Of The Easy Road

I just had a thought. And I haven't posted anything in a really long time. So I'm going to share. I heard a song the other day which had a line that went, "And I don't have to love a thing to much". I'd heard this song many times but right then, I heard that lyric.
It's so much easier not to love.
It's so much easier to just be selfish and pursue one's own passions and not consider those who might be depending on you. It's so much easier to not have to commit to anything so that your never obligated to do something uncomfortable. It's so much easier to steal and cheat your way to the finish line and the prize without actually running the race. It's so much easier to just turn your back on someone who has offended you and leave them behind. It's so much easier not to forgive than to give the offender mercy and grace. It's so much easier not to open up to someone and subject yourself to accountability or possible rebuke. It's so much easier to lay in a cookie-cutter and be a surface-talker never knowing anyone and never being known, never sharing your beliefs, never doing anything different. It's so much easier to appease your minuet-emotions rather than stop your desires to consider the end effect. It's so much easier to self analyze your own contradictions all the time and not challenge yourself with any action.
It's so much easier not to love.
But is it?
Does life become any easier when you choose not to forget the offenses of your neighbor so that you sit and are reminded of them and they pain you as long as you hold them. Does it really become any easier when after you've got the trophy and are heading home, the law comes collecting and you face the consequences? Is it really any easier to hide your beliefs and convictions so that sooner or later you feel unknown by those around you and insecure about who you are? Does it become any easier the longer you self analyze and then one day look back to find all that time has gone and you've got nothing to show for it? Does it really become easier to ignore those who depend on you or have invested time into you until they finally leave and take they're support with them? Does it really become easier when after you've appeased your momentary urges you have to deal with sour seeds you've sown around you?
It's so much harder to invest and sacrifice in a brighter future, than to live loveless and expect you'll get a good share somehow.
But by God, in the end of the day, it's worth it.

Of Souls for Sale

Soul for sale! Soul for sale!
Does someone need a soul? Do tell!
For the Devil would take it
I couldn’t push it in his hands,
He said, “Boy you must have me mistaken,
I only purchase useful lots of land.”
And dear Jesus wouldn’t buy it
I couldn’t bribe him with two pence of pain
He said, “Son you must have me mistaken,
I only save those souls which call my name.”
Oh, Soul for sale! Soul for sale!
Will anyone take this soul? Do tell!
For the butcher and barber
Both just shook their heads in shame
I guess they have no use for souls
Who give them no great gain
And the King and Queen and peasants
Oddly gave all the same reply:
“What good is swapping souls my friend?
It won’t change your choices in the end.”
Soul for sale! Soul for sale!
Please! Will you take this soul? Do tell!
So I asked the dead poets and Rhyme if indeed
First, this claim was true, and then what I would need
And they all agreed and conveyed to me
That to sell my soul was like not loving you
This they said-
“The actions one takes is never based on the future,
Nor the present-
And with the exception of when unchecked feelings surge,
The history of the memories and eyes of the owner,
Are the two dominate tools used for most common sinners.
So you see why you cannot stop loving that soul?
While the future is bleak, the past overflows!
And you, being you, are in a particular bind,
For better or worse, to the worse you are blind.
And so with only good memories of everyone else
You are bound to love them, though as for yourself,
Seems not so fortunate as it’s your soul you would sell
And for two pence of pain? Come, you’d better listen up well
See, whether or not your soul is crooked or straight
All you can do to improve the choices you make,
Is to not rely on your own strength to carry this weight,
For only by losing your life, eternity will you gain.”

Of Studio 7

I had a concert tonight... it was good, one of the things I love about ameture gigs is that you get to hear other musicians that arn't popular and mainstream and you get to see which ones are going to be the good undiscovered bands that no one may ever hear about, but you were there to play with them and give them your regards. Most of them have just EP's out so most of the their songs remain unrecorded, and I don't know there is something about being privilaged to hear songs live that no one else has heard, might here. It makes you feel pretty special. Tonight, these gentlemen named Dear Penny caught me with a cover song. It's called "Come Back Down" by Ivory but they did an excellent, simple, moving version...

"i know sometimes, people say it'll be all right.
but i have to think, it's not that way in her mind.
and everything's not fine, so don't tell her it takes time.
cause everywhere she looks, she's reminded of his life, his life
it was dark that night, but she could still see his eyes
shining upon her, the stars in the sky
and it was so bright, giving life to the sky
reminding her lover, of all the color in his life, his life
can you come back down
you two can ride your bikes
and dance, and laugh, and forget about such thing as time
can you come back down
you two can have the nights
and dance, and laugh, and forget about such thing as time
can you come back down
and bring her back a smile
and take her with you
at least I think that's what
she'd like .."

Of ReSpect

It's like going to your window as a child, and looking out you see an unfathomable black sky pinned without wrinkle to some flat surface behind it. There in the perfect dark you see the night calmly let through its first star. And as you look up your not sure what it is about the scene that makes it so... well now you can't even find the words to describe it, probably because your not even old enough to get a handle on the feelings your even feeling. Is it the single light on a backdrop of all black? Is it the innocence of youth that can appreciate real beauty before growing up and being thrown into public school cliches and overcome by any new, popular shiny toy? Is it the simplicity of the picture unlike that of life, where some don't even know their father's name? Well, whatever it is, somehow you know, while in that instant, that this is the appropriate time to make a wish.
That is what it was like seeing Miss Regina Spektor. It was a concert sure, there was the wild cheering leading to the encore, the opening band repeatedly thanking her, the spot lights who's beams pierced the fog machines' smoke filling the great space above, the "Have my babies!" guy(s), and the general theatrical feel that comes with all of it. But what made the show for me, was that I realized just how much her music stood by itself. At one point I could just close my eyes pray and wish that she was a toy monkey I could just let play for hours or days on end without the pause of resetting the stylus on the record player. Some bands put on elaborate shows and dance around and have the music blasting, the lights blinding, and everyone is just there to have a good time- however you interpret that. But I felt like Regina didn't need to do all that, and it wasn't in her personality to. Instead she just played her songs like she had just come upon them on the spot, free and fun. At times the instruments would clam down, and it was just her and the 20+ speakers in the auditorium reminding me that classical real music can still exist in the 21st century of synthesizers and Auto-Tune. And better yet it feels like every other lyric becomes completely personal for the listener, whether it be, "Your using your headphones to drown out your mind" or "He stumbled into fate and thought, 'God this is all there is'", somehow they just connect to you, to a memory, to a feeling, to a wish. There unique, clever, and very lovable and as such become very distinct and different from the mainstream, which, combined with her folk-jazz-Dance Anthem of the 80's shoots her music right into your heart. The more you know of her, the more you need.

"It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
Til it was a battle cry

I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before

All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye

You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye..

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
Til they're before your eyes

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye.."

Of Silence Pt. 2

"Listen to me," said the Demon,
as he put his hand upon my head.
"I'll tell you of a dreary region,
Where never had I Silence met.

"The river forever swift and cunning
Weaves and cuts between the stones
Glistening and sings continuously
Soft, dangerous songs and new unknowns.

"In tumult and convulsive strength
It's saffron sickly hue bares on
It flows onward to the sea at length
Yet palpitates as time is long.

"The sun gazes a red, ghastly stare
Rebuking the river's murmured prose,
And casting from its red eye a glare
That put the trees in fiery clothes

"Ah, the trees in giant counsel moan,
Their might have gained by unknown age,
Gently yet pow'rfully sway to and fro
Passing their secrets to neighboring sage.

"And from their summits, one by one,
Drop everlasting drops of dew
Being called down of Fate to become
Strange poisonous flowers at their roots.

"And the wind blew the clouds westward
Both with endless ways, arcanely deep,
And so I lay, being seen and heard,
Exposed to elements who where exposed to me.

"All at once the moon arose in crimson
Above the mist it quickly crept
I'll tell you of a dreary region,
Where never had I Silence met.

"And behold I saw on opposite shore
A great rock set since moments begun
Who had seen every sort of friend and foe,
And by virtue of presence was Deity's son.

"And on the rock I saw a shadowed man
Whose face was the only determined trait,
And I hid myself 'neath the shrubs and sand
As to observe the soul and know his state.

"His mind, lofty with thought, was made known
To me as I studied with what stature he stood.
On his cheeks I saw the fables of sorrow,
A disgust with mankind, in long solitude.

"His eyes where weary but steadfastly set,
His brow bones proved his spirit was sure,
The strong will from his expression was easily read,
Yet his child-like features began to quickly mature.

"For there on the rock beginning to form
Ancient symbols and lines I scarce can recite
As I peered and deciphered my spirit was torn,
DESOLATION was written by omniscient knives.

"At that same moment the river rose
Thrashing as its command was obeyed,
It threw angered white foamy throws
As it tossed its onslaught without restraint.

"The trees shrieked with mass terror,
The winds tore them hither in disdain
The clouds inhaled and breathed out thunder;
Sent lighting slashing through the haze.

"Sleet razor blades sent from heavens ghost,
Bore in precision on the now seated man,
His hands held his face, his body exposed,
He trembled as Judgment grew ever exact.

"And when the moon had come to take
It's climax atop the spiteful sky
The steadfast man was fully traced
And I became astonished by the sight.

"For naked and malnourished he sat,
Thin and sickly and of poor countenance,
A cripple! Born in the gutters as rats
I hardly believed he withstood the advance!

"And the winds fiercely fought for control
To gain an advantage on the now seated man,
His hands held his face, his body exposed,
He trembled as Judgment grew ever exact.

"But eyes of the man, as I had seen before,
Remained unmoved by circumstance.
Yea, but at this time he raised his voice
And called that mercy might come to past.

"And there on the rock beginning to form
Ancient symbols in heightened anger bled bright
As I peered and deciphered my spirit was torn,
For SILENCE was written by omniscient knives.

"And in almost in a noise of its own
Across the sky fled Silence's ghost,
He hushed the winds and laying hold,
Stiffened the trees, their secrets lost.

"The waters calmed, nay, died within
The sleet ceased and the sky warned,
When fell upon them Silence's grin,
So thunder and lighting no longer warred.

"A silence greater than that before time
Settled on every atom around the man,
And he sprang to his feet in great divide,
Turning his ear to heaven, feeling damned.

"Now here he cried out to the Divine
Such a weeping was never seen or heard,
But the earth, bound as Silence binds,
Replied not the slightest a whisper.

"And the man, who had for long endured
Fire and rain and in meekness prevailed,
Could not hold the depth Silence procured,
As it sank deeper than what is naturally felt.

"And the man rose and fled the sight,
Renting his clothes as he ran in vain,
Screaming wild things I shouldn't write,
I have never yet to see him again.

And the Demon fell back in his tomb
Laughing as he entered the musky cavity
But I could not laugh this time with him
And he cursed me for it, as I took my leave.

Inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's "Silence: A Fable"

Of Silence Pt. 1

When I go about my busy day each routine holds in store,
A motion or a memory because of you only i know,
Half the music and the movies that I've come to love,
Echo your presence and remind me of all I've given up.
My passions and pursuits have vanished from my heart,
And although I hold no appetite, dear Silence is the worst part.
I wonder if you spend your time the same way I spend mine,
For the same Seattle cloud and rain pour out from on high,
They pass above us both but we walk or separate ways,
I, fumbling along most the time, whispering your name.
I think of sending something sweet twenty times a day,
But then I feel so foolish I pretend the feelings never came.
I'm covering my crippled tracks you'll probably never see,
Because Silence is unbearable, who's knife is in his following.
See, with Silence I am never sure who is whispering,
The figures in the darkness never come to forms complete,
But separately, like creature teeth, keep me from my sleep.
So I toss and turn and fight my pillow and tare apart my sheets
Because I think he waits for me, like wolves dressed up as sheep.
Then Silence moves in suddenly, as I implore the source
From which a comforting sound can kill Silence's sword,
But hour after hour Silence presses deeper in,
Muttering his age old lies which captured greater men,
And so my empty stomach, having no substance left to give,
Now lets my strength grow thin, and the silence finally wins.

Of Spiritual Warfare

Nervous neurons are stampeding
through the bliss that some call night,
My temples damp and screaming
beg me stop and make things right,
My hands they shake with poison,
my fingers war among themselves,
Each desiring their separate sins
that I work overtime to quell.
But like the billows of the ocean
against the jagged shore,
I'm somehow caught between the lens
and the thousand word report.
Yes, this epic endless energy
receives me no reward,
So I lunge into the empty air,
another line of lore,
Another line of conjured rubbish
that I might give myself some faith,
But after all when added up it's
finite verse infinite ways.
My billowing against the coast
will only find its peace,
If God, removes the Ancient host
or bids the winds to cease.
A faithful foll'wer is the bar,
that has been set for me to gain,
I can't expect on getting far,
save this muddy puddle sees some rain.