THE MAGIC OF POSITIVE VIBES
I’m not the only one.
Thieves
The battle began
at birth, I am losing
and winning, the contestants know
each other, a conversation ensues:
Right or wrong, left and right.
Dual voices, dueling
with love and hate
for myself, born with the blues
constantly, carefully composing
my setlist proposes where
we’re going, we won’t need
no bags or mirrors
for it’s hard to carry
the past and future, looking
at yourself, reluctant to look
when the reflection does not reflect
what you see, refuses to match
the sound of joy embezzled
by the thieves of silence.
Dual voices, dueling
with what I see and what you see
wondering thinking questioning
where these dragons and demons
came from, for you
only know what you know
but I think I have found
my Remover of Obstacles
no longer subjugated by perfection,
no longer suppressed by pressure,
pounding pounding pounding.
Dual voices, dueling
with curses and compliments
enhanced by swirling echoes:
Fireworks dulled by haunting mists,
exploratory howls hunt, chasing
answers buried beneath dark truths
no longer archived in depths uncharted,
no longer bathed in noxious shame,
longing longing longing.
Dual voices, dueling
between midnight lies and morning love
begging to be heard, clear
these serpents crawling round
my brain condemning itself, flooded
pathways twist toward confusion:
Pain or strength, choices and excuses.
Dual voices, dueling
as swamp foxes lure shadow cats
until introspection summons courage.
Sacrificial Shadows
Alarms are like evil
the past present future
the song is called time
A fortune-teller should have more
to say, finally was too late
Dreaming in a conscious way
an unbounded level of transformation
eliminates the wrong stroke
Drown the seed of dark emotions
in breakers foaming with conviction
Each pore breathing fire
fleeting flames at the core
thousands of votive blazes
Erasing wounds caused
an eternity ago, I was someone
Different misadventures returned me
to our phobia of our aches
until I loved love, kissed
By the waveless fairy of rebirth
the haunting fear of life
died.
Pieces
First, you have to
hold yourself
UP
in the shattered
glass, cracking
young, now and
in the future
Hold yourself
UP
for yourself
in the future
I love
you.
Maybe, he doesn’t
see it
like I do
Histories & Memories
shared is the hope
Mixed with skepticism
about living
with anyone
but myself
in the shattered glass
I can only help
pick up
the pieces
until you believe
more than you ever have
in yourself.
