up on you, for better or for worse. As I reluctantly recognizes this new reality, in another selfish verse. I’ve been screaming my tired lungs out for you, in this poetic sort of way. And now my voice is not the only thing, that has a debt I now must pay. You were the only thing my soul cried out for, as I navigated this life. But I found poison to fill my empty soul instead, as I traded you for a knife. I did not hesitate at the task in hand, for I believed my compass pointed straight. Unaware that the everlasting cuts id make, were guided by the hands of fate. And now their icy grip holds me down, to a road I wish not go. Down a lonely path I refuse to travel, though I started down it long ago. Confused and immature I was, to the workings of the mind. To the social cues of this two-step mentality, that has me emotionally and physically blind. But past describes that hopeless place, where no return would patiently wait. And welcome me with open arms, to a place I can’t mistake. A place that holds familiar shadows, and my reoccurring nightmares. It has been my home for quit some time, though I’ve been consciously unaware. Walking with these shoes I wear, that are stained with countless wrong turns. Unaware of all the bridges I’ve build, and then simultaneously burned. Just to lead me down this rabbit hole, with no escape in sight. Holding onto this naive notion, of you as my guiding light. But that was before the endless darkness, and before the poison set in. And now no return has me forever, forever abducted by my sins.  I’m staring hopelessly at my compass, as its needle spins madly about. And I hope the image of you etched in its back, never begins to wears out. For my shoes remind me of my faults, and my cuts reflect my sins. But your picture is the happiness I had, for a compass that did not spin. You were what pulled my soul forward, and kept my compass straight. And now no return points my way, towards a character I will desecrate. One that was build up so high, and held in such regard. Only to be thrown hopelessly aside; forgotten, burned and scared. So reluctantly I drag my feet, into this world I helped to make. Praying someday I see you again, and from the darkness I’d awake.
648 · Mar 2012
Choose Wisely (04/04/12)
Daniel Regan Mar 2012
I am looking for a purpose behind all the things I do, maybe not a definite answer but possible a clue. To the direction I am heading and where fate may lay me rest. Is this constant confusion punishment or some kind of playful test. Am I merely a worn out puppet trying desperately to put on a show, for the entire world to see as my movements’ ebb and flow. With the intentions of my creator who smiles down at me, or chuckles at the torment that no one cares to see. Or is choice the only master that my world has yet to know, between divine books and holy scriptures it seems to be a no-show. Silently sitting in wait as the world screams madly on, crying softly to itself at human intelligence forgone. For as we take up arms in the name of what we think is right, we wildly swing our blades as we’re blinded by the light. And we forget the choices that sit there right before our eyes, and then we claim selfless ignorance as our actions cause us surprise. Blaming it on divinity as we fall helplessly to our knees, a deaf ear is where you’ll find all our hollow, empty pleas. So as the blade is forged in fire so too is justice born, and we must answer for our actions and the allegiances we have sworn. And know thy wrath is what they scream in the name of what they think, and the answer to my questions are then found in a momentary blink. As once blinded eyes go dark to the uncertain world around, true understanding of our purpose may finally be found.
645 · Feb 2012
Babe, I Miss You (02/23/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Babe i miss you. Like the night misses the day, like a swing misses its sway, like a flower needs the suns rays. I miss you babe, and I'm not afraid to say, that my head is finally straight. And I'm sorry i made you wait, but i know its only fate, that we be together once more. And i know we're both sore, from the games we both have played. But Im done trying to ignore what is now behind closed doors. But Im finally awake, and I've taken too much time, and i think its time we find, that fire that was once mine and yours, yours and thees, we need not be, apart for you see, me and you, you and me, we are simply meant to be. Free to be, you and me, together and once again we. Can't you see? Im putting it all on my sleeves. No smoke, no mirrors. Just me being real, telling you how i feel. Hoping that you'll take me back. Back into your life, back into your arms, back into your trust. Im trying not to rush, but enough is enough. Im tired of staying hushed. I just want to scream, scream until my lungs bust...!!!!I MISS YOU!!!!...but i know its not enough. Because I've been to rough with your heart, and your heard may be too tough for all my words to penetrate. And i know Im saying this late, but Im going to say this...I miss your simply bliss, and I wish with all my heart, that you hear my plea and find your way, find your way back to me. I Miss you Babe.
633 · Feb 2012
Rough Morning (02/20/12)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
And when your days are short and your nights are long, you realize your faults and everything you've done wrong. You cower in fear at your own selfish demise, as you stare into the mirror at your bloodshot eyes. Stricken with the pain of all that you’ve lost, as you share a bed with agony regardless of cost. Regardless of all those you have left in your wake, for momentary pleasure and sanities sake. And now all that you’ve gained has become all that you’ve lost, as the lines you have draw begin to be crossed. Begin to be erased so that the world can make sense, of a society of people corralled by their fence. All different shades of shame and insecurity, with a height only determined by their childish maturity. But you scale all these fences and let yourself in, hoping for comradely or a moment of sin.  Anything to give meaning to your everlasting nights, and your constant stream of tears that you continue to fight. Night after night and day after day, insanity taking control in the worst possible way. Losing your grip on realities small weak hand, darkness taking over the lonely place you stand. All has been lost in this uncertain world, as you embrace the cold porcelain where you had just hurled. Another night of regret to make up for the pain, that never seems to end as its pumped through your worthless veins. Time to sleep away the day in the hopes of worthwhile dream, that can take me away from reality and a world that makes me scream.
599 · Feb 2012
Conflicting (02/08/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
I wake up every morning, wishing you were here. But every time I'm with you, you always feel too near. I love the funny jokes we have, between the two of us. But every time i hear your laugh, my head is going to bust. I love it when you dress up, and look so beautiful for me. But when i see you in the morning, i tend to let you be. I find myself at war, with everything you do. Im always contradicting myself, whenever I'm with you. Your voice is so annoying, whenever you start to sing. But i love it when you scream my name, i love to hear it ring. I love everything about you, from your head down to your toes. I love looking in your eyes, and i love your little nose. But i can't stand your smile, or the way you do your hair. Or whatever you call your style, they're things i just can't bare. I hate the way your parents are, and i think your church is wack. Your family is always so cold, there is many things they lack. I love that you're religious, and how you speak your mind. Unfortunately you tend to be drowned out, by whatever is on mine. I wish i didn't feel this way, and loved you through and through. But there's little things that **** me off, and there's nothing i can do. I wish that i could love you, with everything i am. But we've hurt each other in the past, and I'm not sure that i can. But there's something about you, and something in my soul. That keeps you always on my mind, and so i can't let you go. So I'll go to bed tonight, and have sweet dreams of you. And I'll wake up in the morning, wishing they were true.
589 · Feb 2012
The Lost Boy (11/16/11)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
With my whiskey in hand and my heart on my sleeve, I struggle for consciousness in this life I continue to weave. Walking in circles as my will drags behind, putting words to paper as my sanity slowly grinds. Into the significance my life forever will feel, as I struggle for purpose and to define what is real. The smoke never clears and the storm rages on, between the demons of past and those far beyond. Who await my arrival with arms spread out wide; their grasp is inevitable as our destinies collide.  Who am I to this world but a man with a curse, forever without control as I drive my own hearse. Down a road lined with faces turned away in shame, as they celebrate the death of a man with no name. A person whose life was filled with regret, for the potential lost in an unwilling bet. Over the soul of a boy between the devil and god, destine to fail despite all the odds. Fait played out as the boys forced to watch, turned away by maturity and a well-aged scotch. Not blinded to the truth as the world spins madly on, screaming for control with all his brains and his brawn. He is forever alone in his knowledge of the truth, as he pursues an identity that will overshadow his youth. Crying out in pain as he falls to the floor, isolated enlightenment waging a ****** war. Free me of this prison that keeps me confided, to a life of insecurity heightened by lyrics rhymed. Measured by a beat harmonizing with mine, the only window to my soul that can be humanly defined. Am I inhumane if no one can see, past the immovable guise that has come to define me? Or am I merely the boy who has yet to find, someone to take off my mask and give me peace of mind?
Daniel Regan Feb 2014
I am so miserably unhappy and i just want to be heard. I want more then your sympathy and a compassionate word. I want more then a sorry and a moment of your time. I want more then 'you'll be ok' and a few words that rhyme. I want more then a kiss in a sentimental place. Found just on my forehead, on the edge of my face. I want more then the struggle and to turn it all around. And I want more then your perspective on positivity and where its all found. Or when, or by whom, or how it comes to be. I've had enough of your words of wisdom and ideology. I want more then a quick fix from liquid memory loss. And I want more then a women's sheets who need a good toss. I need more then a hand and a shoulder to cry on. I need more then a day off and the coming of a new dawn. I need more then a far run or a weight to be lifted. I need more then a career change or my life to be shifted. I need more then you and I need more then me. I need more then I hold and more then I see. I need need more then i know so I can understand. Whether the life that I lead is one that I truly command.
559 · Feb 2012
Scared (09/10/09)
Daniel Regan Feb 2012
Im everything im not. Im everything you see. Ive become someone i told myself, id probably never be. ive become conflicted inside, by who i was and who is me. You have me questioning everything i am. And everything i can be. I always held myself back. Never giving more then it took. Making things simply work, even when thats not how it looked. I always hid behind a mask, and played them for the fool. Always careful about what id say, always keeping my cool. I never gave more then i need to, and it always came at a price. I always waited for them to make the move, i never rolled the dice. I never took a chance, or let it all hang out. Everything i did was calculated, never showing any doubt. This is how it was, and how i wanted it to be. It kept me from getting hurt, it kept me from really seeing!! So i kept up this game, and never let them win. Never let them get the upper hand, and thats how its always been. Because i never wanted to have, my heart ripped in two. So i never let anyone know, what i really felt was true. I never told them how i felt, or anything inside. I never let them understand, and always told the lie. Because pain is worse then guilt, and its something i could bare. So i put up with it my whole life, and always played the game scared. And scared is how i feel, now that im with you. but Im someone completely different, you've made me into someone new. I dont want to play those games, and im done being scared. Im done hiding behind those masks, im done not showing i care. You've done this to me. Made me a better man. Brought everything i knew i could be, out in the open. You make me want to love, like there is no one else. YOu make me want to speak, when my voice has escaped itself. YOu make me want to sing, when my voice has no tune. You make the impossible possible, like snow in the month of june. You make my mornings full of hope, and give my nights reasons for dreams. YOu make my worries go away, and make my insecurities nothing it seems. THe new me is sick of being scared, and sick of the old me. and the new me wants to say those 3 little words, instead of 143. But i hold my tongue and bit my lip, always afraid, that ill let it slip. holding it back, waiting for the day, i can finally tell you what my heart has always wanted to say. like how ill always be there for you, and never make you cry. Ill be your everything, ill be you stars in the night sky. Ill be your remedy, when nothing else feels right. Ill rock you to sleep, when the sun turns to night. Ill show you love, when the world shows none, ill be your everything, when you feel like there is no one. I want to show you, the love you should be shown. I want to give you, the love you've never know. The kind that you dream about, and pray to god you find. The kind you see in movies, the kind of love thats blind. But i shut my mouth, and say even less. Afraid to move to fast, and making things a mess. So instead ill tell you ur amazing, and how i miss you so. Hoping to see you soon, and see your beautiful glow. And you'll say sweet dreams, and ill answer 'of you,' and know that when i close my eyes, what i said was true. And pray that in the morning, you get my 143. And maybe silently hope to myself, that you send one back to me!
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