Static

In this static, the potential is staggering

yet the resistance to move, the desire to stay

keeping things as they are has a comfort like addiction

change is the only action

perhaps

Perhaps the reason we’re here is no illusion

Perhaps we’ve adopted that scheme for excuses

Perhaps the answers are staring at us through a window

Perhaps the dogs were right all along

Perhaps the end is just the beginning

Perhaps time is not measured at all

Perhaps we’ve dreamed ourselves into oblivion

Perhaps there is no end to this world

Perhaps spite is a defense from foolishness

Perhaps longing is a way to manufacture a feeling

Perhaps the chaos is only a pattern

Perhaps existence is only interaction

Perhaps the reason we’re here is to achieve

Perhaps failure is another success

Perhaps the wires all connect to emotion

Perhaps the lines all cross the beginning

Perhaps…

reboot

We’ve been gamed out of the system
instead of square pegs in round holes
we’re falling through completely

Pixels replace sensations
and video conforms imagination
If all of the good ideas have been thought
what is there left to think about

We live in a world of widgets and wonder
dreams are embedded to our brains through the screen
and meanings have lost their words altogether

Communication is so pervasive
that no one listens at all
We wrap ourselves in assumption
and arrogant piety of knowledge

Wisdom is an ancient craft
Tradition is a passing fad
Soon there will be no reality at all

Disfunctional Discourse

You insert your views
on my radio, television, internet, news
you insert your views
and I’ll insert my fist into the voting booth

You talk about racism like it ended twenty years ago
You talk about marriage as if you had personally penned the Pentateuch
You’re just a trash bag, collecting filth and leftover ideals
You’re just a relic from back when the Klu Klux Klan resembled an epitome of patriot

You insert your views
You insert your views
on my radio, television, internet, news
you insert your views
and I’ll insert my foot into your stupid cable news

This isn’t a game, we aren’t here just playing dominoes
This isn’t a game, there are real people behind those hate signs
This isn’t a game, just because you play talk radio host
This isn’t a game, but I’d bet you’d feel better left alone inside your playpen

Maybe you never played well with others
Maybe all of the other kids laughed at you too much
Maybe it was just that you have always had no real respect
For anything honest, anything worthwhile,
Anything that wasn’t your fictional entitlements

You insert your views
You insert your views
You insert your views
on my radio, television, internet, news
you insert your views
and I’ll insert my soaked pinky in your ear

Mysteries

I’m unaware of the worse unknown

the future or the past

I think sometimes the rain sounds like marching
and other times like the static in between stations

Today like yesterday and tomorrow
I’m searching

Trying to find my place

Trying to fit in

Trying to discover that connection from the past to the future

It’s like sifting in sand for a different colored grain
or lifting water from a basin with your fingers

New beginnings have the stain of memory
and change is a slow moving creature

No matter how fast you push or pull
No matter how deep you dig
There’s always something buried you won’t ever find
Until you decide to stop looking

blame me

i’m the problem in this equation

i think that’s been true from the beginning

what you never understood is that I don’t want to be put up with

even if it kills everything i meant to say

but you assume too much from my frustration

you think I have some issue with you or your frailty

i’m tired of being pushed out with time being bided

I don’t want to just listen to myself talk

and I don’t want to argue over what I’ve said or how

these days make me never want to speak at all

wary

each day concern is increasing

wonderment fades over time like compassion

there have to be days and days without end

at this point one day ends without

when you want to work on whim

comes the wary

i need more than that brief moment

frustration

a many ways and means prevent apocalypse

but fuel for any fire is doubt

I didn’t try to make you give up

I didn’t try to make you do anything

I guess it’s true, the best advice

is the one I didn’t take

Confidence

I’m confident in two outcomes

If you guess the worst will be the outcome

the worst will be the outcome.

And if I try to change that

you’ll just run away.

This is the broken cycle

Daze

My Tuesdays want to be Wednesdays

So my Thursdays can be Fridays

Everyday else should be Saturday