Where is your shame,
Great Mother of blame?
The sins of generations are coursing through your vein...
But when all the blood is spilled, there is nothing left to gain.
So where are you going...
Who is left to play your game?
How many more pawns must there be?
Before we can clearly see,
The mistakes that are destined for me.
Patience is a virtue, she said with a smug smile.
Time holds a tight grip but only for awhile.
For if I can out wait time, all of life can be mine.
Waiting is easy when you can wrinkle your life line.
Past, present, and future have become only words to me...
For you see,
I only exist in the now.
I have learned to be free.
Free of the regret that comes with the past.
Free of the worry that comes with the future.
Waiting can become all we do,
But if you learn to love waiting...
All of life is open to you.
Loving like a whirlwind
And crashing like a tsunami
Following my heart to heartbreak
And now the pressures on me
When you live with your heart on your sleeve
Sometimes they undress you when they leave
Naked on the ground
My heart nowhere to be found
So call the Redcross
I needs some disaster clean up
We gotta rebuild
But this storm won't let up
I chased you till I was thousands of miles from home
And now I have to go
But you know I like to roam
So I put my shirt back on...
And pin the pieces of my heart back on my sleeve
Because if I don't have love
I have nothing left to believe
So I guess this is goodbye
I'll always be the one to leave
To the man who is up all night,
Who some never see.
Isn't it lovely to be?
To be paid to just to watch them sleep.
So peaceful in their slumbers.
You rarely have a thing to do.
Yet you are paid none the less.
But the job costs more than it pays...
And your jabbering keeps haunted minds alert and on guard.
And its hard for you to be alert too...
When you need to be.
For appointments, errands, social activities, and such.
You take care of us...
But you must take care of you!
Oh mystery man who does not sleep.
Be careful my dear.
Someday it may be you,
Restless in their beds.
I've laid on my back
And taken you willingly,
Because I thought I was powerless...
And you thought you were powerful.
But if you look closely,
You'll find we're the same.
Just two sides of a coin...
Who can't see each other's face.
And don't know each other's name.
Poetry is art
Poetry is visual
Poets can see the words
The way a play write
Can see the actors on stage
with every line he writes
The way a musician
Can see the notes dance on air
with every key she plays
The way a sculptor
Can see the final sculpture
with every cut of their knife
The way a painter
Can see the waves of the ocean
with every stroke of blue
on a blank canvas
Poetry is visual
Poetry is art
Poets are artists
They write **from the heart
Wandering through our cage
We once came here with a purpose
But our spirit has escaped the bars
And we are left chained to the surface
Living to work, working for wealth,
And gaining wealth for what?
To survive? For sport?
Certainly not for joy or value.
Without true purpose
Null of spirit
I have forgotten I have a soul
And you have forgotten you can resurface