Listening Out Loud

Watching the news,

hearing the words,

imagining the time,

wondering about just

right now.

 

Reflection in the way,

causeways toward truth,

the ignorance of time,

we all want to find,

a happy place.

 

Chapters in reserve,

there’s no way back

to resolve the issues

we knew way back when

we had no idea.

 

Grew up far too quickly,

forgot childhood pranks,

laughter in innocent appeal,

the world simply occurred,

I stepped in the way.

 

I often imagine taboo,

and then I want to cry,

I realize the storm is heading

clearly my way, and no matter

the time, it will sway.

 

Quiet the temperate fog,

the shadows will remain,

just the sunlight in its

delightful intensity,

still will rise.

 

I spoke loud one afternoon,

the world listened

and a million men

joined in a shattering chorus

of shallow regard.

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Live Your Life

I will wait forever,

to know there might be peace,

waiting around the other side,

the place we visit so seldom,

yet, know it exists,

we can always realize,

it has this potential

for finding serenity,

when all else,

all other motive,

desire,

passion,

freedom of mind, when we suddenly breathe …

I’ll wait forever,

because I know there is a cause,

a reason to live,

to allow,

to love,

we all have that ability,

if we give ourselves the time,

the honor of realizing the truth

is in our heart.

When Ordinary Steps In

Though we step in a path of quiet pause

We remark at the peace beyond our call.

Lives begin, attitude is common ground

We believe our minds change because we love.

A decision is then made to leave applause

On the back of a playing card after all.

While an Ordinary life often found

To be lacking, we reach the sky above.

When in the span seeking for life in Oz

We will all choose to follow thus we fall

Into the trappings of shackle and bound

By their sallow nature shields a glove.

Choose to breathe in a vacuum, simple free

Is our love for each other, meant to be.

Wonder About Wander

I wonder,

a wander,

I wander about in wonder,

the formula of finding purpose,

while walking into forever.

 

I wander,

a wonder,

I wonder about in wander,

the essence of a philosophy,

while settling inside a routine.

 

I wonder about why,

what is it,

causes me to wander,

rather than letting my soul cry,

it is the future of a sweet wonder.

 

I wonder why we wonder,

while the rotation continues nearby.

We Might Yearn a Child’s Eye

While we ran the backyards,

the slow walk through the dandelions

pollened by summer’s bees,

we did think alone,

the same way we,

the same notions, we may

have today, the same wonderment

of the psychological nature,

compels our being,

causes our heart to swoon,

allows for the time to stand still,

we can all be in love

when we know the answer is

truth in the manner of an eternal Grace.

I do know love, I like to say,

much better than yesterday,

though a child,

I knew love unconditionally

until one day …

 

We wander beyond our lost innocence

a compelling stir

of reality and fantasy,

suddenly knowing why our tears

could last forever,

or at least until

we are told that is

good enough,

life goes on,

time to move forward,

hold onto memory,

but never ever recall the same.

 

As a little boy,

I used to watch cars slip up the hill,

a winter’s night, the street light,

snow filled the neighborhood,

and my ten year old self

safely tucked inside a picture window,

could watch the world survive a winter’s storm.

I would often wonder about the people inside,

if they knew I was watching,

if they could tell even in that stormy moment,

they would never be alone,

lost and frozen in the cold,

the ice of the street

would prevent them from

being in their own home,

the comfort of home,

putting aside all of the day’s

concerns,

having a martini,

perhaps a cigar,

and maybe a little bit of fantasy,

thinking about that woman at the bar,

and wondering again,

did she really smile,

or was that simply nerves.

 

I once left a hillside campground,

the whole walk worrying about fire,

and later ran back up the trail,

crossed the mountain creek

we liked to call it,

a little stream of shale and rocks,

gurgling along Woods’s Hill,

a memory,

when I returned to camp,

the fires had begun to ignite,

I felt like a boy scout

stamping out our ignorance.

 

I remember the day he died,

my world ended just a little bit,

enough for me to know,

reality was a far greater burden,

than the easy bliss of childhood fantasy.

I remember thinking then,

I would never worry about dwelling

on the past,

because nowadays,

there is too much excitement ahead.

 

I never forgot you man,

always on my mind,

I’ve often wondered if your childhood,

was ever so easily defined.

 

If When We Wonder

If while our lives motor along,

we could wonder about what might be real,

if we might recall the vision,

we recalled when wanting to wander,

would we wish upon a clever clarity.

 

We wanted this, said to ourselves,

while the skies blurred our memory,

always positioning ourselves

to carry on, to carry on,

we always do want to remember when.

 

There in this room where the papers lied,

he would smoke his pipe,

on the floor nearby is where I might lay,

matchbox cars, and wild romance,

in the eyes of a ten year old boy.

 

There in the autumn breeze,

clouds create a cacophony of chaos,

delightful to the eyes,

of a childhood filled with wonder,

the questions sweep across a gilded sky.

 

Curious our lives recognize time,

the loss of a muscle joint twist,

a groan, a shudder when night lights

suggest we need again to understand,

the hours ahead will always be the same.

 

Where the body remains a vessel,

the heart continues to allow fantasy,

the emotional plea of desire

became my demand in a child’s eye.

Oh to please the wanderer’s sunset.

Breathing Slow Dreams

It is when we want to cry,

the sound will not come,

its expanse,

fills our lungs to capacity,

short breaths,

quiet realities,

keeps us moving through a storm,

taking a moment,

a gasp,

yet still there is a desire to find more,

know a place we might settle in,

get perspective,

develop a plan,

learn to let go,

let go, let go, let go

of my infernal panic drawn by circumstance,

mixed with pride,

lost in ego,

until someone decides they might listen.

Only, we can never know,

when the right time is,

when the chance to breathe,

becomes the right idea of purpose,

compassion,

righteous knowledge,

entitlement.

Then again,

and again and again and again,

breathe deep the …

another lyric away from

recognizing the purity of our own sweet

sanity.