It is with such importance that...

It is with such importance that when you become who
      you've always wanted to be
              - or perhaps who you had never imagined you
                          could be -
    that you never cease to be who you have always been.

For by whose strength and determination did you get there,
      but by the strength of the person you were when you were
          not who you wanted to be?

But forget not also those others by and through whom
      you were empowered to achieve any greatness,
          lest pride be your downfall.

For it is in humility that your creative flow will stay strong
      and by which you will retain those friendships from which
    you found your strength.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

It was her song that moved the world...

It was her song that moved the world...
          she who felt the song in her breast
              before she knew it in her head...
      who could tell you the meaning of
              the flowing melodies and the stories they told
          before she could tell you the words.

But when those words came,
          and oh did they come,
      it was then that they could not chance to ignore it.

A song whose nature was better expressed
          than the love of any poet's heart.
      - whose altogether beauty could not be recreated by any other.

A song that imitated none other and would forever be imitated by all.

But she saw not the song for its fame, originality, or genius,
          but for the story it told, complete and unending.

It was then that the world knew love like never before...
      ...that they wept with such a passion as ever before.

But she took no reward...
      As a messenger is only that, she could put no price on
          giving them a song that needed but to be given.

And it was given... and they were moved...
            and thus the song was forever set free...
      right where it should be...
          and we wept for her and her beautiful song
      which now belonged to the world.
          For nothing so beautiful could ever belong to one
    without belonging to every one.

  And she knew that even before it began, deep within her soul,
        and before the words formed in her head...

      She gave it to the world, and when you hear it,
          you will know why they wept,
              and you will see why she set it free....
      you will be moved...
              and then you shall weep as never before.
      and the song will be free...
          right where it should be...
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Just One Day

Oh to find a place free from interruption.
      To find the time to listen to all the music in the world.
  To be able to appreciate life by stepping back and watching it happen.
          Such a day would be wonderfully spent.

Just to forget that anything needs to be done
      - to realize that nothing needs to be done for tomorrow
          to become tomorrow.

One day is what I ask for.
          One day without worries, limits, or requirements
        - all so that from that day forth I could appreciate this
      insignificant but most fantastic life.

And they would say that that was the day from which he
                                                             never recovered -
      - from that day forth, the serenity never left his face.
    He was able to see past the troubles of a day
            and straight through to the joys of life, love, & happiness.

      The world is what you make of it.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Thoughts of Greenwich

I feel like Bob Dylan this week...
                - maybe I should move and perform
                  in Greenwich Village.
        People would really think me a liberal then.

    What of it?
          Though I am not, I find enough of the tenets
              of their party perfectly reasonable.

    Why shouldn't the poor be helped?
          Why shouldn't trees be conserved?

Imagine the stories found in one person's life
      ...is not a tree's story ten times longer?

    Yet contrarily, I find many conservative beliefs equally reasonable.
          - for instance, if a government gave a person everything he
              needed to survive, would he ever become anything?

Is it not through hardships, hunger, and perseverance that
        a person's real beauty grow?

But were the slums not founded first by a community's
      purposeful ignorance of its needy & poor?

Yet the government seeks but to give a man a fish...
      and the man might even know that if he were to learn to fish,
          he might find himself with far less free time than he
      feels comfortable with.

The answer lies not in any one party... but in the belief and desire
          to do right.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Jack Johnson

"With all the people in the street walking fast as their feet can
            take them... I just roll through town."
                                                              - Jack Johnson
                                                                    Breakdown

        'nuff said
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

The Next Page

As it is with a book filled with blank pages - always
      having the option and ability to start fresh with
          but a turn of a page -
    so should it be with life.

    Not to forget the persons and actions of one's past, but
        to continue moving forward, without regret.

      What is, is.
          What is done, is done.

    Don't regret it -
          learn from it, grow from it -
      but don't regret it
              - nor forget it.

And so the next page is always empty.
          Change is available for anybody willing to accept it.
    And every decision leads to the filling of the next page
          and the sole control is in the hand of those who
              would decide - or not decide.

"If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice."
                                                            - Rush

Yet when one firmly grips the pen to write the story about
      tomorrow, then he will see its realization, and its
          rewards.

The page will always change...
          What would you have it say?
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Something to ponder...

"I seem to find the happiness I seek
          when we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek."
                                              - Irving Berlin

                  - And such is the power of the imagination,
                            as I cannot dance...
                    but how I wish I could.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Boundaries, Beliefs, and Barbed Wire Fences

Is it not the best painting when the brush is left unrestrained?
      If so a stroke must be forced, will it not then lack
            in its creative nature?

While a painting might rigidly show the true beauty of nature,
      should not the choice remain with the brush?
    Such a brush should be free to paint within or without
          any lines that may be set by any appreciating or unappreciating
              public.

In this way then, one should not be scorned for painting
      a portrait entirely guided by the standards of
          acceptance, should such a standard reside in the heart
of the painter.

So then should one's song not be measured by meter
      or rhyme, but by trueness to his or her own heart.
Should his "brush" be free and unrelenting
      or rigid, staccato, and without vibrato?

How can one - can ANY one say that a
      musician can never step past any boundary, belief,
      or barbed wire fence for the sake of his music?

Yet also how can an artist be berated for following form of
        her fellow artists, if it is what is in her heart?

So I say then that any song of true consequence to its
      performer shall retain my respect, whether or not it
          has lit pleasantly upon my ear.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Patience, though seeming to be a frightful foe...

Patience, though seeming to be a frightful foe,
              is yet a forthright friend -
      its faithful alliance only showing itself
            after it has been furtively accepted.

But to mix and confuse the nature of apprehensiveness
        with that of patience
would be as to mix and confuse the nature of stupidity
        with that of courage.

For it is without courage that the ignorant seals his fate,
          as the apprehensive will seal their own.
      But the bold yet patient man will find his reward
        in any such endeavor.

But a singular, slight surprise may reveal the ignorance
    of the fool,
          Yet unleash the uninhibited courage of the bold & patient man.

And as a fiery furnace consumes its fuel, so is the
      apprehensive man consumed by his fear.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Feelings manic, fear oceanic...

Feelings manic, fear oceanic...
                              - Panic.
          Something wrong.  Something won?
                    Slightly undone.

And slightly I'm worrying, hurrying
                mentally scurrying.
          but know not to where...
                nor why it should be anywhere...

But here I am.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

To fancy one's self a musician...

On the turntable: R.E.M. - "Out of Time"

1991 Release - Warner Bros. - LABEL #R124762 (BMG Direct Marketing Edition)

To fancy one's self a musician
      is but to claim a mastery over all human emotion.
   For what is music without love and laughter,
                                                              sorrow and sadness?

Such things result in a creativity that cannot through purpose
      be built,
   yet are accidents by which the loved and hurt find themselves
        led.

But to be found creative cannot be his goal that writes.
For such a shallow goal can but lead only to an equally shallow
      ballad.
For it is not through the clever use of grammar that a lyricist
      be made, but the grammar is but a tool for which his
   emotions should set themselves free.
          At such a time would they spread as a fire through any
      great multitude that would chance to hear it.
                                - end -

        - February 18, 2006

Heretofore such a courage has not been found within myself,
      though it was not through my own efforts, but with
      the help of such a courage of another.

For as one's courage strengthens the one to whom it belongs,
          so can it strengthen another - or many others.
              A great and contagious thing is it that
   can raise the meek into greatness...
              to show them the boundless extent
      of possibility available to all at once or any
        solemn one, should he or she so choose to take it.

Such an amazing time is it when one formerly bereft
      discovers that such strict and taut bands as would
       be enforced by a thought need but one other thought
    to be extinguished -
              - having been found wanting.

But to want such things of greatness, which might
      seemingly be far too impossible to obtain, is yet a
    fantastic start in obtaining them.

So then shudder not thusly under the pressures and guiles of a logical,
      reasoning world,
          lest you find yourself no further than when you began,
      save for the lines and signs of age and wear.

No, but this one will not end in such a place except
      that one which today can only be found in its dreams.
                                - end -

        - February 17, 2006

Through the painful and pleasant experiences of this life,
      have I learned but one thing which is important above
          most others, when held in regard to love.
      That the only thing more prohibitive and crippling
          than regret, is the fear of regret.

Such a fear has been a plague I've known for far too long.
Such a fear has been the culprit to keep an unhappy
      cloud over this man's heart, destined to be left wanting,
          should such a fear not be overcome.

For is it not said that fortune favours the bold?
        But this man's fortune will not be found in a chest
    of gold, but in the love of another, and others still.
So then lies the true wisdom of the fool who is in love,
        for he would sacrifice everything for but a chance to
  find such a love, with no guarantee of success.

    Be that fool then, I say.  Delay not, for it is such
a delay that breeds that despicable regret which might
        keep an unhappy cloud forever in its place over my lonely heart.
                                - end -

        - February 17, 2006

NOTE TO SELF:

IF YOU READ YOUR OWN WORK, YOU WON'T LIKE IT!!

To love and to have lost...

Oh that I could see her face, how happy I might be!
      To see her laugh might warrant this fool to act as
          such, to encourage such an outburst.

But to keep this mind from doubting must be this fool's unending
      goal, for if this heart is wounded, does it not
          still beat?  Can it not rise again?  Must it always
   keep safe or should it be tempted to grow stronger?

          And shouldn't it?  Is not the most beautiful
part of a fool's heart its resilience?  Is that
not from where its strength hails?

Oh but to love and to have lost!
          I welcome thee, should the chance but
to love be a condition, for a life without love
      IS but lost.
                                - end -

        - February 17, 2006

There, as though on a summer's day...

There, as though on a summer's day, might I
    find such a pleasant accompaniment.
        - As though the birds might opt to join me
    in silent contemplation, and but understand and
        grow closer to me in such silence.

When was it said that only through open dialogue
    can two persons grow closer? Do not a father and
  son appreciate the company of the other, though silent?

Yet a conversation is not so over-rated, and a laugh -
    even but a smile - so unpleasant.  All these things
are such that lovers would pursue!

But still, to be near another, though without a
    spoken word, perchance even a knowing look,
  can by time form a bond that is stronger still.

At a time that such a love is known to one another
    a thing need not be said or expressed to be understood.

Such is a trait a man might have learned from a father,
    that love can be given and accepted and thusly understood to be so.

So would be a good day spent to lie swinging on a porch
    with one's loved, unspeaking, yet knowing that
love attends to them, that they should never fear its absence.
        Was it but one in love who wrote of silence as golden?
                                - end -

        - February 17, 2006

That logical, yet largely-unbelieving mind

On the turntable: Louis Armstrong - "The Best of Louis Armstrong"

November, 1957 Release - Audio Fidelity - AFLP 2132 Canadian Release

So then here and now
   - as I sit ponderously -
       I yet have troubles in
  evading these burdensome counter-questions...
      those of a logical, yet largely unbelieving mind.

Was it, is it, could it have been?
     And thusly, was I but mistaken - as it might seem
        is the destiny and duly-noted path this logical,
            yet largely unbelieving mind has set itself up against.

Sadly stated, if but an heart could
    land the steps and boldly face those resulting consequences,
  would not the enemy of its destiny yield not its selfish goals?
      That logical and masterfully self-doubting mind?

But if only unreproved, would not that heart
    find travels anew and behold itself in such a manner
        as, in its once short-lived youth, it had so perceived?

Whereas any great multitude might so resurrect itself -
    verily through such a landing of steps and to which
        consequences might therefore result might be boldly
      faced - against so great a leader who may choose
   against their will such a selfish destiny,
     so then an heart can wield all power against
  such a logical, yet largely unbelieving mind -
    that which beholds itself a wise and magnanimous leader,
       and would attest its apprehensive nature - those same
          selfish goals - to the protection of a child.

How then could one protest such an one?
        Who could be that one which would tell it
      that such a selfish love was this could but extinguish
   the life of such an important child?

It seems to be so that such a fate was the one
     for a so protected and elected soldier - once
a prisoner oversea, who yet came home to be moreso
   a prisoner still, but to the one whom gave
       him the breath with which he might protest,
   and therefore could not. Notwithstanding that
mother's love, it was one who loved the soldier
   as a fellow, who shared that prison oversea,
  who but extinguished the lives of that warden and her prisoner
                                                                  - her progeny.

Such would be the fate of an heart whose protective,
     apprehensive, and worrisome mind was to whisper selfish
  deceit into that heart's ear. Such deception, if it
   but could protect it from pain, loss, and sorrow could
thusly not help but to doubly protect it from love,
    which would therefore close the door to friendship,
        and thusly life.

Wherefore then does the logical mind persist?
        Canst it not comprehend the consequences of its own decision?
            Its own logic should show it thus!

But, behold... It does!

       These things it knows and these things it welcomes.
   Such is the price to pay for freedom from pain, loss,
        and sorrow - and thusly revealed is its selfish nature...
that logical, and largely self-deceiving mind.
                                - end -

        - February 17, 2006