The

 THE

The wanting, the needing

The beat, burn, and blacktop

The voice in the backdrop

The pinnacle we're climbing

The moon piercing veils

The ships underneath it

The fool, friend, and martyr

The gracious high priestess 

The need for speed and space

The inquiry it takes

The soul lost for direction

The sense of strange relation

The stage on which it takes place 

The scenery, the greenery

The flowers, fields, and bucketseats

The bottomed out and settling 

The urge of exploration

The challeges we're facing

The rewards that we're reaping

The starlit summer evenings 

The history, the mystery

The poet and his imagery

The witchcraft and the wizardry

The wardrum sounding suddenly

The Godhead and the end of times

The meaning, rhymes of nursery

The brillance and the subtle shine

The goodbye when it hurts to leave

The hello and the herioism

The greeting of an open chapter

The bravery and intensity

The following of what we're after 

All that isn't mastered, that flowing and congealed

A game that is worth losing, to balance playing fields

Growing old on turning globes, full circle, back to whence we came

A memoir of a memory, scribed upon a well-worn page

Mountain Rose

Drop a call, leave a voicemail

Send a message in a bottle

A neatly wrapped package

That's found perfectly dressed

They said follow your path

Thus, I'm taking the steps

Three lifelines discovered in twists, turns, bends

I hit lines not to quit, I'm found phoning a friend

Its nonsense, its toxic, its beginning to end

Its a smile silently spreading, cheek to the chin

To encompass the Earth with an intricate verse

Revitalizing the nerves, and reviving the urge 

As to find myself living, from the head to the heart

Between latest of fashions, and the lost styles of art

Roads, reels, and roses

Threats and composures

Sun shines the brightest off the crest of the ocean

It gleams from the mountains, and it baffles the night

Blooming both flowers and our offspring alike

Man in the Mirror

 We won't even make honorable mentions

Hearts grow heavy like thrashing fists

End of time, the end of wits... we losing

But wait...

Is it irrational, to think like animals

Act like savages, to feel our reckoning?

To feed on the everlasting large idea,

That something seperates the two of us

Through roadblocks insurmountable,

In kingdoms that rule over us.

We wake up each day with an added aggression

Cause shit no longer works, and our lessons won't lessen

Cause we sleep on the message, the timing and its essence

I ain't no messiah, but does it take a king to see?

We gladly die and loosely, lose grip on reality

Take a seat and make some tea, theres no going back

The train crashed, the boat sank, the plane bombed from the sky

We fall fast, with no name, yet we ask ourselves why

Caught in lie, victimized, often sensing an angle

Looking over our shoulders, growing increasingly flagrant

So if this is the sink hole, tell me wheres it all draining?

And why are we waiting? For brief explanations?

For meek confrontations? Please do some explaining

Not just mere rearranging, but a broad transformation

Not for me, or to neighbors, but to the man in the mirror

Its high time we begin to see reflections some clearer

Both emotional tides and Serendipitous scriptures

Are constructing the vibe of the widening picture

Things will only get worse, before they get better

And before we can fight we must learn to surrender

To the inner-man, inner-plan, remarkable vision

For the power inside trumps that of politicians

When the chasms grown wide from a lack of decision

We must fall, flow, and rise towards a new situation

We must tee off from lies and revolutionize systems

We must lift up our eyes towards the summits of heaven