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Claw the Wall
Falling Love
Human Sanctity
A Bright One
Morning Drizzle
Awake
Recalling Belongings
Bunnies and Sunshine
Ritualistic Worship
Spin
Dreams were what they Wanted
Kindle
Two Seconds
Oh Pretzel...
General Anger
Twenty Feet Up
Lost
Shooting Star
Live Wire
I Am
A Forgotten Plight
Realism
Guilded Vision
Claw the Wall
10/5/99; 11:06 AM
It rolls across the ground
And it trickles down
Across the sunshiny ray
Today's promises are just tomorrow's problems
The sky is falling the rooster crows
And the crows flutter their wings
In a total state of panic
Their feathers fall to the ground
And tumble across the logs of the lost
They can't build a brick house
They are wood
Trees and stone, they ain't the same thin
Sure they both make houses
But which will survive the winter wind?
I now travel from the dry lake
All day, and this story ain't great
Why do I speak of turmoil?
No one listens, they have no answers
Could anyone lend a hand
In the fight I fought alone?
Falling Love
10/6/99; 6:48 PM
I know it may have hurt
I know you might not want to hear it
I know your heart is kinking
With twings that make the pains keep lasting
But please don't let it go
No, let it show
You know we need it there
Never fear my dear
The day of waiting time is over
Over here my love
There is something else I need to show you
And have you checked the clock?
The time has come to be departed
Away, to that great place
The land of many secret warrants
No I won't
Yes, you don't
This time of season is just getting started
Oh beware
Of the past
Or these fleeting times will flee forever
But the last time you spoke to me
I learned that forever had ended
And now a new adventure's started
Humane Sanctity
10/6/99; 7:02 PM
Intrinsic thoughts whittle my soul
Is it a form of cleansing?
I can't take the time
To try to find just what's happened to me
The past is over
The future is yet to blossom
Yes, I've lost
But that doesn't mean I still can't win
The dirtiest windows catch the sun's rays best
Should I invoke such a strategy
Should one such fool tell another to bathe in mud?
It isn't much to advocate
But think of the implications of this divination
The sun warms one's soul
Melts it to the bone
It doesn't scrape it like the other methods
This madness may indeed bring sanity in our time
But bones must be scraped
The sun can melt but so much
One thing is never that easy
Embrace the joys and sorrows of life
And don't forget the human touch
A Bright One
10/9/99; 6:14 PM
To cross a lake or to cross a river?
Everything is at stake
It all hinges on one decision
That will carry much debate
The ambitious fellow would say
"Cross the lake!
The challenge that it brings us
Will happily lengthen the day."
But in the party of laziness
The ambitious one is shut off
His ideas shut out
The slackers paint only with gray pastels
"But it gets the job done!" he pleads
"We'd have to build a boat"
"We'd have to get our feet wet"
"What about the sands on the shore?"
The three's complaints
Outweighs the one's bright idea
They cross the river and move to dispair
They were forever lost in the ensuing forest
Their frost bitten blood froze their veins
Four died, three false, one true
Only one of whom checked the lake
And saw it was three feet covered in winter's ice
Morning Drizzle
10/11/99; 8:14 AM
A time to be gone and away from here
I don't want to be back again
There were tines I'd say "I'll be back by nine"
There were times I'd cry "Everything will be all right"
But the times tonight pass quickly
And now the sun will rise
But now before a harmonious deluge
Of the most cold and wet stuff you've seen yet
Why must everyone hate the rain?
What's wrong with getting your hair wet,
Or everything being soaked?
It's not the rain's fault it is that way
Skip merrily through the rose gardens
Even if you do happen to slip in the mud
And get five thorns in your butt
Roll around a little more
Smell the flowers on your way home
For the storm's only as bad as you make it
Tell me your story again
Tell me why you think the rains are so bad
If you tell me it shows your mood
Please don't tell me it's full of gloom
Funny how so many people curse the rain today
Yet they love sleeping with it every chance they get
Awake
10/12/99; 7:18 AM
They were dreams I had yesterday
They were coming true last time I checked
That is until I woke up
Then all the dreams left
I was placed in a bitter cold wind
Completely exposed, my senses took it all in
I shivered at the fluid bellows
I shook at the howling wind
My arms and legs were stiff like sticks
My stomach churned with the gust
That is until I let it all out
I was the source
And they were the dreams
Maybe this hopeless, hapless reality can be filled again
If not, I did what I could
Maybe they'll listen…
A world without dreams
A world lacking desire
A very quiet world indeed
No one ever reaching for the stars
For they think someone else is grasping them
Their dreams left long ago
Recalling Belongings
10/12/99; 3:42 PM
They tear the walls
Up and down they worked
To the right they threw their bricks
And left them to be collected
Two days until the garbage man would come
But how long until he notices the bricks?
If walls could talk
And love to tell stories
Can a pile of rocks have one that isn't boring?
The sun rises and rinses the water off the stones
Liquid left by an unkept sprinkler
Flowers don't grow with the spring morning's dew
Quite like the mossy grasses do
No one notices the bricks
A few days, and they're gone
They were collected by the mother of all
Shapely sculptures of mortar
Have finally returned where they belong
Mother taught us never to steal
Might she have to teach us again?
That it's wrong to steal from Mother Nature
Even if it's for your homely den
Bunnies and Sunshine
10/14/99; 2:38 PM
The little bunny hopped through the meadows
His eyes drenched with the beauty around
The sun smiled down upon him
And little bunny liked his rays
Then one day a factory was built
Turning the meadow into urban area
The little bunny had nowhere to run or to hide
But the sun couldn’t see him
The little bunny hopped across the street
He scurried fast as cars screamed past him
To the median, but half the street left
No one was so kind as to let the bunny by
And the sun got angry
Rays of pure heat blazed in the sky
The little bunny couldn’t believe the sight before him
People staggering slowly down the streets
Begging him for water
Not a single rain shower passed for five weeks
Then the factory exploded
The former meadow was now a mess
Where once was a tree, then a factory
Had just been turned to muck
There was nothing here in the land before him
So the little bunny hopped his way to the forest
Ritualistic Worship
10/19/99; 7:10 AM
The sky fell through the holes
And the sun rose up
The darkness was funneled out
And the bright day was ushered forward
The people wondered where the moon went
Had it exploded?
Did it leave?
Will we ever see it again?
Not if the one’s will is upheld
He loves his tan
And it didn’t matter if his cancer was growing
His skin was patchy
His blood was poisoned
But he never thought of the fallout
The one was proud of his nation
But his country was being baked
Sure, he might not be as light as he used to be
But his people were bubbling like grilled cheese
The old man forgot about his plastic figurines
He never played with them anyhow
Always being obsessed with his humorously chiseled composure
He would never let the sun set on him
Even when the moon came out
Spin
10/21/99; 11:03 AM
The top is spinning too fast
But it can’t cut the steel floor
It wants to go down
But can only go around and around
Never reaching its solution
Nonetheless it starts to lower
And in time, it begins to stop
All the things must come to an end
Even if they never started
The top’s legs were cut from under it
The cold table never let it through
It frowned upon the top’s attempt
But laughed as it tried
Seeing all it could do was run in circles
The top stopped spinning
It sat there
Restless, but unable to move
What was it supposed to do,
Flip over and roll away?
The table,
What an ingenious invention
It keeps things where it’s supposed to
It does what its told
And no one ever questions it
Dreams were what they Wanted
10/22/99; 11:33 AM
The visions of their holding rose above the sky
Their mindfulness of their merriment
Kept them dreaming of the places
Where they might not venture
That is, until their dreams were won
At last, the lands were open
Their eyes closed, and they saw bright blue sky
Bonded forever with the heavens
Where they might find secret treasures
It wasn’t the journey they thought of
But the reward
“Travel away from day today,
To nights and gleaming stars,
And even if tomorrow is never here again,
There will still be a sunset before I’m gone!”
The old men were singing this in the bar
Everyday dreaming of dreams achieved
All they did was wait by their imaginary phone
Feeling all alone
That is, until they got a call
A crowd stumbled from the tavern
Running to the greener pastures of their lies
Imagination can make someone sparkle sometimes
But life isn’t always so kind
They ran to the field
They looked to the moon
They though that their dreams
Wouldn’t and couldn’t come true
Even though they thought they should
Enraged and expired
Most all of them moaped to the bar
For another round of cold fire
That is, all but one
Oh, he was the true dreamer
He grinned towards the moon
Much like it had always done to him
He gazed in satisfaction
His dreams made him soar
And the stars were shining below
A twilight later the bar emptied
With old men detesting their barroom lullaby
Most crossed around the field to go home
They didn’t want their dreams anymore
But a select few crossed the pasture
Continuing to search for the dream they lost
Starting to be shocked when they saw the dreamer in solitude
Staring at the lonely setting moon
They mocked him as they passed
Then left him alone
They had lost their way home
But the dreamer had just found his
Kindle
10/25/99; 7:04 AM
Everyone brought their light to reunite
Through the misty shadows
They knew where everyone was
The veil of the night should hinder one’s sight
But these people have no such problems
They met in the bogs
Not for a midnight B-B-Q
Even though it could’ve passed as such
No, they were there to cook something else
The demon that was themselves
A bonfire flared in the middle of five rings
People danced frantically around it
And the moment that someone tripped and fell
Would be the moment the fire grew taller
And with every fall the people danced faster
Worried that they may be the next fuel to the fire
But the faster they danced
The quicker they stumbled
The harder they fell
And the slower they burned
Eventually there was one man left
He didn’t know what to do
The fire had consumed everyone he knew
And it loomed over him with no mercy
Without a thought, the man burned too
Two Seconds
10/27/99; 7:14 PM
You looked at me
One last time for the first time
Before, you would quickly turn away
Today however, you seemed different somehow
Especially in the way you smiled
You hand me a shall shred of paper
“Goodbye” you say and turn around
“Good day” I saw in reply
one second had thus passed by
and eternity through my mind
why give me a note?
Why shed me a smile?
Is there some secret you wish to tell me,
Yet you choose to wait a while?
Have I ever wondered such a mess
Emotions may do such things
But you left me a small token of friendship
That now rests peacefully in my hand
And I glance down to see your token
What sort of token could it be?
Too bad that when my eyes meet the sheet
It turns out to be blank and empty
But I feel the ink clinging to my palm
The second second passes, and you’re gone
Oh Pretzel…
11/3/99; 12:50 AM
There were those times so long ago
Where I didn’t know where to go
What to do where
And when to do what in that specific way
But those times have long passed
I sit at my table
Twirling my current snacking victim around my finger
Poor little pretzel
Your twisted goodness
And your warped and salty taste
Leave me to desire a glass of water
That will wash away your memory after you’re eaten
Lackidasically I look up
I guess I’m still working on the “when” part of the “what” question
Queries scrape my mind
As sharp nails do to a chalkboard
And everyone knows the natural reaction
With a quick cringe of pain
And a twitch of the hand
I drop my pretzel of the Harris Teeter brand
What a hilarious fate
You spoony and deranged snack
I kill you with my mind
As opposed to attacking you with my teeth
Leaving my freedom’s free will to leave you in four on the floor
General Anger
11/3/99; 1:01 AM
It burns, it tingles
It itches, boils, aches, cakes,
And it’s welling, isn’t that swell.
Once again it approaches
Once again I let it in
Once again it brings good company
Who bring good will for my next of kin
But it can’t stay too long
It’s got much to do
So it kindly leaves me with the tab
Five hours of dish washing later
The bill is paid and I book it home
Where I belong
Where my heart meets my soul
It retracts, it stops
It spills over again
Yes, general anger has set in
And it grows with the setting sun
Can he smell it? Doubt it.
Can he see it? We’ll see
I’ll let him get what he needs
He has gotten a good tally of bad karma
And it’s my job to take it away
Blacken my name I may
But I will surely win the day
It spits, bands the walls, and begins to grow again
Twenty Feet Up
11/8/99; 7:18 AM
It fell from the tree ever so slowly
But it fell faster as it dropped to the ground
It disdained its destination
The timing wasn’t right
And the meeting would mean its demise
It used to whistle while it worked
Running itself up and down the tree
Dodging bees as it jumped from limb to limb
But its life wasn’t that easy
What it was was a constant struggle
Life’s fruit constantly shrank away
It ran from the trouble
And the vile stench it emitted
But it ran blindly enough
And fell with it
They fell from the tree
One slowly disdaining the fall
One quickly hoping to end it all
One wished for escape
One wanted to get away
And now the conclusion of their misadventure
Will be the end of their days
Lost
11/8/99; 1:11 PM
The threshold awaits those who wish to take it
But never have so many tried and failed
So many bright people be turned to dust
So many lives lost
So many hopes turned out
Silence washes away the memories
Of the good ol’ days and good ol’ times
Silence joins all the ones that are lost
When the final charge is called out
They used to be a misguided bunch
Now they’re a bunch of dismembered parts
Their only desire was to live
But solitary minds lead to dim fortunes
And if their only hope was to die with glory
Then at least they got something out of it
That is, unless murderous deeds plague the dishonored soul
Dishonorable deeds for an honorable cause
Only they would be so stupid
As to uphold such morals
“Kill or be killed” isn’t the only principle of life
But it’s a great way to die
They were lost in the mess of their misfortunes
They lost hope in their bad luck
And when they looked around and saw the meaning
And the meaning of the struggle was lost to them
Shooting Star
11/10/99; 2:11 PM
It streaked across the sky
It’s sole path straight and narrow
But lacking direction
It’s falling quickly and it burns brightly
But in the end it’s lost
The ocean whispered to me as it disappeared
And it said that such things weren’t meant to be
“A bright flickering hope
Giving one a bright glaring light
Can only come to pass with no consequence
It was very much an illusion
I will give the ocean that
But such illusions are what a bide our time
They can become very much of an alibi
Or maybe they may be the wings of the angel
The one who watches us ever so closely
Maybe their wink of no consequence
Can have many great repercussions
But is this the only way they can help us?
The ocean, large, grand, and wise
Once again bellows about my demise
It speaks to me like I am in the wrong
Taking the straight and narrow to try to get home
But only burning out before I get there
Live Wire
11/15/99; 7:11 AM
It flails along as long as it can
Flapping and writhing
Like a victim that wasn’t completely murdered
Its lifeline was cut
And it’s infinite blood pours out
Scorching everything it touches
It drips forth from its severed vein
And disperses quickly
Every drop of blood that flows forth
Is one less thought to ponder
One less dream to leave us to wonder
And it seems as if it will never run out
And every time one more leaves
One more agony seems to emerge
But such is the fate of such lonely torture
No one knows how to fix it
No matter that no one knows how
For this is the form of bleeding
That will scare everyone in the crowd
And all they did was run
And all they could do was hide
For the fear they help could leave them short
Of leading a longer life
I Am
11/15/99; 2:29 PM
“I am” was his final line
And he struggled greatly to make it
His final words were nowhere as bold as he wanted them
For he was caught to early to get the sentence started
And he didn’t even finish what he had to say
What would he dictate?
If that waning moment
Had been a moment longer,
Would those dying words have been any stronger?
But such is fate
When one’s breath is taken away
By being caught so aghast
By that dreaded sight
With a hatchet driven into his back
His final words were more like a final cough
Life’s ebb clogged his lungs
Clotting his voice
Imprisoning him in his own life
And thus he brought his own demise
But for turmoil’s sake he wasn’t in the wrong
There’s no way he could have been
Except that the hatchet wasn’t left in
A Forgotten Plight
11/22/99; 7:02 AM
A final step
A shudder of excitement
Then, a stumble and a fall
Your parents won’t remember it at all
To them, only your first steps will remain
Forever, in that odd way that parents remember things
But to you
The sole disgrace that was the final one
Will make you forever wish you had none such memory
They were so proud of you
During your time of self enduced enragement
They laughed so unforgivingly
As they watched you pound the floor in disgust
Finally, you had walked from there to here
Officially becoming a child
And no longer a babe
But you wanted more
And you knew you could’ve had it
If only you hadn’t shuddered, stumbled, and fell
Soon after you stood to travel some more
But you tried to hard
And fell on the floor
You were engulfed in a bitter rage
Not being able to achieve what you had before
But your biggest woe was the pride mom had
When she hoisted you off the floor
Her smile the dagger that stabbed your soul
Realism
11/22/99; 10:58 AM
It was a beautiful day yesterday
The doctors tell me with a smile
The sun blazed through the purple morning sky
And oh did the clouds glisten so high above
They say it was much like a dream
That one never remembers come the morning haze
The doctors have yet to tell me about today
I think I can hear rain
But it could be more acorns falling from the trees
Much like they were for two days last week
I can’t be sure, that fairly certain
For my dormitory has no window
Leaving me to gaze at a gray ceiling
But what about the time I heard thunder
The doctors assured me there was none
There were utility people clearing trees
So the hospital could have more sun
Or, so the doctors tell me
For the sun doesn’t reach my cell
They said men were chopping down trees?
If so, they must’ve cleared the entire city
And what about the chaos I heard in the halls
Lumberjacks don’t get paid to cut the wrong way
Curse those doctors, they have stolen my sight
And I bet tomorrow will be beautiful too
Guilded Vision
11/23/99; 11:47 AM
I closed my eyes in the lower garden of the palace
Violently vibrant colors scorching my eyes
But that’s not why they are shut
One doesn’t see completely with their eyes
The fragrant fumes of the dandelions
The damp dew clinging to one’s toes
A blind man sees plenty more
Than what we choose to see ourselves
Curse these eyes of mine
I ought to just rip them out
What good do they do when your vision goes bad
Leaving you straining to see what you seek
When you can just as easily smell it out
But my eyes are two treasures I must keep
Senses are only what you make of them
And sight is the most selective of all
Would one rather smell a beggar by the stall
Or just look the other way and not seem him at all
Thus, having the choice to block him out
I choose to see what I wish,
So that I can miss all things important.
I wish to concern myself with all important things,
And completely ignore the rest.
Should I just rip one eye out?
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All writings are copyright of Chris Ward 1998-1999