This is a test.
I thought it best
to speak privately.
While the rest
of humankind
seethes at the breast
of Chaos,
suckling hot blood
from its chest,
let our shared words
somehow attest
to what is possible!
Let zest
for living fill us,
let us not leave
unexpressed
those great desires
that once impressed
us to make changes
to this world!
Let this bond be
our flag unfurled!
10 MAY 2006
Leave a CommentWhat makes up a community,
if not those common threads
that make us not such strangers
and more interested, instead,
in how the other sees the world,
what makes a good friend tick.
To share the things that shape your life:
that’s what makes friendship stick.
And who need know out and beyond
some wide, imagined fence,
besides the ones whose words you trust
with your experience?
If the result is my small pond
should teem with such big fish
that my wee boat seems less alone:
for what more could I wish?
09 APR 2006
Leave a CommentI don’t even know your name;
it’s not important you know mine.
But since you’re sitting there alone,
I’d like a minute of your time.
It may seem forward, I’ll admit;
I’ll understand if you refuse.
But you look like you might agree,
so what have I got to lose?
It’s only dancing, it won’t do any harm;
two minutes and thirty three seconds pretending in each other arms.
It’s no long term commitment to true love and romancing;
just a spin on the floor for a song, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.
I don’t know the latest moves,
but I’ve heard this old song before;
and every time it starts to play,
they seem to fill up the dance floor.
I may not be your type at all;
I’ll understand if you say no.
But something in your eyes tonight
tells me you might just have a go.
It’s only dancing, doesn’t need to lead somewhere;
two minutes thirty three seconds pretending the world isn’t there.
It’s no prelude to forever, or the start of romancing;
just some turns on the floor for a while, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.
I don’t want to lead you on;
I’m not expecting any action.
But we both came in here alone,
probably could use the distraction.
It may seem an odd request;
I’ll understand if you decline.
But as long as we’re both here,
we might as well have a good time.
It’s only dancing, it’s not anything wrong;
two minutes and thirty three seconds together enjoying this song.
It’s no ever after, no foolish romancing;
just a spin on the floor for a spell, nothing more.
It’s only dancing.
22 JAN 2006
The dance floor is swimming with fine looking women
and boys on the move or the make
The music is pumping, and this place is jumping
it’s turned into quite a clambake
The whiskey’s been flowing, with no signs of slowing
and everyone’s starting to glow
A hell of a party, Budweiser, Bacardi,
we’re set to play one more great show
There’s nothing wrong with a party crowd
No harm in getting drunk and being loud
I’ve done my share of that; I’m not too proud
To say much more than should have been allowed
But I’m too old for drinking shots all night
Got far too much to lose to start a fight
Just ’cause someone looked at me not quite right …
I’ll take the corner table out of sight.
I’d rather sit and talk here with my friends
And let some nothing slip in my weekend
Maybe a little more, but it depends
On who else is here when the party ends.
The long bar is littered with empties and glitter,
they’re packed like sardines through the door;
and out on the hardwood the ugly, bad and good
are making points and keeping score
Yeah, it’s a great shindig, who knew it’d get this big,
it’s almost not quite in control
Who knows much longer, before this great throng here
makes diamonds from our lumps of coal
Sometimes it’s great in a party crowd
Big fun in getting drunk and being loud
I’ve been the center, and I’m not too proud
To say more often than should be allowed
But I’m too old for drinking Jack ’til two
Much more than one or two and I’m half through,
Too tired to wait all night for a pool cue
And then exhausted, crawl on home to you.
I’d rather sit and nurse a single beer
Make it a hobby instead of career
That way I’m sure at least my head is clear
when this whole party crowd disappears.
Last call was just sounded, the bar is surrounded
with elbows, slurred orders and shouts
While each senorita makes themselves look sweeter
to start weeding their prospects out
One more upbeat number, last test for the drummer,
sing out, sing along strong and loud
Bound up in the action, in the satisfaction
of being in the party crowd.
There’s nothing wrong with a party crowd
No harm in getting drunk and being loud
I’ve done my share of that; I’m not too proud
To say much more than should have been allowed
But I’m too old for drinking shots all night
Got far too much to lose to start a fight
Just ’cause someone looked at me not quite right …
I’ll take the corner table out of sight.
I’d rather sit and talk here with my friends
And let some nothing slip in my weekend
Maybe a little more, but it depends
On who else is here when the party ends.
27 DEC 2005
Leave a CommentLight up another cigarette, crack open one more beer
Let’s drink to those who lived and ended up with a career
Who suffered the indignity of having their gold panned
Who didn’t end up dying quite as young as they had planned
Light up another cigarette, and pour out one more round
Let’s drink to those whose wasted years are not yet underground
Who suffered the injustice of not suffering enough
Who didn’t end up dying to send their record sales up
Can you still be a martyr to a cause that no one knows,
a prophet in your own home town, a sheep dressed in wolves’ clothes,
if they all know you struggled, but still managed to survive
playing double sets in some old, empty dives?
Light up another cigarette, line up another shot
Let’s drink to those poor devils that the critics have forgot
Who didn’t spend their short, sweet lives in angst-inducing pain
Who stayed on at the grindstone and instead lived on in vain.
Light up another cigarette, tap that last pony keg
Let’s drink to those who carried on, and had to learn to beg
Who suffered in the shadows, while some comets came and went
Who paid the tab when others left, their money still unspent.
Can you still be a martyr in obscurity, unknown,
if your splash isn’t big enough, if your death cult hasn’t grown,
if they see you still living, and assume you haven’t cried
as much as those brave legends who all died?
Light up another cigarette, and fill up one more glass
Let’s drink to those whose lives are more than a grand epitaph
Who pay the price for living by pretending not to die
Who write the songs we all sing when the caskets roll on by.
27 NOV 2005
Leave a CommentWhen you think about it, what does a jury of one’s peers really mean? Legally, I suppose it means that because all individuals are theoretically equal under the law, one’s peers in a litigious sense means other equally theoretical equals.
A peer might be anyone who shares with me age, gender, ethnicity, race, education, geography, nationality or religion, in some combination. But considering any of these factors in isolation does not make sense to me. This does not seem to be the basis by which I identify my peers on a daily basis. For example I do not consider all men to be my peers, nor all southerners, nor all people who did not quite graduate from college? Not on a typical day.
For me, a peer is a fellow traveler. Not someone on the same path as I am, nor someone who has been where I’ve been, but someone who has been faced with the same kinds of dilemmas, made similar choices, and lived with the consequences of those choices in order to a achieve a similar goal. That means that in order to decide who my peer group is, I have got to get the order of the questions right. Often, we ask “who is going with me?” before we ask “where am I going?” As a result, whether or not the traveling companion is suitable, advantageous or even compatible for the journey cannot be in any way intelligently determined.
Who are my peers, then?
People who have lived in more than one state. People who have been divorced. People who read books daily. Curious people. People who vote their conscience and intelligence and not the party line. People who believe that life and death can be defined as energy borrowed, energy returned. People who feel that art, beauty, kindness, compassion and doubt are essential elements of human existence. People willing to get their hands dirty. People who recognize that all ethical systems are based on the principle Thou Before I and actually, where possible, live according to that standard. People who believe that love is not ownership. People who seek commonalities, rather than differences. People who seek beyond institutionalized anything (schools, churches, governments) in order to discover how Universal Truth becomes Personal Truth. People who see beyond all of these Aristotaliarian compartmentalizations. People who know there is no such thing as prehistory, who draw outside the lines, who accept personal responsibility for who they are, where they are, and how they got there, who believe that a meritocritous egalitarian society is not only possible, but achievable, one person at a time.
If my life were on trial, I would insist that 12 such individuals be found to weigh my fate.
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