Daily Archives: April 4, 2004

The Wheel

Some men stand tall, some men feel
Some men show signs, some conceal
Train is rolling, iron and steel
Steam that blows the whistle never turns the wheel.

Some men make plans, some men deal
Some men kick out, some men kneel
Highway’s burning, oil and steel
Steam that blows the whistle never turns the wheel.

Some men destroy and some men heal
Some men build up, some men steal
Trouble’s boiling, blood and steel
Steam that blows the whistle never turns the wheel.

Some men save life, some men kill
Some men won’t cry, some men will
World is turning, earth and steel
Steam that blows the whistle never turns the wheel.

1998

A Real Audio version can be found HERE.

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A Blessing for the Road: a benison or blessing

I’ve asked much from the universe,
expecting, like a child,
that forces outside my control,
untamed, feral and wild,

would take a hand, and mold my life
in ordered, simple ways.
Such is the expectation
of most people, when they pray.

But my petition now has changed;
I listen, more than speak,
and hope for nothing sure, except
reminders where I’m weak.

The universe can bless or curse;
to me, they are the same.
Just tests from different teachers,
with only myself to blame.

Again, I ask the universe
to contemplate my role,
and where required, make changes
that may benefit the whole.

Much more than that, I cannot ask,
nor really, do I need,
except a blessing to move at
a self-determined speed.

04 APR 2004

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The Shallow Water

a poem in blank verse

Again, the conversation turned to fate;
and as the group was interested, to chance,
the lines of battle drawn between the ones
who thought the world predestined yet misshaped

and those who found perfection or kismet
in random acts and notions of free will.
The problem, said the former, is the lack
of evidence to justify our claim;

and to rebut, the latter said, to wit,
all evidence is houses built on sand.
For after all, our frame of reference fits
inside a thimble floating on a sea.

At best, we know our own spot on the shore;
and of the entire ocean only guess.

04 APR 2004

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Against the Cynic: a double refrain ballade

The cynic’s eye sees wreck, despair,
the order torn asunder;
and finds delight in citing where
the world has lost its wonder,

his focus on the thunder
in soft and gentle rain,
and how each stupid blunder
makes a life of loss and pain.

“There is no good found anywhere,
no qualities of number,
and further, I find no one cares
the world has lost its wonder.”

Thus the cynic speaks with thunder
his apocalypse refrain,
“‘Tis the ignorance of slumber
makes a life of loss and pain.”

Now, it can be said, to be fair,
that life is mostly umber,
and if to a dream compared,
the world has lost its wonder.

For those who think of plunder,
seeking only their own gain
the illusion they toil under
makes a life of loss and pain.

Perhaps it is no small blunder
the world has lost its wonder
Looking constant down the drain
makes a life of loss and pain.

04 APR 2004

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