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Cecil Miller Jun 2015
Shock to my heart,
Torn all apart,
Still, I can't see,
A better place to be.

Won't somebody come
And save me from myself.
Won't somebody come,
I can't make it by myself.

Trapped by my fears
In my waisted years.
I've searched my soul to find
Some sense of peace of mind.

Won't somebody come
And save me from myself.
Won't sombedy come
I can't make it by myself.

All, all alone.
Never to feel at home.
Why do I feel this way?
Make it all go away...

search on,
for something I won't own
Search, I'm searching on
I'm searching on.
another set of lyrics I wrote in 1998 on an accustic guitar I bought. I  was feeling very Lyndsy Buckingham. I don't think my work in these days was very good, but it came from a raw place. Obviously, I survived all that aingst and fear.
Cecil Miller Jun 2015
I thought about you for a while today,
Imagined all the things I’d like to hear you say.
You said many things I wanted to be true,
And when I fantasized I said, “I love you, too.”

If only I could feel the things you feel,
Are you just a friend, or will more be revealed?
I know I’m not the perfect specimen.
But I love you now, and I will love you till the end.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would,
If only you could love me.

I sat in silence with my thoughts today.
And then I practiced all these things you’ll hear me say.
I never knew I had such feelings inside.
I would have said before, if it weren’t for my pride.

The truth is more like that I fear too much,
And do women like their men to be tough?
I wonder maybe if there could be a chance,
If I am bolder, so I’m here to show my stance.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.

I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.

My heart’s not broken, but it’s fortified.
You’ve taught me lessons, you brought joy to my life.
You’ve shown me kindness, and when to let go.
And lots of other things, I think you should know.

I have to tell you all these words I’ve said
Have just been swimming loudly ‘round in my head.
I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.
I am in love, even though you’re probably not.

And when you think of me,
Remember me with kindness.
If you go away,
Please, close the door with tenderness.
And all you are,
Is everything you could have been to me.
I know you would.
If only you could love me.

I knew that if I wore my feelings on my sleeve,
There was a chance that things would change and you would leave.
One in a million lucky few can feel like this.
I want to thank-you.
I love you.
You’re worth the risk.

Was writing for a musician friend, a guitarist, to see what he could do. Negotiations are on the table. Lyrics completed dec. 29, 2015. All copywrites reserved by the writer.
This is the second time I am posting this today. I deleated what I posted because of a bullying comment. I blocked the silly girl, but was unsure if it would remove her harrasing. Please do not comment, unless it it nice.
Cecil Miller Jun 2015
I dreamt an Angel came to me
With a grin and blood on his face.
Still, a tear was in his eye.
His head hung in disgrace.

He did not speak a word to me
Yet, I knew his mind.
I felt he was a part of me,
As I am, cruel; but kind.

He took me to a stair well
Leading up and down,
Splayed in e'er' direction,
As I gazed around.

Then, were lambs and goats
Battling in a field of fire,
And swine possessed of a madness;
To which I could not aspire.

The Angel pointed, with boney claw,
At the desert and the sea.
I could not choose between the two
Which one should I be.

His wisper was a fount
Of living, crystal clear
Water moving over me,
Flowing in my ear.

His fiery cloak embraced me.
It burned upon my skin.
He brought me to ground, turned me around.
The Mystery has no end.
This is the first poem I wrote that had ever been published. I was 26. I have always been really proud of it. It was lost in the bottom of my entries so I am reposting.
Cecil Miller Jun 2015
You're not a Golden Boy,
And you never were meant to be.
You are a force of desperation,
Seeking salvation.
You live to be free.
That is the reason why
You may forever be bound
To the saviors of the Underground.

You were a bit of a child.
The world was having its way with you.
You tried to make a declaration,
A revelation,
Some celebration.
You tried some chemical shock.
As a dried leaf floats downstream,
It is steryl as an early angel.

You're just a Rolling Roy,
The drifting dust on a beam of sunlight.
You suffer from separation,
By invitation,
And so many things to see.
It is no wonder why
Your golden boy will not be found,
Except by those of the Underground.
This is not a sad poem. It is about how one finds himself, among who seem to be the unlikeliest of people.
It can happen that way sometimes. It means other things, too, but I think I will bask in the accomplishment of what is abstract for a while before giving full disclosure.
Cecil Miller Jun 2015
Where you look, your eyes will find me.
I am in the shade of every tree.
I am inside every tableau.
You only need to ask to learn,
You already have the answer to your quary.
Turn your attention inward
To turn to the Kingdom of Heaven.
You are My Logia.

Whosoever finds meaning in these sayings shall not experience death.

Let he who seeks keep seeking,
Seeking until he finds.
He will then be troubled,
Then astonished,
Then he will rule the world.

The old man will ask a child of seven days the place of life.
The two shall know each other,
As each shall become the other,
And become one and the same.
There is nothing hidden that will not be found.

It is what issues forth from your mouth which will defile you.
Do not ask about your end without knowing your beginning.

When two are the same as one.
When the inside is like the outside.
When what is above is as below.
When male and female are one.
When an eye is an eye,
When a hand is a hand,
When a foot is a foot,
You will know Paradise.

When you choose, as I choose,
One from a thousand,
And two from ten thousand,
And they stand as a single one,
You will enter the Kingdom of Heaven.
This work was inspired by The Gospel of St. Thomas.
Cecil Miller May 2015
SATOR
AREPO
TENET
OPERA
ROTAS

Cropsman,
Alpha-Omega is with you, and bids you go forward with a patient but steady momentum.
Keep yourself to the Old Truth.
Your work
Is that of the seasons which are cyclical as the wheels of your sowing and reaping contraptions.
This ancient charm, called the Sator square, was used to ward off bad fortune, and to heal the sick. It has many otber uses. In this piece, I offer my interpretation, an affirmation of the simplistic old faith. It was often used by christians and pagans to heal sick animals like beasts of burdon or domestic pets.
Cecil Miller May 2015
Why ask why I like your poem? Be courageous in your ideas and ideals. Be confident enough to know that your work is true to your vision. Artists of all kinds, but especially poets, are the philosophers and prophets of their generation. A revelation does not passive-aggressively seek to be worthy. It just is. Revelators, in the converse, often are compelled to seek praise with false humility via the age old pretentious depreciation of the value of their work in order to reap praise, which is the expected polite response. It is a waltz I choose to sit out. I feel it is less than honest and a disrespect to the poet and the poem to revel in such frivolity. Write for the sake of revelation, not for the accolades of topical praise. It is no business of the poet why a poem strykes chords with a reader. Simply allow it to happen. Talent and truth are not always equatable, nor are beauty and integrity always comparable. In the heart, a poet knows he is a poet. By the very construct of your words, Poet, may you be the caster of many spells. Thank-you for sharing a bit of yourself with me. I bid thee Love and Light.
I am a voracious consumer of the poetry using on this site. Just accept the compliment of a read or a like without having to examine it.
Cecil Miller May 2015
Did you ever wonder,
Like I always wondered,
What kind of love
Story you would have?

It was hard to imagine,
I've come from so far away...
We are surrounded by war,
But we make each other laugh.

We laugh,
We laugh,
We laugh,
We laugh...

She is the color
Of the sun when it sets,
A hazy bronze hue-
She is my breath.

She's from the desert
Far beyond the sea-
She could be from Heaven.
She is an Angel to me.

To me,
To me,
To me,
To me...

I'm just a man.
I came here to find my way.
Our families won't approve.
We'll love each other anyway

(We love each other any- anyway.)

Our customs are different.
As different as night from day.
Traverse the dymensions.
I'll meet you halfway.

We shoot across the sky,
And answer the riddle.
How could we make love?
We kiss in the middle.

Kiss in the middle,
Kiss in the middle,
Kiss in the middle,
Kiss in the middle.
A few days ago, a friend e-mailed me a musical recording that he and his brother had worked up. He gave me a working title of Kiss in the middle and an idea of a long-distance relationship. I was invited to write a treatment for the lyrics. I had the idea of star-crossed lovers over a cultural divide. The narrator is perhaps American or British...he joins the military to venture out in the world and find himself. He ends up in the sands of the war-torn middle east. That is where he meets his love. Moreover, he is a mere man at heart but. Feels she is inbued with a celestial purity. The first two verses he is telling the reader about it. The last verse, he is encouraging very directly to his love that they meet on a cultural median where they Kiss in the Middle. This is a first draft, and as it is further collaborated will probably change drastically. I hope you like it. Copyrights to lyrics by Cecil Miller. 5/15/2015
Cecil Miller May 2015
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?

I don't put stock in the things you say.
You broke my heart in so many ways.
You say you love me, but you love them, too.
I'll never again make love to you.

You don't want to be tethered to just one man.
On the flip, I guess I can understand.
So, go on and let your heart have fun.
I could have only been your only one.

Love's not a bag of snacks, baby.
You've got a lot of lessons to learn.
I could have been your only one.
How many hearts are you gonna burn?

How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?

You have many men, but they don't know,
But I'm The ******* Jack Kid, you know.
I won't blow your cover, so don't you fret.
They'll learn soon enough what they don't know, yet.

You know, your logic ain't wrapped too tight.
Your a dead-end bird flying blind at night.
How's it gonna go when the others catch on,
When they all know they weren't your only one?

Love's not a bag of snacks, baby.
You've got a lot of lessons to learn.
I could have been your only one.
How many hearts are you gonna burn?

How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
How many hearts are you gonna burn?
I wrote this at 12:41 am on 5/14/2015. So it is very, very new.
It is kind of a rock-a-billy Homage to Not Fade Away by Buddy Holly and the Cricketts.
Dec 17, 2016, I added backing rhythm and refrain to fill this one out. (I also changed a line in the second verse to reference ******* Jack as a tie in to the first line in the refrain about the bag of snacks. It is very rockabilly Buddy Holly ripping on Bo Diddly.
《☆ Ode to Miller Spring ☆》

I have traveled this road.
I have traveled this road since
first I came to be here.
This journey was
my awakening to the
new existence I would step into.

Foreign to me
the illustrious homes.
Dripping willows, old oaks, poplars...
Perfectly kept grounds.
Checkerboard patterns carved
into lush grass.

This road is winding.
One needs to go slowly.
Families, children, animals, 
all enjoy this path.

The winds blow at this highest point,
up above the Glacial Basin
that forms the river below.
Before farmland,
home to
Ojibwe,
Lakota.

The Spring
The deep Spring of Healing
Ancient, pouring forth
from the center of the Earth.

This road, brought me to a
place of solitude...
An open space.
Land of possibilities.

I have traveled this road. 
I have traveled this road
since first I came to be here.
This road has led me to the new existence
I have stepped into.

Perfectly kept grounds
checkerboard patterns carved
in lush grass.

The wind blows at this
highest point,
up above the Glacial Basin,
that forms the river below.
Before farmland,  
home to
Ojibwe,
Lakota.

The Spring
The deep Spring of Healing.
Ancient, pouring forth from
the center of the Earth.
This Spring, that quenched
my family's thirst.
This Spring, that pulled my
people here,
so many years ago.

A road brought me to
this place of solitude.
An open space.
A land of Dreams.

I wonder,
what Dreams,
this land
will hold for me?

☆●⊙●☆●⊙●☆●⊙●☆
~July 2014~May 2015~
2nd Edition
Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved.

"Miller Spring" is a pure crystalline-rock aquifer that has been revered by all peoples blessed to live within it's reach. The tribes of the Ojibwe and Lakota shared the spring. It was called the "Sweet Spring of Healing Waters" This spring was also shared with Settlers as they arrived. When the land was owned, the spring has always been made accessible, to All People. It should be noted that this spring water is exceptionally clear,
crisp and has a sweet bright taste
It is delicious!
To this day Miller Spring is available to all.
It's icy cold waters gush forth 24/7~365
days a year out of a well by the side
of the road, down about a mile
from my home.

I actually live in a modest house
on two original acres of this
beautiful land, which is now
bordered by five "illustrious" homes.
We moved here from the
City in the year 2000
Living in the suburbs was the
"New Existence" I had stepped into...
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