We are invincible
Until we're not
We are immortal until we are forgotten
Discomfort joys
Uphill walks all pass.

Time is a wind
Blowing fast and slow
Time is a wind
Blowing slow and fast

Moments of peace and contentment
is all we can ask.

Truth may be beauty
&
Beauty may be truth

The present is forever the past.

That's all we know
&
Maybe that's all we need to know.

Rain
always
falls
on
Sorrowful
days,
Nature's
built
that
way.

"Hello
My name is Robin
I'm an alcoholic
I'm a drug addict too
'May cause drowsiness '
I'm coming for you

I used to be sexually addicted
****** from the Motel 6
On Hollywood boulevard

Long nights
One more web site to go

I'm a compulsive gambler
'The game ain't over
until
The cigarette money is gone'

QVC & Christianity
They had my number
The fourth bankruptcy was denied
My parents, they had died
Where does salvation come from
anyway?

Ran a rehab
Functional as a goliath
Never had any excess funds
Ran the fine line between
playing it straight in supermarkets and certifibile madness
The oldest living road show in America

I'm ready to turn my life over
I surrender
I thought I knew it all
My best thinking got me here
I don't know much about anything
I'm ready to learn about everything."

It's a sad tale
It's true
It happened to me
Don't tell anyone, please.

Darcy was a fifteen year old
runaway
1969
Came to San Francisco
that
was the place.

The most beautiful girl
I had ever seen
but
then I was only 19.

A different story
a different tale
Hugh Hefner
had given her
a flirting stare.
Just to let you know
how beautiful she might have been.

I lived on Homer Lane
Darcy and I, of course
lovers became.
She moved right on in.

As young lovers often do
3 months is 3 years
and
Darcy flew off to Wycoff
to see her crazy parents
he had built a wall
blown down by the wind
she dressed like Anthony Quinn.

As young lovers often do
three weeks later
I followed her
just to
see what we
were going to do.

The next thing I knew
we
were living on 12th Street
across from the New School.
Jimi Hendrix
down the block
screaming guitar jamming
from his fourth floor apartment
we'd all stop and listen.

I was going to
Gerdy's Folk City
singing my version
of my own written
Bob Dylan songs.

Darcy was putting
Huey Newton posters
on our rent controlled apartment
front door.
Somebody kept ripping them off
She added more layers.

Needless to say
we were evicted the next day
as young lovers often are.

It was summer
Woodstock came
Darcy bought us tickets
to
get us in the game.

I was working as a copywriter
writing movie ads
Every father's daughter is a ******
that
wasn't one of mine.
My claim to fame
for a short time running
trending you might say
"Up Madison Avenue"
a girl dancing on the top of a fist.

Darcy
had an ill fated
voyage to France
to
smuggle hash.
I
almost got us busted
at
the airport
Darcy's friend
who bought the plane ticket
hadn't told her about the ******
he
took the hash
and
was coming back.
We
never saw him again.

1969

As young lovers often do

We met at 5pm
at
the Port Authority
on
a Friday summer night

There were a lot of people
jammed together
knocked around
really tight
pivot point
it wasn't all right
claustrophobic bound

You know the drill

Heart pounding
hands tingling
sweating
hyperventilating to.

What would you have said
what do you think you would do?

"I gotta get out a here.
Let's go to the movies instead. "

She was very kind
went
and saw
Putney Swope
Up Madison Avenue.
The city was empty.
I
thought
I heard a pin drop
in
that warm summer night
in
New York City.

The very next morning
Darcy
was gone
Woodstock bound.
I was watching bowling
and
thinking something profound.

Two things left
to say:

will this shame
ever
go
away

And
guess who didn't
keep
his *******
ticket.

Started with
Happy New Year
spelled out
in rails of *******
carefully measuring
which letter
was largest
each of us got one
you
remember.

Carolyn
came with me
she was dressed in red
she figured that bowl
of quualudes
was
all meant for her.

The gang was all there
passing out gifts
rusted out back scratchers
found in the garage
no kids yet.

Sheraton spoke in mysteries
his wife Jane
hustled me behind the shed
Joaquin
was  drunk on his knees again
screaming for ***** and poetry
Patti
had recently found recovery
and I was spending my time
trying to convince her to drink.
The party didn't begin
until
Mary and Stuart arrived
our personal gurus
took us all
one step higher.
Olivia and Aaron
had
much to hide.
Davey
was
the ring master.

We
didn't have to go to the circus
we were the circus.

Little Feat
were still willing
the Dobbie Brothers
in high pitch
were still chillin
the Dead played amazing riffs
Bob Dylan was street legal
the Boss was depressed
the
sound track to our lives.

I gotta job
working in a drug free program
all the staff
sat in a VW van
having a staff meeting
and
passing a joint.

Carolyn and I
kinda got married
had a big party
I knew I was in trouble when
she launched herself
on the bed of gifts
and tried to swim
up stream.
I
learned all the messages
of
Alanon
in one brief flash

Everything passes
everything changes
we all know that.

I got a real job I wasn't qualified for
missed a deadline at school
tossed out on my ***
no 26 year old
Ph.D.
for me
just another suicide
on the horizon
saw my grandmother
and
the white light
but
also at the job
met the future mother
of my children
and of course
she was to be
my
future ex-wife.

When Carolyn found this out
she
brought
a gun to my work
to
tell me what she
thought about that
it ended all right
on that night.

I lived in Laurel Canyon
in a beautiful garden
on Wonderland Avenue
John Holmes
was my neighbor
bigger than life.

1978

It ended as it started
with *******
the big chill crowd
together again
one last look back at the year
in
Super 8
Davey's traditional dance as historian
for the year that passed
one last look
and
farewell.

I'm working
I'm trying
I'm giving it all I can give
I'm working  I'm trying
This life will take
What ever you can give
I'm working
I'm trying
I'm doing the best
That I can
They hired me
To do a job
The job I don't know
How to do
This life
It'll take you
Down roads you
never knew
But we're proceeding
Despite all odds
Who knew
It would be so
Hard
To just make
it through
It's always 2:30
I'm working
I'm trying
I'm giving it all
I gotta give
I'm tired
I'm sure
I'm fired

My life is all
I know how to do.

The
Third
Eye
Laughs last.

Where does
This parade
End?

Willingness
or
Willfulness
We find our place
in
this universe.

Access to excess
holds you tight
in its vice.

It starts off
it always feels so right
filled with promise and abundance
walking into that casino
loaded with cash
scoring the bag at Christine's
weekly motel
one more dab will do you.
She knocks on your door
and only wants you
the night is filled with promises too.

Is this any different
then gluttonous
billionaires hoarding what they can
it's never enough
while the rest of us drown.

The waiting, waiting, waiting
for it to come through
there's that too.

Access to excess
has this advice:
"I'll deal with it later"
and
"One more time. "

Drip, drip, drip
blood
triggered rush
images and cravings
euphoric memories
kaleidoscope
in
one body rush
after another
until there is no more living
in
your own skin.

Rubbing your self raw
to get back to that moment
when you first walked in
when abundance
was real
and
access to excess
was all you could feel.
What a moment of exhilaration.

Of course there are these bonuses too
ending up
with total deprivation
"incomprehensible
demoralization"

Locked in a porta-*****
with a guy and a pipe
out of money
out of time
out of consciousness

Access to excess
what are we gonna do
now.

We walked
Outside to a cold winter night
Sky
To smoke
One last cigarette
You softly cried
I knew why.
We found Orion
Winter high
In the Eastern sky.

There is a dark spot
Within his belt
Thought forever dark
But actually a path
To the ancient ancestors
Of galaxies past
Whose light began
Long before
Our sun and earth and moon
Were born.

We smoked our cigarette
Wondered about it all
As we always had.
And on this night of farewell
And cold clear winter skies
Orion and it all
The only enormity
Matched
Was this moment of our love
And
Our last goodbye.

I stopped
inside a light house
on a dark and foggy night
and in the beacon
in the fog
I saw far too many sights.

Lovers lost in their pasts
uncompleted tasks
of shoulda coulda wouldas
"If only's"
blocking their
paths.

The ferrel human beings
with eyes of gold
but no money
to buy a room
running to nowhere soon.

The poetry outlaws
with no words
left to sing
lost within their prisons
and know one knows
what they mean.

The beacon flashed
and in the light
I saw those
trapped in drudgery
and fading dreams
of being free.

And lonely souls
in darkened rooms
of four white walls
with no where to go
and no one coming that they know.

The beacon flashed
in that fog
the horn it rang
to no one listening
but the ships lost at sea
heard something
but asked themselves
was it really meant for me?

It
Spotlighted lovers
on the far sides
of the bed
their love lost
in what is now
misery and dread.

Wage slaves breathing toxic air
and what's this life for
their breath asks
captured in the foggy air.

Stopped at that lighthouse
to look out at that foggy sea
was all about the poetry
and what it means to me
a light
on a foggy
populated sea
and
life told in scenes
about
those who struggle to be free.

Goodnight Moe
It was good to know you,
found you in the rickety Virginia City
wooden shelter
alone, staring sadly out at the world
so small,
I guess you could call it a rescue.

Once the puppy stacking wild mustang poops on the front deck
Running wild with the coyotes
You always were a scrapper
When eye contact made,
Your half hour battle with Bingo on a frozen Nevada night
Slipping  on the snow and ice.

The night you walked by my side
When the blizzard came
Keeping me from falling down that hill
when I was sliding, how'd you know?
Goodbye Moe
It was good to know you.

Waking us up with the first light of dawn
Sticking your nose
Into my tears
Licking away my sorrows
Curled at our feet on a cold winter night
Chasing  the cougar
Up the Tamarack tree
When the wild purple onions were blooming
You always had that faster second speed.
Now your legs can hardly hold you
And when the puppy came
You were big daddy
Patient and teaching a young one how to be
As you taught me
Goodbye Moe it was good to know you.

Well, now that puppy is probably
Going to outlive me, outlive you,
And now that the volume of your hearing has been turned down
The thunder and July 4th no longer send you panting
You were always to big to be a lap dog.
Now silence is all you know

Far away from those Virginia City
Mountain days
Everything changes
Everything passes
Time spins around
Our days and our nights.

Now hobbling along Dry Lagoon
Where the big waves curl
You stand bewildered and confused
But when you see me you know which direction to go.

The night is coming
We know that
Better head on home

Goodnight Moe it was good to know you.

The
continuity
of
all radiance and vibration
carves
out a space in me
for me
to
understand the secrets
of serenity.

Identify the divine
in
all our
living creations
our utterances
our fascinations
our foundations
letting go
of
all our self defeating
attachments
but those
that
are
our true blessings
and
not
false meanderings.

I
find myself
on
the roads
to
the realms
of
meaning
where
the sweetness
of
love
drips
drop by drop
and
eyes are illuminated
and
begin to see
call it god
call it rocks
call it soil
call it life
doesn't matter much to me.

We
are
orchids
blooming
adrift
in
the black vacuum sea
reminds me
in each
moment
to
consciously
be.

Our love has
become
wet wood
all sizzle without fire
smoke without heat
A cold day's house
without
warmth

Another round of paper
Quick flames and
sparks
Heading no where
except to
silent
dead
ashes

The one last sizzle
of
wet wood.

Santa came down the chimmney
I whacked him with my uzzi
Santa dropped his sack
It was filled with crack -
Now Santa he's in rehab
Grateful he's not dead
Sitting there waiting
For detox
To
Clear his head.

And I
will be by your side
And I
will call your name
And I
will sing your songs,
speak your praise,
And I
will dance with you
And I
will speak with you,
Hold you tight,
take your time,
make you right.

And I
would have come much sooner,
If I had known you
were so lost.
And I
I'm on your side
I'll hold that light
against the darkest night

And I
will sing your name,
we will take our time
until
morning comes again.

The rooster does crow at the break of dawn
but five to seven a.m.
is the hours of the dog
"Time to wake up"
Cheerful beyond belief
face in mine
dripping licking tongue
tail wacking the dresser
in perfect time.
Hot breath
not yours not mine
but you know whose.
Through the fog of the mind
knowing it won't stop
until food is served.
I am never that cheerful at sunrise.

Seven to five
the birds and rats
are in their time.
Squirrels chipmunks
deer
everybody working their *** off to survive.
I gotta go to work
Calling in sick every day
But one foot in front of the other
And I am on my way.
The crows line up
on the garbage man's run
The ducks laugh at every move you make
but you take it in stride.

The cows lay down to
take a nap.
But not I.

At about five
The bear comes sauntering down the street
tossing garbage cans
this way and that.
The best part of work is the drive home.
Neighbors come out of their houses
to watch him.
Power and hunger
a dangerous combination
But in a rare moment of neighborly cheer
even a cocktail was had.
He was big he was strong
We gave him a wide berth
but owwed and awed him
along his way like watching fire works.

Five to eight
The hours of the skunk
and you get very cranky
through the PTSD
of a mean and angry father
and tires on the driveway.

As darkness totally sets in
the racoons come out
making mischief on the roof
batty as the bats that flee into my room.
Those racoons
the more you try to
chase them away
the more they come over
to see what your doing.

You look at me and wonder who I am
Sometimes you snuggle up
While the night birds sing.

Three to five
D.H. Lawrence
called the hours of the wolf
when madness and suicide
remorse and dread reign
Blood pressure
at its lowest
Heart rate at its slowest
Breath down
Body temperature as cold as the ground.
Remember to not
take very seriously
what ever you think
until with relief
the sun begins to rise
and doggy smooches
awaken your time. ..

Have you ever had a Dusty Baker year?
We're talking baseball for a moment here.

Went from .320
To .230
Forty homeruns to three

Every decision made was the wrong one
Every one you should of made
You never did.

Reoccurring themes pop up
Like fireworks on a low cloud night sky
Your dancing on fire
Burning up inside

It was all so right for a while

Now out of the groove
Out of the zone
It all feels so wrong
A Dusty Baker year if I ever saw one

They all kind of end in the end
But every time
You leave that man on third
When you coulda sworn that curve ball
Was going to be outside

It makes you wonder
If it's going to begin again
Now.

Births and deaths
Debts and success
Floods and droughts
Cyclones and hurricanes
Earthquakes and tsunamis
Misery
Chaos and serenity

All in flux
Milling about
Constant movement
Constant din
Silence within
Raging against
the dry dry winds.

Another restless moment
in the universe
Stars are born
go cold and die
Galaxies collide
Black holes
hold
no return
Super Novas
bring silence
to light years
eons wide

Another restless day
on the planet
in this our
moment of time
in this our place
in the universe.

Tequila
Tears
And art
Passion flowers
ignite
Fierce surrender
Holding on tight
Taking hold of the darkening night
Turning Twisting
On a friend's vacant bed
Igniting
Finding
Kalidiscope colors
Exploding into sound

Peaceful sleep
Entangled in arms sweet embrace

Memorable nights
in life
in memory
are played out
more than twice

Revisited
from time to time
through out one's life.

The dance
was done
when they reached
for the gun
Where does
all of this violence
come from?

So many children
So many children
So many lives undone
So much unfinished
So much disappointments
as families weep
to a god
or
universe
with an
insatiable hunger for death.

The slaughter factories
have had
their centuries.

This little blue ball and moon
a tiny spot of light
when seen from Mars
certainly could
bring forth
an expanding
light of peace
which covers every inch
and in this light
the
horror will cease
as
everything will be in order.

The grandfather dies
The father dies
The child dies
and
all will fulfill
the
organic nature
of
their evolving lives.

This common vision quest
within
This common prayer
out there...

A song of streaks and slumps
themes repeat themselves without relief
one minute you are up
one minute you are down
and each moment feels like forever

Nothing is going to change
inside or out
helplessness reigns
every decision you make
you should have refrained
every decision you didn't make
was the one which would have fixed everything.

You sit in shame
staring at the wall and wondering.
A flip of the dice, a flip of the cards,
a flip of the light, a glance from blue eyes
heat crackles midas
touch
you think you know
for the moment you have it all.

A song of streaks and slumps
sometimes decades long sometimes in moments wrong.
A river forever different forever the same

Don't lose hope
Don't get too cocky

In the end
streaks and slumps march us through our time.

In a palapa in Yalapa
Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
He waves his hands in circles and squares
in candle shadows

Eyes turn inward to see

becoming a mind in the present
childlike wonder
big moon rising
pulling internal tides
stretching roots
grounded in the earth

Rudolpho knows how to laugh in colors
He knows how to dance Zorba style
arms held high to the diamonds in the sky

Nothing was achieved but everything was fixed

Zooming towards a universal experience
among the universal mind

Don't know where the night went

Rudolpho knows the ritual of the sun
Told me what I needed to know
singing
"Hurray another day"
while a parrot calls my name
and a scorpion slips into my shoe.

A palapa has no walls
I didn't either
all I was
was windows

Drinking mezcal moonshine
with a local named Rudolpho
he knows all about goodbyes.

Time flies at the
event horizon.
Started small
when I arrived
barely
baby fish size
grew
and
knew
everything
I did
not
know
tho
I now
stand
elongated in the event horizon
the black hole has me in its
grasp
half-awake
half-asleep
my eyes are open
but in a trance
as images pour into
the darkness below
as pieces and particles
of the galaxy we know
and do not know
fly by.

I recall your whisper
in my ear
mother dear
the night before you died
telling me of the art to
be created in the summer
sky
I am in surrender to these
forces
as every moment of my
self flies bye.
Some nightmares
some daymares
some hearts on fire
salted tears of desire
the black hole shines
in darkness,
nothing can escape
no amount of money
will buy your way out
everything you owe will
be left behind
we can only sail
through that black hole
alone
birth or death
no one knows
some peace is made
and then
we go.

There is a cumulus cloud
which ascended
thousands of miles high
into
the blue blue skies
the cloud
rolled in
riding the trade winds
following
the half cut moon.

As this cloud traveled
along those winds
covering
the stars and blackened sky
every human consciousness
on
the planet
was combined
in
the voices and desires
of
all mankind.

At first
the clamor was too much to bear
I
was frozen there
my head in the clouds
but
as the winds
blew
that cloud
across everywhere
we
became
one
silent mind
and
the celestial songs began to sing
and
in our hearts
peace
was finally found to begin.

Relaxed?
Not yet.
Each step forward
takes you further down
inside,
expands outward the mind,
to find this internal
moment profound.
Now
calm peace and warmth
with each breath.

Peace and harmony
for my being
Peace and harmony
for my friends and family
Peace and harmony
for my community
Peace and harmony
for my country
Peace and harmony
for every living soul
Peace and harmony
for our dear planet.

Extending outward
our mind's eye sees
it all.

Peace and harmony
for our sun and solar system
Peace and harmony
for our Milky Way galaxy

Peace and harmony
for the whole wide universe
in
this moment of
being
in
this brief moment
of
conscious living.

"Next".

Joys
of
imagined
**** scenarios
Never
having to say
"Sorry".

Sunrises in your eyes,
Silences of the dawning skies,
the grace when you stride on by.

  Soft songs
your child sings in rhyme.

The rainbow
when the rain is still,
the silence of my heart when
I lay with you -

Birds that fly so free,
the ocean wave
as it drifts towards me.

Winds blowing high in the trees.
Sleep as it descends on me.

Beauty in the flowers
we hold within.

Nature's course,
it comes and goes,
we know.

There's beauty in
our harmony
our poetry
our one singing voice.

There is beauty
in the lives we
live, as they
run
their course.

"This is Tom Clay
on KRLA
It's seven forty eight
there's a sigalert
on the Ventura Freeway
and you are already
too late for work
might as well stay home
and
get into some rock'n roll.

Comin' at you with
Baby Baby Baby
by
S Bonney and the Velveteers"

Baby baby baby
won't you step outside
with me.

The moon light's bright
if I give you one kiss
would it be all right?

Baby baby baby
won't you step outside
with me.

The Aspen it's a quaking
my heart it's a breaking
my mind it's a trembling
my knees are a shaking
like Elvis on tv

Baby baby baby
won't you step outside
with me.

You said he was your best friend
the benefits part I don't think
I ever heard again
and any way
your eyes are shining
Benny E King is singing
a warm north west
desert wind is blowing

Baby baby baby
won't you
step outside with me.

"Remember in the department store
of life
the sports department is
always next to the toy department.
Tom Clay
KRLA, LA
signing off
L.A. it's your day. "

Two outs
Two strikes
It's all over now

There's a line drive
Down the right field line
One run scores
Two runs score
******* in the bottom of the ninth
On a hot summer night
And childhood
Inside
Never  dies.

A
single flower
on a young peach tree
glowing neon pink
in the morning sun
a single promise
of
what we all can be.

When cooking the mind concentrates,
Washing dishes the mind wanders.

Billy arrived when the
sky was all ******
"Sailors take warn
Red sky at dawn."

He never was a sailor
and he never awakened so early.
He stopped for a coffee
at a Brew and Blue

This is when he met
Rainbow - a hippie child
all stunted and rude.

"Enlightenment will never be mine"
Billy muttered as he climbed into the orange booth.
Eying Rainbow's *****.

Rainbow looked him over
she had seen one too many
dusty would be sailors.

But something about his
manner-gave her hope
for something that mattered.

They looked into each
other's eyes to find
two companions without
disguise.

This rather shocked them
into disbelief but
life takes twists and
turns definitely different
than whatever we expect.

Billy was a screenwriter's
son with wealth and
health
Abandoning all fantasy
he claimed he rode
the rails in order to be free.

Rainbow raised by a bipolar
soul, who claimed never to know,
wandered aimlessly
with no where to go -
she had slept in stairwells
of stranger's homes - till
mother's flip was over
and she was taken to the car -
her new home, again.

Billy and Rainbow, as ridiculous
as it comes, tried to deny it,
but knew they had already begun.

It has slipped their minds
they were lovers from kingdom come.

Billy left and went
searching for other scars.
Rainbow sat on her
porch and searched the stars.

The train blew its whistle
at the crossing
and the rains began to come.

A week later, Billy was
back setting up a home,
waiting to find Rainbow
who had hit the road
searching for Billy,
that lost soul.

They both remembered
what had slipped their minds
being together was one
moment when life was
kind.

Hoping that something
thrilling
Will come your way
Awaken you to the joy
of living.

Blessings they speak
In many ways
On any given day.
There is of course
The sun's return
After darkness reigns
There is that first
Breath the infant takes
The last breath
The old man shakes
And takes away the pain.

The each moment
Each ocean wave
Each snowflake
Each lovers look
Each gentle touch
Each sun at noon
Each son and daughter too.
Each child's laugh
Each joyous room
Each innocent mistakes
Which go right anyway.

Each moment of peace
Each moment unique
Each moment of hope
Each moment of you.

The freedom to choose
The freedom to refuse
It's within our attitudes
That's a blessing too.

This life is short
There is no doubt
The birds they sing
And though our lives
They probably don't mean a thing
The many generations
Come and go
Don't I know.

But in this moment so fleeting
It is blessings I am remembering
And in the many shapes
And sounds of suffering
That we can't deny
It is easy to miss
The traveler dressed in white
In the blowing snow
And so it is with the
Blessings
We need to remember
To
Know

Ocean wave
curls and calls
gives its all
then
withdraws.

Running down that Ecstasy Highway
as fast as my little legs can carry me
I'm blind as a bat with ear plugs
But we  were both
searching through this night time
skyway
reaching out to touch some one
and be touched.

All the guide books said this is the way,
turn right at Desire
turn left at Oblivion
and head on down
to the
neon lights, you can't miss it
as long as you are riding that
Ecstasy Highway.

I was told
some people find it at the end of a needle
others wait for the drop of the cards
and there are those who throw themselves
off that mountain side cliff looking for the winds to ride.
Some find it laying with you.

I've gone somewhere else I can't describe
made a wrong turn
thought it was a Transcendental highway
maybe
because I've been up and down,
made wrong turns right and left
made a wrong turn
at the corner of Sanctuary and Bliss.
I'd ask directions but there is not a soul around,
smacking my GPS
lost beyond words
with nothing familiar
in
neighborhoods looming
stark cracked out buildings
and
broken street lights
people with apocalyptic eyes
even the cops won't come down here any more
and the only help I've found
the only guide I have
is delusional and lost
though occasionally profound
dressed in piercings and tatoos
and she keeps yelling at me
something about going home to you.

Too tired to go on.

Had lost that bat back at the beginning of dawn
finally sat down at the coffee shop
at the corner
of
Love and Compassion
ordered up some hot self-acceptance
took a breath and looked around
still looking for the way back home.
I know it's just down the road
a stop light or so
maybe there's an on ramp
or a sign pointing out the way
to get back
on that
Ecstasy Highway.

I stopped at a gas station
talked to a guy
who told me lefts and rights
but my eye lids fluttered
fell asleep
right when he told me what I wanted to know
and when I opened my eyes
the station was closed
not a soul around
and I was running down
unfamiliar roads.

So if you hear a small lost voice
in the night
that's probably the sound of me
standing at the crossroads
of
Self-pity and Remorse
knocking at the Post Office
trying to mail these words
at a place that been long closed.
Please give me a hug or two
and send me on my way
if you give me any advice
I probably won't hear a word you say.
You see
I'm trying to make my way
back again
to that
Ecstasy Highway.

When the tide comes in
the tide holds back
for
no man
no woman
no child.

It keeps on rising.
You're going to get your feet wet first
your ankles are next
but
it's not stopping there
your legs and thighs
your stomach too
as
panic
starts to set in.

Your will won't stop it
Your prayers won't stop it
Your love won't even slow it down.

Ego disintegrates immediately
but that tide still rolls on in.

Some will try to hold on like
flags in the rising waters
some will swim
others will run
some passively will perish.

This tide, like change, will not recede
and those that survive
are those that ran to higher ground
as the water receded from the land
for they
knew exactly what it was
they were seeing.

Don't look at her
She knows you
Sitting in the back of the casino
Where only the **** addicts hide
Like some AOD group
The facilitators crack wise
While the ****** addict with the
Coffee cup in her hand closes her eyes
Never spilling a drop.
Everyone is always "tired".

Vice has an anthem singing until dawn
The private places people go
One more round of chips and dip
Naked bodies on the phone
Chug chug chug
Fasting until spaghetti size
Hoarders howling as the garbage man rolls down the block

Human minds oh so twisted
Try to straighten it all out
The promise of abundance
Pockets full
Ending up in the suicidal parking lot walk when it all becomes too real

Vice is nice, asks you to come right on in, never says no as long as you have the dough re me.

Don't look now
It's looking at you
Knows you far too well.

I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know what I'm feeling
I don't know where I'm going
I don't know who I'm being
I'm overwhelmed,
frustrated,
I can't cope

These are the slogans
I repeat to myself
Over and over again

Oh yeah

I'm a failure too
I've lived this life
What did I do?
What do I have to
show for it?

These facts about myself
are the one thing
I'm very positive about.

I repeat these slogans
day in and day out
always wondering
what I'm so
depressed about

I bury my head in these sands

Suffocating
Smothering
choking on anxiety
in my own
advertising slogans
on my private airwaves

To complicate
matters
worse
just because we think something
doesn't make it true
that goes for
self worth too.

But

Mindfulness
stands
watching the passing cars
from a freeway overpass
like our racing thoughts
not holding on
not making them go away,
in peace
simply
letting them
be.

You crawled into my sheets
To warm me up
But
When you left
You
were
so
Cold.

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You think
you're
following
somebody.

Finally,
I'm comin' around

I've been gone a
long long
time

I'm coming around

I'm kicking back in

My eyes beginning
to
see again.

The
faded
hated
self
I've been -
the haze
of fog
without
within

The rolling
of
sleep,
sleep
never
really
very deep

But
I'm comin' around
I'm coming around

The girls
they
look
so good
again

It's been a month
of Sunday's
since I felt the power surge

Ready to
put
my party boots
on,
head to town
see
what
maybe can
be found

I'm comin' around

All those issues
are
dead and gone
I know, I know
there's
always
another
box of tissues

But
that's okay
I'm back to seeing the world
seeing it
some way
sometimes
even
my way

I'm comin' around
I'm coming around.

My trees have personalities
I know I must be going
a little crazy.

The dog wood howls at the moon

The Waxmertyl craves the river

The Monterey Pine flourishes
It'll know me when I die.

The Cybress is a youngin
Not quite sure

Under the plum tree many times I've cried
for all of the innocence inside.

The Elder Berry has an identity crisis
Doesn't know if it's a bush
Or a tree.

I'm not saying their trying to talk to me
And I'm not saying I'm trying to talk to them
I'm just saying
We're all here
Just trying to be.