Stories, stories, stories
filled with others greater glories
placed on paper, screens, speeches and songs
of pricks and thorns of others wrongs
hands washed clean of what would be seen
done by others, how cruel, obscene, mean.
Who should tell of Calvary?
Christ alone, not you or me
His symbol becomes our cymbol
we hit upon within our hymnal
such is but pathetic
because its not authentic.
But Pontias Pilate is our brother
known better than any other
setting guilty free at shoutings fee
living with the we inside of me
to what degree is my life like thee?
I do not cast off Christ or His cross
only acknowledge my actions as dross
what He won I live in loss
my misjudgement is abundant
I find no fault in this man sounds redundant
06/26/10 - Break-Up
Time for you to know
this is the end of our show
go.
It was but a pilot
file it down in a diary
dial it up to a friend
send it out to someone else.
Well its due to your ratings
datings a deal
something you feel thats real
its the cast that needs a change
go on out to pasture, grange
oh do what you do
someday you'll laugh too.
Its not because you're fat
its not even about that
it just wouldn't last four seasons
and thats one of the big reasons
06/22/10
Indecisive voices no interest
dearest stranger it knows best
or better than those nearest
silent acceptance calls on cue
view the indecisive while I stew
about my brew of bitter judgements
senses are bland
not wanting to sit or stand
the worst is when there's two
who don't know what to do
06/10/10
Despair?
Where?
Barely believing but
fairly taking what?
A word here and there
to taste, to nibble, swallow
emaciated emotions, hollow
following ever so slow
time trudges for those who go
knowing theres gnawing bits
bellied fits, taking hits
second struggle stagnates;
sounds are forces of the fates
to find no fault in feeling-
do is to be dealing
with, without all
words, crumbs, stall
06/0910
With what light from my phone
I do lie all alone
and write of things not seen
nor heard or thought but in a dream
lay my head upon the pillow
allow this world to wilt and willow
out a tune to lure the moon
from clouds and mountains soon
I'll find forgetfulness
then my tongue will bless
the mourning's light
and wonder over every night.
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