Train of thought

You fell asleep on the metra rail, and you know you missed your stop
Now the end of the line, will be the end of your time
Don't worry, cause i too forgot

Number 8462, will never be the same to you, or anybody that you know
Reaching union station in contemplation
you wonder where did the time go

Whistles blowing and the train starts slowing, everybodies standing tall
But the screeching brakes just don't have what it takes
Nothing's left to break your fall

Now give me your hand, together we can watch the world come to an end
The glowing street lights look, bright as daylight
We're moving full steam ahead

sisyphus blues

...An old man
Looking through his life
At what he's done
And what he'll leave behind

He sees his past
Fly over him
The wasted days
And what else could have been

...A little child
Through hopeful eyes
Convinced himself
That one day he will fly

Over the trees
And through the clouds
Above are stars
He'll never come back down

...The old man too
He had big dreams
He quickly learned
That nothing is as it seems

He saw them slip
Between his hands
Came crashing down
Like castles made of sand

...Flying high
The boy looks down
On that old man
Who's feet are on the ground

As he walked
The boy just flew
The ground is worn
But the sky is always blue

...Well will you
Ever reach the top
Or will you stop
And climb that hill again?

traveling companion

As I walked on my daily travels this morning, I came across a fellow traveler--someone who had no doubt been on the road longer than I have been alve. It was a little pebble, broke free from a larger stone, and it rested right in my path.

He joined me on my journey, rolling a few yards ahead of me, and then waiting for me to catch up. We played this game for some time. I needed the company, and he needed a ride.

Tumbling across the pavement he danced with every rhythmic obtuse skip which allowed time to stop for him as he momentarily glided above the ground before crashing down and coming to a rolling stop.

A tragic ricochet off a parking stop doomed my traveling companion. He was sent spinning out of control into the unknown. Rather than looking for him I left him be. I could not help anymore as he was swallowed by the pasture and waiting for the next traveler to come by and set him free,

I could relate.

like trees dancing

i was watching one of those nature shows this afternoon
the kind where every animal was either killing another or making it by the watering hole
squirrels, hippos, insects - it was all the same
everything was hunting

then there were the trees
standing tall and proud watching it all go down
smiling
not wasting time sleeping, eating or mating
just living
pure, calculated, blissful, existence while dancing along the way

dancing?
yes dancing
swaying and waltzing in the autumn breeze
it's easy to miss
it's almost impossible not to
you need to listen for it
listen for the rustle of their leaves
the crackle of their branches
watch as the canopy catches fire
the forest become more alive than ever

the birds of paradise parade around
and the wolves pick off caribou from the herd
but all the while the trees watch patiently
existing
dancing

passing through

i pulled into the city, looking to grab a drink
i asked the waitress the meaning of life she said 'what do you think?'
i said 'i asked you first,' she said 'it's all a game
people come and people go, in the end it's all the same
there's no sure things in life' she said
and now how about you?
i finished up my drink and said
'i'm just a stranger passing through'

tuesday morning

now, perhaps more than ever, i feel insignificant
not in a sorrowfull way
in a sublime way
as i drink my coffee i am a speck in a world where one cannot be more

who strives to be more
who dares to challenge nature
is it ego, or the unwillingness
to accept that there is nothing else

i stand for thee, greater soul than i
it is you, not myself
who will transcend
who will illuminate the sea, clad in its funeral best

complacantly reflecting
is passive suicide
dying in reverse
returning to that from which you came from

Hillcrest and Glidden

through kaleidoscope eyes the street lights appear as distant stars
the car engines and neon whispers trade secrets at the gas pump
as an old song reminds me of why i came back in the first place
and why i have to leave

i wish i could remember what i promised myself i would forget

the snow melted last weekend and a layer of trash is all that winter left behind
broken beer bottles and cigarette butts
its too cold for the moths under this fading parking lot light
it's empty for now
no one has any business here that can't wait another hour

my only business is to stop the rain
stop it before the whole town is underwater
i'm not much of a swimmer
i've been on dry land for years and can't afford to go back
but maybe that's what this town needs
a good rain to wash the filth away and give it a clean slate
a flood to stir the ground and shake people out of their cozy little homes

who am i kidding?
i'm not much of a swimmer

the gas attendant steps out for a smoke and threatens to blow the place up
...he's not much of a swimmer either
a car with one headlight turns in and asks for directions
they're all the same, passing through in a hurry trying to beat the weather
as the car drives off the clerk looks at me
i see him but pretend i don't
the rain lets up and a chill hits the air

the powerball is up to 10 million today
maybe then i'd find my way out of this place and never look back
instead i buy a pack of cigarettes and walk home

through kaleidoscope eyes the approaching headlights make me sick and nauseous