Muse

I stare into the abyss, the limitless depth of the blank page
I close my eyes, dream of nothing…open them again in the murky fog of frustration
I pick up the pen; a magician’s wand, a talisman against unseen evils, a mighty sword
But the magic has failed me, the demons lurk elsewhere, the metal rusty and useless

I replace the cork in the bottle, extinguish the flame, and leave the table
The solitary piece of paper remains, centered, ready, mocking me, taunting me
I stare at the starless midnight sky, marred by sullen clouds of no shape or form
Formless, like my paper; naked, vulnerable, hateful and severe

Lying on the lumpy cot, I pull the patchwork blanket over my threadbare nightshirt
Sleep teases me when I hear a rustle on the table, the unmistakable sound of a muse
Quietly and eagerly I rise, invigorated for the chase, anxious to catch a glimpse,
A momentary peek at the process of the assembly of life on the page


And all I see is a frail old man, replacing the cork, extinguishing the flame…

Yulunga (spirit dance)

Surrounded by the rhythm
pouring out of their souls
the spirits moved with a grace
that we will never know

until our bodies fade...

A shadow of a whisper

The glow of sunset on a summer day,
Fading into the limitless darkness

The warmth of a lover’s pillow,
After they get out of bed

The texture of our favorite wine,
Shared at dinner and candlelight

The scent of a jasmine candle,
Seconds before blowing it out

The notes of a favorite song,
Fading as sleep prevails

A shadow of a whisper
Of the words “I love you”

33

Intense preparation and concentration
You never left anything to chance
Unrivaled perfection and superstition
In terms of hockey excellence

Steady, agile, mobile and quick
Graceful movements performed with ease
Utilizing blocker, pads and of course, the stick
And the famous “statue of liberty”

Shutting down the opponents
And shutting out their dreams
You’re a living legend
Borne from two different teams

Raising the bar with stellar play
Crushing the records of past heroes
You definitely played your own way
As anyone who watched you knows

Now the spotlight has inevitably shifted
And your skates are high on the shelf
The game plays on until the grail is lifted
The one you hoisted four times yourself

Ceremonial Mask

Ceremonial Mask
Circa 2800
“What’s that?” The boy pointed toward a dimly lit display case. The father took the boy’s hand and led him to the case.
“Let’s find out,” he smiled weakly, “then we have to go, okay?”
He hated these museums. He tried to hide his disdain. Who cared about these relics? Well, his son did, for one. The kid couldn’t get enough of them. And the endless questions he would ask. There would be no peace tonight.
“Wow, look at this mask. It looks really fancy and scary at the same time.” The father stared at it. It looked pitiful with it’s rough feathers and shoddy painting. His robots could do a better job.
“Ceremonial mask, circa 2800. Dad, what does circa mean?”
“Uh, what? Oh. That means that it uh, circled the planet on display at least 2800 times.”
The boy wrinkled his nose. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, why would I make that up?’
“Because you make things up when you don’t know what it means. You do that a lot.”
“No I don’t!”
“Yes, you do.” He turned back to the display. “I think this mask is beautiful. I’ll bet it’s really old. What’s it made out of?”
Hi father shrugged.
“I’ll bet ‘circa’ has to do with the time frame that the mask was used.”The father grunted, “Maybe” Angry at his son’s remarks, he stood powerless. The boy was right. The boy was always right. He’s smarter than I am. And I’m smart!
“You’re right, I don’t know what that means I don’t know what it’s made out of either. Maybe it’s a plastic biopolymer resin or a mass produced lightweight metal or something.”
"It’s very rough and ….dad, what does wood look like?”
“Wood?”
“You’ve never actually seen wood, have you?” The boy looked shocked.
“Sure, of course I….no, no I haven’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before. Wait a minute…Trees, that’s where wood came from, trees. I have seen images of trees.” He beamed at his son, proud of himself.
“I know it came from trees, dad. What kind of tree did that wood come from?”
“What kind? Well, ah…You ask too many questions,” his father said irritated. “Always asking about this and about that? Why do you care so much about this stuff? "
The boy looked up and asked “Why don’t you care?”
“Because it’s old, it’s dead and it doesn’t matter anymore. I worry about today and tomorrow, not yesterday.” The man’s head started to ache.
“If you don’t learn from yesterday, you’ll make the same mistakes tomorrow…and the next day…and so forth.”
“What is this, philosophy??? Soon you’ll want to learn about religion! All these ancient ways don’t amount to anything now. I don’t have to remember yesterday because I don’t make mistakes!” What an incredulous child!
“That’s right, the robots and cyborgs do all the work.”
“Look, I make sure they’re working and they do their jobs young man. Those robots do what I say. They are real and important, not this...junk.”
“What happens when they are able to take care of themselves? What will you do then?”
The question nearly floored the man. “That’s unheard of!!! Robots taking care of themselves! It’s not like they’re …”
He stopped. He was going to say “smart”, but couldn’t. They were smart, smarter than him, and maybe smarter than his boy. Artificial intelligence exceeded natural intelligence. He never thought about it before. He always assumed he was in control because they never stopped or took a break, and he stood at the helm, watching. He monitored their levels and voltage, recharging and adjusting as necessary. What if they learned to do that? What if they already did do that, but still needed people just in case?
“Dad, Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine. You ready to go?”
“Not yet. I want to look at this mask some more.”
His father nodded, blinded by the realization that he didn’t have the control he thought he had. I’m in charge of them, I can shut down the plant anytime I want! Can’t I? He wasn’t so sure, though. Would they try to stop him? Could they? Would they know what was going on? Several of the robots were wired into the main operating system. They programmed updates into the operating system. Of course they would know what was going on!
“Dad, what was earth like before all the robots and cyborgs?”
“I don’t know. I guess it was uncivilized, people living in the dirt, killing each other for food, wearing masks like this one. Religions killed one another in the name of their god’s. Eventually, the governments faded, religions died, and technology ruled. Just like today. That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”
“You don’t really know for sure, do you?
“No, I don’t really know. Who really knows for sure? Maybe the person that made this mask knows, but where is he now? You make it sound like I don’t know anything. Well, since you’re smarter then I am will you stop asking all these questions? Let’s get out of here!”
As they walked out, the boy asked “Dad, if I stop asking questions, how will you ever learn?”

Enveloped

The future

When I’m little…give me love
When I’m learning…give me answers
When I’m weak…give me strength
When I’m sick…give me care
When I’m lonely…give me company
When I’m thirsty…give me liquid
When I’m tired…give me rest
When I’m sad…give me happiness
When I’m hungry…give me food
When I’m broke…give me cash
When I’m stuck…give me a hand
When I’m busy…give me space
When I lie…give me an alibi

When I want…give

Because I’m entitled

No, I haven’t earned anything yet,
but you owe me, the world owes me, for debts unpaid
Give me the respect I deserve, even though I’m just a punk
I don’t got to earn nothing, stupid, this gun is all I need
So gimme, what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine
and whatever I want is mine, even if you worked hard
I’ll take the easy way, I ain’t no fool
I’m a powerful mofo, me and my piece, no, not peace
I didn’t ask to be born, so I ain’t gotta earn nothing
Just gimme

Internal revolution

The revolution is calling, hear the leaders scream
Counter-revolution beckons, on the fashion scene

Politicians on the runway
Models in the White House
The world is upside down
Life is inside out

The revolution is stewing, like a really bad dream
Counter-working geriatrics, dying to make a little green

Politicians on the take man
Models snorting up their 15
The world is all askew
Life dying out

The revolution is building, packing heat in school
Pint sized murderers, mug shot cool

Politicians turn a blind eye
Models fade away and die
The world is too rude
$60 for crude

The revolution is here, pouring out of my head
culture clashing off centered wisdom, then I'm dead

Politicians don't know me
models could care less
I'll just turn to rust
die with my lust

the revolution is over, the insurgency gone
Counter clockwise movement, broken heart song