Thoughts and Reflections

I've drank our poison
the stuff I know I shoulda steered clear of
It went down easy, and it tasted pretty nice
Or at least that's what I told myself

It's taken oh so long to rid myself of you
And even now I look around and see your face
It's in strangers, in my dreams, even in objects

Understand, it isn't obsession. I don't care any longer
It's just a part of the human mind and body
When you touch a flame, you get burned

Games, I think, were all they came out to be
I've heard it said it isn't whether you win or lose --
But we both played our hardest, and no one claimed victory
So does that axiom still apply here?

The senses now are warped and tourmented.
In many cases, I've tournicated them so they're ghostly pale
I find them still where I left them near death
Remarkably, they never seem to die.
They just become so weak that they're useless

Trust. Incredible trust and faith is more then small
There is no silver lining, no light at the end
For the lining, the light, is here, now, and penetrating.
The light is beckoning for my surrender.

Part I. The Fog

Then the fog rolls in, covering all
Armor seems to rust, swords seem to dull
The men and their horses grow weary

Fight the good fight
That's what I yell at them
Each time I say it, I scream
fight, fight, fight!
But my voice grows raspy and quiet
Sandpaper across old and pitted wood

In desperation I fall to my knees and weep
I cower, waiting for whoever sent the fog
Surely a foe so powerful will come to strike

But inside, in another place deep -
I know he won't. For he never has
It is his game to torment me with fog
A fog that should surely bring attack
but instead only brings uncertainty,
melancholy, and despair

Part II. The Blade

I spin and leap as a dancer, full of grace
Yet deadly as a viper, my rage, my venom

Besotted with destruction, Intent on victory
My emotions, my attack, my parry, my movement
They begin to breath, their heart beat
They become an entity all their own

Then my eyes see the truth
This image of life and vigor and power
The good it does is nothing but an illusion
A sword is certainly worthless against the fog

At last I am again who I am
A boy with a blade, dilusions of grandeur
Flailing about in the misty lonliness
While his men stare at him with hollow eyes
Their faces displaying betrayal and disregard

Part III. The Sunlight

At long last their leader, the one they have trusted
The one who they have followed and sworn fealty to
Bends his knee and looks to the sky
Tears stream down his dirty cheeks and fall, crystalline
Raising his hands, he cries
Abba, Father

Sunlight breaks, washing out the fog, washing out their souls

Crestfallen, but radiant, he bows his head and weeps
tears that never touch the filthy ground
Tears that fall up, a tribute

Read between the lines, see my eyes
They are, as they say, a window
What praytell, my dear, does it mean
when those windows are black,
as though they have been burned
from the inside?

I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
And in the room, locked up inside me,
Cut up magazines remind me..
I sit and wait alone in my room

And in my room against the wall
There is a picture very small
A photograph I took some years ago
It shows a picture of the room I know
I sit and wait alone in my room

The walls are white and in the night
the room is lit by electric light

I stand alone and watch the clock
I only wait for it to stop
The doors are shut, and all the windows lock
The only sound is from the clock
I sit and wait alone in my room.

The walls are white and in the night
the room is lit by electric light
from "In My Room" by Yazoo (known more commonly as Yaz)

"Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest,
laughin' back and forth at what the other one has to say.
Reminiscin' this and that and havin' such a good time,
Oo-de-lolly, Oo-de-lolly, golly what a day.

Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water,
they were drinkin' they just guzzled it down.
Never dreamin' that a schemin' sheriff and his possy
was a watchin' them and gatherin' around..
Robin Hood and Little John running through the forest
Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees and tryin' to get away,
comtemplatin' nothing but esccaping, finally making it,
Oo-de-lolly, Oo-de-lolly, golly what a day.

I wanna do the right thing.
I wanna be the sure shot.
I wanna have my mind straight.
I wanna have my point got.
I wanna be a good man.
I wanna have my act down.
I wanna be the future.
And I wanna be right now.

I wanna see a life change.
I wanna see a new man.
I wanna fight the good fight.
I wanna take the right stand.
I wanna be like Jesus.
I wanna pour my heart out.
I wanna pick my cross up.
I wanna hear the mob shout.

-- O.C. Supertones, Sure Shot

Some things can happen in your life that can set you up for a fall. You can be hurt in such a way that you form a distrust of love that you aren't even aware of. This distrust grows and finally blooms into a terrible flower when just the right shade of darkness envelopes it.
This truth cuts me nearly to the bone.

Dancing above the lilly pads, you're the firefly in the sky,
Alight on my shoulder, pixie, and whisper what you seek.

"i wish that i could say i am a perfect man
i wish sometimes that i would not be who i am
one day i decided i would think on this,
not knowing if faith and pain could co-exist:

could i ever on my own conceive
of someone i did not know, but i need?
i must be made to be at peace and communion
'cause somehow i am full aware that i've fallen

i find through every ounce of pain i feel
that my mind cannot deny that God is real

the inconsistency of what i say i should be
compared to what i am in actuallity
leaves me in conclusion that i know the way
though i am unable to always obey

nothing in this world has satisfied
my soul's hunger for a deeper life
the weight of my misdeeds were crushing, blinding me
i still live with pain inside but now i see

the peices of my life are scattered on the floor
i stared at them till i could take no more

i do not deserve to be set free
forgiveness is what i despereately need
if it wasn't for the perfect blood was shed
would i not be dead inside but i live instead

i know my faith's still here
believe through all my tears

--Grammatrain, Pain.

"Once divided, nothing left to subtract.
Some words when spoken can't be taken back.
Walks on his own with thoughts he can't help thinking.
Future's above, but in the past he's slow and sinkin'.
Caught a bolt of lightning, cursed the day he let it go..
Nothingman, Nothingman. Isn't it something, Nothingman?
She once believed in every story he had to tell.
One day she stiffened, took the other side.
Empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell.
One just escapes; One's left inside the well.
And He Who Forgets will be destined to remember."
--Nothingman, Pearl Jam

More serious then serious.
Pride beyond pride.
As I sit and watch myself, I realize I may very well be doing the thing that I promised myself I would not do.
I'm forced to evaluate two things, then. First, am I really betraying myself?
Second, Does it matter?
There are so many things to consider.

We believe in Marxfreudanddarwin.
We believe everything is OK
as long as you don't hurt anyone,
to the best of your definition of hurt,
and to the best of your knowledge.

We believe in sex before, during, and
after marriage.
We believe in the therapy of sin.
We believe that adultery is fun.
We believe that sodomy's OK.
We believe that taboos are taboo.

We believe that everything's getting better
despite evidence to the contrary.
The evidence must be investigated
And you can prove anything with evidence.

We believe there's something in horoscopes,
UFO's and bent spoons;
Jesus was a good man just like Buddha,
Mohammed, and ourselves.
He was a good moral teacher although we think
His good morals were bad.

We believe that all religions are basically the same--
at least the one that we read was.
They all believe in love and goodness.
They only differ on matters of creation,
sin, heaven, hell, God, and salvation.

We believe that after death comes the Nothing.
Because when you ask the dead what happens
they say nothing.
If death is not the end, if the dead have lied, then it's
compulsory heaven for all
excepting perhaps
Hitler, Stalin, and Genghis Khan.

We believe in Masters and Johnson.
What's selected is average.
What's average is normal.
What's normal is good.

We believe in total disarmament.
We believe there are direct links between warfare and
bloodshed.
Americans should beat their guns into tractors
and the Russians would be sure to follow.

We believe that man is essentially good.
It's only his behavior that lets him down.
This is the fault of society.
Society is the fault of conditions.
Conditions are the fault of society.

We believe that each man must find the truth that
is right for him.
Reality will adapt accordingly.
The universe will readjust.
History will alter.
We believe that there is no absolute truth
excepting the truth
that there is not absolute truth.

We believe in the rejection of creeds,
and the flowering of individual thought.
--Creed, by Steve Turner

If chance be
the Father of all flesh,
disaster is his rainbow in the sky,
and when you hear

State of Emergency!
Sniper Kills Ten!
Troops on Rampage!
Whites go Looting!
Bomb Blasts School!

It is but the sound of man
worshipping his maker.
--Chance, a postscript to Creed, by Steve Turner