Thursday, October 27, 2011

Failure & Success

Have you seen the trial
of fire in your  heart
ignored the drum beat
of the Sound

Now the time has come
And yet it has not
You stand still in the morning
After glow

Its been a while
Since pen struck paper
Or ink struck canvas
Or keys struck screen

Choose your metaphor
If you will
And call your tired
Old heart
To battle once more

There is a war
Raging out there
Built on the illusion 
Of plenty
Of wealth
For those who merit it
 
Now there is a time
For you to see
Yet you cannot
Hide

I want this
I want that
Nothing to quell
The rising fury
Of your desire


To sculpt feelings
Out of words
And sunshine
Out of darkness

Come said the feather blind
You want to play with words
There is nothing more
Poignant than this
Or is it just that

Lost soul
Lost way
You know nothing of the 
Other side

My sayings are a metaphorical allure
Do you want to shear the sheep


Come,
Said the wind again
Ride me plenty
Ride me deep
Plumb the depths Of tomorrow’s nothingness
Yesterday’s emptiness


There is always more
Where this came from
And stop at that
Rampant rabid rant
That freezes your soul


Come,Said the rain
To the forest
Light up the lust
Free up the fires
Drink deep 
As you’ve never drunk Before

An ant crawled down
My neck
And I stood lost in thought
For the moment was plain
As the day or the night

You don’t want to quell
The fear
Or the complacency
I want to ride
The derby show

More,
Said the wind to the rain
And the fire to the sand

Empty drumbeats 
Litter the edge
Of tomorrow
Freeing the sky
From yesterday’s dawn
Tomorrow’s sunset 


You have only today to count
And count it well you must
If you will
You can also wrap it all
In a cocoon of indifference
And end up right where
You started


You know?

Thick heavy lidded sleep
Pushes in
the warm smell of tomorrow
building castles in the air


I can strike when the iron is wet
And the dew drops of eternity
Kiss your brow


So, here we go again
Round and round
around the round


So, till we break 
We continue
And …
Cause the rhythm to 
Empty itself
On the dung heaps
Of failure and success

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