UKRAINE: Our fault or not

Maybe we should've tried to ignore the fight
Not up to us to decide the conflict, so we hide
Is there a resolution, or just war and revolution
Perhaps we'll calculate the cost, and enter in
Without a clear goal nor a hope of it within
But while we wring our hands, roll our eyes
The world watches in horror, begins to despise
That in our minds our role was heroic
A definitive support of good friends
There's no true narrative, this story has no end
What we do isn't based on truth only power
As our failures remind us, and echo
With the stroking of ineffectual leader egos
We laid the groundwork for the path ahead
How many innocents will be dead?

SOURCE

The Ancient Realms

In the everlasting, the forest breathes and grows
In the fields of Elysium, the sun is always warm
The peaks of Olympus striking, as gods gather
Zeus watches and laughs, all of the gods know
Heroes journey as wood folks use their charm
The bronze age, an epic tale, with skies azure
A world so new, thriving with beauty and life
With the vision so pure, humans have thrived

Black Skies, Dust Bowl Memories

Every step into this wasteland is hidden by a cloud of dust
Never able to reap a harvest, our planting died, in a drought
Winds whipped up the top soil, now aloft in blackened clouds
An approaching dust storm covered everything and sky above
Livelihoods gone, time to move, California farms were hiring
Now, in memory, we look back and miss Oklahoma, somehow

Source Link

Let's Go

If I am able to exist and descend
I am also able to truly ascend
I'd tasted Heaven in glimpses
But now, as my life was spent
Into the void I finally saw God
Understood the message sent
Azrael's Kiss, without romance
I accept his invite, ready to rise
All my dreams and hopes aloft
His kiss perfect, not by chance
Ready to take Death's hand
And now, finally transcend

 

Bite of The Black Rose

Beauty in a rose may be offset by the danger of the thorn
But a black rose is perfect, in motive and resulting pain
Strike a pose and watch as the world pours out its scorn
You're not responsible for the wounds, you've gone insane
Make them bleed, be their nightmare, not their dream
Falling from the sky, on a winter night, is a lethal rain
In a madness serene, don't care, in the darkness scream
The black rose celebrates your panic, a comedy most tragic

Fuji

An iconic scene Fuji-san
So great holy mountain
With a peak white with snow
A view most perfect
Seen from all angles
Standing tall, Standing still
Your beauty doesn't waver
Looking from above
You rise high into the clouds
Seeing down to lush valleys below

Think About It

Modern minds view ancient and medieval Japan
Through a prism of exotic, untranslatable noise
Beautiful, archaic, without a modern equivalent
But Japan was more than warriors and geishas
More than the beauty and violence of the sword
Encouraging knowledge, arts, and craftsmanship
But the past is possible to be understood now
By accepting the culture for the intrinsic quality
Rather than into an equivalent of the present

 

Samurai: Son of Death

Ready for action, sword unsheathed, alert
Made of steel and tempered by fire
A body of flesh that is sturdy
Able to think, and perceive
Able to act, and react
Mindful is his task
Poem writer, zen master
Death his sole companion
A living being, a poet, a dreamer
Covered in steel plates and greaves

Curious Fictions

They still dig to find antiquities
Trying to find artifacts
Digging through ruins
Discovering new finds
The past hasn't been found
Our unrecorded past is lavish
Based upon stories, events surreal
Humanity has a history
One that is an epic saga
Myths are thought by many
To be purely fictional
Troy was real, though
With relics and evidence
Narwhals, Rhinoceros and Giant Squid
Every one is known to be real
The world thought them mythic
And by definition, fiction
What matters is learning
Knowing the relevance of data
Artifacts of the past exist
As do various creatures
If humans need to tell stories
They don't always will follow
The required facts and descriptions
They use their imaginations
Not the work of scientists
Archeologists laboring
Sifting through layers of strata

Asking

How dare I ask
How dare I wish for more
Is it such a loathsome task
To think I would like to be adored?
How dare I ask
How dare I be silent
In your love I wish to bask
Let me revel in moments quietly
In knowing who you are
Of what you mean to me
Loving you so deeply
That I'm no longer free
For I long to be yours
In the seconds of the day
Lost in time, awash in you
In your arms, a refugee

Complete

She tells me that she agrees, my spirit grows
Into the deep end, fulfilled, awash in the joy
Returning love, the world in grace, overflows
Hand in hand, my soul restored
I'm such a happy boy

She is Powerful

She stole my breath, by her words
She stole my hand, by her actions
Lost in every moment with her
But minute by minute I realize
Whatever I do, the world turns
Passing swiftly by
There's nothing I might do
That can give me
Anything good or lasting
Without her requital of my love

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,
while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

Lao Tzu

Young Love and Hurting Hearts

As hearts fall like rain, you're in a storm, violent, loud
Young love is passionate, feels important, is it a phase?
If you are in that moment, there's no context, all is lost
Hearts collide, even speaking the same language, proud
Youth and passion, love is a drug, and you walk in a haze
You haven't the years to say, that it isn't worth the cost
Not yet, anyway

The Catalyst

Add love to almost anything, and it changes the result
Add hate to almost anything, and it changes the result
So, if you know the equation, if you're good at math
Choose love, it is a kind choice, and a righteous path

Live it, don't simply play at it, seek it out and pursue
Find people who annoy you and begin to practice
What you lose is your anger, so now choose
There is really nothing else you should do

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate
cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” Martin Luther King Jr

80 years since

On February 24, 1942 America might have been invaded
From above raiders struck, attacking America's West Coast
Maybe it was a hoax, or facts misunderstood or nothing
The overall fears made the threat of invasion well inflated
Anything could lead to disaster, even airships and ghosts

SOURCE

A Handful of Dust

This handful of dust, we have this to remember
Every kind of life returns to the state of nothing
By eating flesh or green, dust is our destination
The rich man or poor man, blessed or the cursed
Leaves us as dust, whatever things we've done
We have nothing that keeps us upon this earth
Only memories and legacies that get left behind
From our lives and by those we do love or hurt
It is the rare life that has reason to be recorded

Ecclesiastes 3:20 (NIV)  20 All go to the same place;
all come from dust, and to dust all return.

Obedient

They tried to kill my dreams, I was lost
As if I were an idiot, my mind so brutish
They'd constantly tell me how I should live
Demanding I live by their rules
Because I was so foolish
But these rules I didn't believe in
And with enough rules
One could take a good life
And make it one of Hell
I spent so much time trying
To just be forgiven
But there was nothing I could do
That could make them happy
So I had to be happy for my self

Art as Life

On the ballet stage, the orchestrated dancers tell a story
An exquisitely detailed movement, timed with purpose
In the depths of expressive shame, the heights of glory
Or a story of a day in a life, a painting of life in orchids

“And even this heart of mine has something artificial. The dancers have sewn
it into a bag of pink satin, pink satin slightly faded, like their dancing shoes.”

                                                                                                Edgar Degas

Cutting

I am woven in scars, my arms, my flesh
I wanted to feel something, tired of being numb
A sort of surgery, a form of self awareness
The razor cuts a straight line, in one strike
Finally able to breathe, the cut takes away my breath
The pain's crawling, my heart beats like a drum
A crimson line upon the flesh, demarcation
Separation of skin from muscle, epidermis
In the depths of despair, I let the pain bite
As the sensation fades away, cessation
Exactly what I'll feel upon death
Nothing

When Jack Whispers

He thought he'd be fine, but what he thought was fiction
Whatever he faced, he'd never to deal with any addiction
The Jack Daniels bottle whispered his name, constantly
It kept happening, it wasn't just his vivid imagination
Eventually he recognized the voice, and the truth
The voice was his, and this was a real temptation
It happened on and on, endlessly it whispered, wantonly
And Jack never stops, until he is thrown from view

"Liquor is one way out an'death's the other.” Tennessee Williams

Unworthy

When our flesh is broken by violent acts
Scavengers scrounge the human remains
Nothing can make us ever live again
The Angel of Death too busy in his task
What can be found worth dying in war
In such a world the first shall come last

“I'm fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up 

wars for young men to die in.”  George McGovern

If God

If God is real, would he dream
Would he have a form
If he chose a form would it be
An elderly man, in clothing
What would he esteem
Because to me
I see a world diverse
With skin colors and flesh
Without a solitary aesthetic
Why would a God be limited
Able to create with a wink
Refuse to flourish
As he had already
When creating everything?

The Hive Breaks

In the constant din of human activity
And a fetid burning acrid scent in air
Fear of failure becoming effervescent
Each day is patterned for productivity
But dreams of worker bees disappear
As catastrophe makes them acquiescent
There is nothing left for anyone to say
And even less one might do
In the face of damnation
The death of the hive comes true

Arriving at the Isle

A silent place, devoid of any activity 

The souls arrive, without knowing
They have reached terminus 

There is nothing here, only passivity 

The dead sleep, never waking

Becoming purposelessness
Nothing remaining but dreams
Unrealized and unfulfilled
Keeping only their dignity
And a quiet form of entropy

Crash

If life is to be lost, what can be gained?
If we trade dreams and become insane
What can be our reason to live
Can our damnation be forgiven
We mustn't surrender our children
For our laziness of existence
Or worse for ignorance or malice
Mustn't allow our future be forsaken
We are Icarus, our father is Daedalus
If we are not careful, we'll fall to earth
As hubris makes us blind to our curse

As Winter Ends

Upon the end of Winter
Spring will come
But the arrival of hope
Remains undone
The cold freezes your being
As you shiver
Your soul awaits
For warmth to follow
New life will rise
As we all achieve new growth
Spring is inevitable
Just as in Winter comes snow
Life will renew
However swiftly or slow

Hunter S. Thompson, Today

Hunter killed himself on this day, in 2005.
In his note he said
He should have done it long before
What use is it being a legend
When you are still alive
Inside him was a barely controlled fire
He was torn in life, by desire
And not knowing the reasons
Needing to know what exists
Can one enjoy a life of misery
If you find truth buried in hate and scorn
What happens if you find the end
And nothing is there
What can one learn from terror
After a life of revealing ugliness
In society, in the undergrowth
He didn't fight it
He lived it, unpeeled it
Holding it up to the light

The State of War

War is the state of multiple parties
Being willing to wound or kill
Damnation and idiocy to blame
Our foolishness leads to death
Every act towards war as a goal
Robs and tortures humanity
We are unable to be fulfilled
If we plan to kill and maim
War robs us of our human soul
War is an act, of voluntary insanity
However honorable is the soldier
However noble the aim of the leader
War kills and never redeems
It celebrates hubris
And strokes our vanity

Flourish

When our father is accuser, it brings damnation
As father the confessor, love as God made man
Let there be no soul starvation, to know mercy
Do not ration love, let us find grace in the hand
Stand together, souls entwined, let us be worthy
If not of forgiveness, of grace, love by purpose
There is only one life for us to learn, as sins burn
Love requires time for us to relearn, and flourish

An Old Man Prays

An old broken man sat in his chair, and entered prayer, and began to cry
"Why do we exist? I want to know, if there is only suffering, why bother?
What's the point of life? If there is anything, would you please tell me?
Because I am tired, the exhaustion leaves me weak, a darkness smothers
I've lost hope, can't resist the thought, of falling into the silence, forever."

"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it
is not in order to enjoy ourselves.”  Ludwig Wittgenstein

Night's Watch

Over time most pilots imagine they'd never see one
But an unidentified flying object appeared on radar
At a base below, sirens sounded, making pilots run
Sprinting to waiting jets, this event required a reply
Above secret bases, atomic plants, a craft hovered
A full moon lit the way, but remained too dark to see
As thick gray clouds multiplied and covered the sky
As jets drew closer, preparing their weapons to fire
The UFO soon disappeared, in haste would flee
Leaving no trace, only curious memories behind

Duty On the Wall

Throughout time warriors watched, waiting for the flood
As the occupying forces they served built massive walls
Waiting for the angry foe to come, trumpets announcing
Sentries armed and ready, able to fight, duty understood
When defiant tribes of Picts, Cherokee, or Vietcong called
Warriors on the wall were ready, despite the foe surrounding

You are Cruel

A cruel joke, a compliment you never meant 
Led him to think you were interested in more
It led his heart to open to the terrible thought
He'd need to try again to love, relearn to adore
But you just wanted the gifts he brought you
The investment he'd give, for not a single thing
It didn't matter to you, truly, to give him nothing
Like the dozens before him, those still to come
You don't care what you do or what you've done

Seeds Drifting

I am so utterly finished
With every new heart surgery
Every call I get, emails and letters
As if I am a bombing target
For war or the practice
Prepared for an attack, when serious
So weary in a world that is a forgery
We can't do better, we are just beggars
Watching the homeless with malice
We are idiots who became oblivious
To the growing cancer upon all of us
We are children asking for answers
But ignoring it and covering our ears
Yet, just the asking of the questions
Has the potential to make each of us
Learn how to fear

The Last

Hear me please as I speak, the last member of my species, still alive
In the wars we fought, we attacked in ways no one could survive
A plague had taken down all humanity, brutally, with no mercy
Taking both the healthy and the weak, the angelic and the bestial
It took no notice of our narrative or life, it harvested our flesh
Stealing everything, and without glory, it reveled in our deaths
So listen to these last words, the human race could've been happy
Instead, it unleashed the powers of darkness, and desire for power

Hunger

Every hunger child deals with pain within
While living in hostile times, a world spins
As planet turns upon an axis of momentum
Each child born has a future, but in question
Will the future be bright, limitless potential
Will each child struggle for the essentials
With a burning hunger, and lasting scars
Will they have a future within the stars?

“The belly is an ungrateful wretch, it never
remembers past favors, it always wants more
tomorrow.” Aleksandr I. Solzhenitsyn

Set me free, let love abound

Is love a magic spell, as it allows the broken a way
To escape their shell, breaking from doubts each day?
I don't know, but I've experienced the liberation found
Within my heart, as I love, an unchained joy abounds

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep
because reality is finally better than your dreams.” 

Dr. Seuss

Broken Heroes

If we ask that our heroes be perfect, will we be honest about it
If our own lives aren't exalted by the example, should we doubt
Do we demand in all others what we'd never wish for ourselves
Do we insist that we have perfection in us, but haven't any left

“If you look for perfection, you'll never be content.” Leo Tolstoy

In Fair Elysium I Remember

I remember that scent upon the wind
And the sound of air rushing by me
Elysian fields alive with the memory
When we lived with the hunger within
Nightmare abandoned for the dream
Do we grow old by consent or fate
Lose the fire within that youth chase
I'd rather pass now from this place
Than to ever forget what if feels like
To know, to have reached and found
In this world both unalive and undead
Which echoes alone the sound

Clay + Spark

Life can be joy, more than we deserve
But it can be one of epic suffering
We are spark embraced in clay
The future is unwritten
So day by the day, we walk
Every new life should be celebrated
And we do, but we get it wrong
As it goes forward, it does have limits
And for some, all hope is gone
We have milestones to observe
However difficult
We can rise or we can fall
And we can also raise a toast
For the complete cycle of fate
From birth to the arrival of death
Death is not final, but it is required
To enter the next phase of existence
Whatever that might portent

The Tomb

The depths whisper echoes, a fear expressed audibly
Cold, dark and damp, the builders prepared the tomb
To be buried beneath a monument built in most solidly
The room protected from ravages of time and erosion
Explorers, found the coffin, in the odd shape of a womb
Sealed tightly, kept from sight, the purpose unknown
But one thing was known, the curse was given plainly
To whomever enters this place, you will taste of death
Your ignorance will cause a curse upon your kin
A vile dreadful plague upon your descendants
Dying from a slow growing malignant doom

Foolish Dreams and Fade

Told to pay attention, truly I've done so
With knowledge of the world around me
But it hasn't enhanced my life experience
Truth has grieved me, deeply, completely
My flesh now fades, breaking, decaying
Forced to watch as earth is made to burn
Providing the evidence of my concerns
Then the city falls, crashing into the sea
In that moment of loss, takes with it reality
We've lived in this way for too long, we cry
By our hand, we've followed, and scream
Our foolish dreams have been hollowed
We've forced ourselves by our failures
To end this life here, to commit suicide
So know this we've arrived in Oblivion
It was by our hand that we paved the way
We stand here for our choices and actions
We were fulfilled by vulgar sterile dreams
After we were given a magnificent palace
We destroyed it with our selfish schemes

Art by Jean Delville all © to his estate

Eternal Geometry

The form of a circle has no beginning, no end
It cannot be used to measure distance or time
Eternity has never had a known starting point
It has no terminus, only a magnificent design
A straight line is pure, clean, uninterrupted
Being of a purpose of measure, connection
Aiming to count or reach from point to point
But nature has no straight lines in perfection
Maybe we are fools to try force any definition
As we question the reason of the creator's hand
And we barely understand why we even exist
Let alone logic's tools under our command
That conform to laws of nature, not of any man

“Mathematics would certainly have not come into existence if
one had known from the beginning that there was in nature no
exactly straight line, no actual circle, no absolute magnitude.”

                                                              Friedrich Nietzsche

Divinity and Entropy

With a rhythm of divinity, and a sound of eternity
The artistic creator's hand evokes the creation
No balance between antiquity and modernity
A world  built upon a spiritual foundation
As the physical world falls fearlessly
Into the throes of entropy
Where it is renewed
To live again

“No structure, even an artificial one, enjoys the process of entropy. It
is the ultimate fate of everything, and everything resists it.” Philip K. Dick

If never

If I never met you, never heard your voice, never saw your eyes
I'd never known joy, nor bothered to ever not wear my mask
My need to know the truth, and finally escape this disguise
I knew from the moment we met, I had just one task
I wanted to know the mysteries found in love
With you I have, I finally found enough
And will never have more to ask

The Big Dance

We are amazed at the elaborate parade
Living in disguise, yes we wear a mask
This is a drama, a costume masquerade
Living our life symbolized with dance
We speak, never knowing, confused
Some are playing charades, others seeking
While others look for someone to use
We never understand, and we never ask
If I am asked, I prefer to not participate
My life is my own to live, not a game
I have no rhythm nor any chance
For I am clumsy and move in a daze
I am not subtle, no I'm a dreadful oaf
But fear not, I don't judge, I just sit
In the corner waiting there, unfazed 
Once again alone, but I have hope
I have hope, at last, to be saved

Storm Warning

As the snows fly wildly, reaching final white out
Frozen temperatures, now crashing below zero
The shrieking wind, with a blizzard level shout
Can't endure the storm, as the cold takes a toll
Freezing inside, brutally violent outdoors
Frozen to my core, as winter takes control

The Smoldering Fire

If pain, suffering, failure, and the pursuit of pleasure are all that life offers
We might be better off not choosing, even if that means a quick slaughter
Born into a world of danger, one of hunger, conformist demands and Hell
Aborted hope, unreachable goals, empty dreams lead to a pursuit of wealth
The emptiness of being haunts one's steps, and leaves a vacant footprint
A joy in life never happens, outside life does occur, but with a dread within
Some are fulfilled by the common life, others refuse to be satisfied by more
Results lead to people with no burning fire, immune to passion at our core

“Uniformity...creates a void, and Nature abhors a vacuum.” Henri-Frédéric Amiel