In Vanity

Nearly an hour has passed since
I took this pen
and this paper.


The man told the world, "If you want to be a writer..."
_________________


Greatness relies on what?
I don't know. I'll let you know when I do.
No - I'll already be known to you by then.


Not in vanity, but in desperation.


That's the vanity - to be eternal in a lonely, unloving Universe (the clouds that blow down...)


Infinite themes to tie together that one man, or billions,
as I now see, can relate them all.


Oppressed or repressed? The people do it to themselves.
Without a unified theme or mindless pride,
the peoples' masses don't need to be surpressed.
The fear isn't of suppression, it's of unity and compromise.
That their love won't be of all.


Now - the hour of dawn.
Now or never, with not enough faith?
Never.


The fields are so dry;
the air is so dry;
the hills are so dry,
that life may never grow.


The clouds that blow down from the mountain,
bring neither rain nor snow.
Going down into a never ending Fall.
It doesn't snow, but it's not quite warm .

Power Deux

Don't have enough words to throw at this one.
Only so many to say in a day.


But look around!
    These people around me,
    they heard the best today!


The power to change their minds
has the power to break the walls.
And what lies behind
is why we heed the calls.
    Of life, of love.
    They said that love could heal us all.
        Of pain, of hate,
        staggered and stacked,
        into a wall.
Around our hearts and minds,
around the joys surrounding us
of all time.


So follow me, dead brothers.
They said that love could heal us.
That love could heal us all...


So follow me - the words weren't really mine.
I won't take the credit.
But I hope that love could heal us all.
That love could heal us all...


But I won't put faith in it.

Quickshort

Quick, short; to the point.
There's only a minute to go
and not even a way to impart
to you what I mean.


So enjoy your night,
hungry and thirsty as you may be.
I can't quench you.


Keep looking - I can't feed you.
You've only got a minute; surprised I said this much.
Keep looking - I'm hungry, too.


Welcome back.
Did you find what you needed?
What you wanted?
Did you enjoy your travels?


I'd love to let you in.
Right, I found it.
I'm full - swollen to the brim.


So enjoy your night,
as hungry and thirsty as you may be.
I will not quench you.


Keep looking - I won't feed you.
You've had your minute.
No more; enough to share.


Keep looking.

To Have Faith

I can't seem to get beyond the idea,

to believe in a God, not just the one

of the world, but a sense of Universe.

It's not even of logic of a puzzle.

A God; a Spirit.

Just to feel Him, in the spirit with my soul, if there is even.

Live like there's any hope to have an eternal legacy;

never forgotten.

A witness of being.

Faithless, you might call me.

To be faithless, there must first be something,

in which with my soul to believe.

He tells me to have blind faith.

I'd love to, sorry.

It's not that I don't want to.

I just don't.

To have faith, there first must be something in which to believe.

__________

It wasn't a resentment, logic bomb or laziness that traces my absence; 

it just wasn't - that's my point.

Babysitting Hamid

There's a place in a dream
where everything moves so slow that
you'd think it were made of glass.


I've seen it so many times before,
so I don't know why you'd all sit and stop
to see a place in a dream so slow.


So slow.
So slow.

...


Everything, made of glass.
Everything is so slow you'd think it were made of glass.


It lowers voltage to where you don't move, for hours.
Not a word or glance can make it our from your mind
to your body, which has shut down to time. Grace.


You move so slowly, I'd think you were made of glass.
So I'll be careful with my freedom, to move about.
I'll try'n not shatter you.
Not even your spirit can move away, should I break you, glass girl.