Human existence
Is a story
Accident or miracle?
An accident, for sure,
But could it not be both?
We
Are alive
And so am
I
Something from nothing,
Is that not miraculous?
People talk a lot
About Human nature
As if We are The Stone
When We are The Mountain
Of The Earth and Our
Image in The Lake
Reveals The Truth of Gods
Our Dominion is the
Consciousness We give away
To get back when We
Know
So for sure
It does not
Work
Not at all like that
I will explain it
All for my child
Under the light of day
Make no mistake
We have Made this place
Where
Currency determines
Which of Us will ascend
And it has been
For me all my life
That's when I look at you
And see you for the first time
A piece of The Soul
Welcomed to an entrance
Among Our every new
Where Our Elders sit
In circles of no clarity
Selling songs, selling food,
Selling news, selling views,
Selling Us modes of Life
Pandered to preselected groups
Test and Market approved
And Selling it as soon as through
Our parents who Would
Paper Our deepest wombs

my mind is a vinyl record
in some places, scuffed, scratched
it skips every once in a while

covered in dust
the shine below
smeared with fatigue

a haunting melody of one hundred and forty thousand, one hundred and sixty hours
over and over and over
looped, destined to repeat forever
the same melody, the same song
a soundtrack of forgotten impulses
and broken thoughts
and misplaced trust

i listen,
my own audience,
and i wonder when
the key change is
but all i hear
is the chorus
i'm fated to sing
for an eternity and
a few spare minutes

because who knows
how long it takes
for a finished record
to stop spinning

Tonight I am not in the mood to sing
I lost the interest for now
Where are the words I need
Where are the tunes I love
They were gone
And if ever they echo back
Somewhere at the window of my soul
I may no longer hear them
As the melody I used to sing

So tonight there will be no song to sing
I will just lay down to rest
And hear your voice
The records I keep for years
They are the ones that never fade
Here in my heart.

I am but a memory that never replays

A broken record in a dusty attic

And there it stays

Life is a tape stuck on record.
So why are you hesitating to lift off and soar?
You only get this breath once so breathe it with passion.
I’ve wasted so much of my life that I’ve had enough of it.

There is no playback button where you can rewind and revive,
The memories that you wasted and eventually sighed.
These moments don’t come back so live the ones you hold.
If moments had price tags they would instantly be sold.

When you try to rewind and sadly look back,
You just wasted the ten seconds that you once had.
You can’t change the buttons but you can change what they record.
So stop looking back, regretting and trying to hoard,

The memories that you once had and now are lost forever.
For if you’re asking for a time the answer is never.
Looks like God never got showed in life’s thankful header.
And yet we are writing to our past as if they were letters.

There are scenes
I'd like to rewind
some delete
others re-shoot
ones to work on
in post production
shots to subtitle
some record  
and others
replace
to finally watch
it like a movie

Recall the past
Refill the glass
Relive his lust
Regret his touch
Return to life
Remember strife
Regain your loss
Retrain your thoughts
Release all stress
Redeem all left

Reveal the fear...

Recall the past
Refill the glass
Remember life
Regret all strife
Regain your drink
Realize; rethink...

Recall the past
Spill out the glass
Think of his lust
Hold back his touch
Make most of life
Be rid of strife
Though full of loss
Think happy thoughts
Always battle the stress
But have some hope left

And no longer hold fear