Tag: artists

Change

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Change

Change

Change

Change is what comes when the machine fails
Rusted bolts screech louder when they halt
Mending again yet to bare no fruit
Replacement must be the only truth

Change is the needed outcome of a wound
Balm and bandage meant just to cover
Keeping such a thing so tightly bound
Distracts from a scar that never formed

Change is the nature of fluid’s fate
Contained with tanks and glass
Yet running over stone in rapid flow
When its full weight comes to break

Change is the pain of an iron man marathon
Walls make steps heavy and breath thin
Resistance builds until ankles are weak
Yet heavy feet beat louder underneath

A path toward desired outcome
Or just another act in the play
“Hungry for change”
It just sounds better,
Than “starving the same”

Streets are littered with hapless souls
Tossed about with just seed to plant
The choice is removed from which to be
Revolutionaries for a boundless age
Or, another beggar, looking for change

Broken Throne

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When I decline their offer of cheer
I always wonder if they see the fear

A kindly gesture met with refusal
Chilled bomb within grasp
My very own Mozel Tov cocktail
Terror clawing at sanity’s clasp

Do they see me wrestle the wheel
Take the right turn on the wrong street
Committing a sin against my song
Trying to resist my own beat

Craving the sweet taste of submission
Wash of failure drowning out that fight
Momentary charade of peace in the land
Shield blinding from the reality of blight

When guards are down sleeping shallow
Silent invaders seize their opportunity
Disguising themselves as if they should be
Uniting all of me in peaceful toxic unity

A silent war hid snuggly beneath gaze
Carried on the back for all else to know
Yet we find the truth of our betrayal in our folly
Naming our enemy for a chance to grow

At the end of the road is recovery
Yet the journey stands hollow and alone
A civil war raging for a new king
To hope the close lends no broken throne

Still I wonder what people think
When I tell them I don’t drink

King of the World (a buncha couplets)

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Our world seeing now some troubling things
Reminds us to look for hope in our kings

Master of strength; show off your brawn
Move the sun forward to dawn

The light of the moon shines often dim
A hopeful reminder of your whim

But your people lie suffered in the dark
Grasping for the song of meadow lark

Though the record of the sun goes strong
The presence of night grows long

Won’t you use your might to correct the mistake?
Or will you watch as your people break?

Sovereign of mercy, enforce your desire
Clear us a path away from this fire

Friends in the south suffer and choke
Watch it all burn and go up in smoke

More still east inherit fear of the west
Ravaged but still comes yet another test

An iron bird’s wail is a troubling sound
Engines breed tensions wherever they’re found

Will you prove name’s promise to the world below?
Or will we our fears bloom as part of your show?

Ruler of music; play us a song
Make it go down a little less strong

Drinks are swallowed with much more ease
When drowned out is the sound of the least of these

Averted eyes can find new opportunity
Fresh songs are best heard with less scrutiny

That distraction can grant new insight
In sorrow we forget to turn on the light

Is the love of your fruit a blessing in kind?
Or yet another attempt to deafen and blind?

Lord of wisdom inspire your voice
Remind the masses we have a choice

King of the world, where lies your crown?
Is this your will, and must I take it lying down?

Ghost

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Torn from body
Spirit from bone
Parting our worlds
I am left alone

Today I woke ethereal
This just couldn’t be
Separated from material
Nothing left of me

Did I leave you empty soul?
I should have taken more care.
Our hearts should have been full
Before I vanished to air

I’d give a body for this life
I demand you put charge to brain.
Put that flesh under knife,
And make it just just the same

Walking this place I am so near
Wandering halls I have no claim
These portraits once brought me cheer
How is it that they aren’t the same?

Been cut down yet I’ve grown
Tear these walls and build anew
I’ll stick the queen back to throne
And find a way to hold the glue

The weight of flesh pulls me down
Unfamiliar gravity put foot to ground
Somehow I think I might not drown
I hope you’re proud of what I’ve found

After tears dry
I still wonder most
How did you die
But leave me the ghost

Lions

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We never asked for the screaming
It just busted the windows and came in

A burglar stealing our thoughts
Leaving us with gaps on shelves
A broken mural of men
Trying to paint ourselves

As if that weren’t enough
Those walls, they’ll close in
The people that don’t understand
Will treat it like it’s our own sin

They’ll build up crashing waves
Then bring ‘en down on our clout
Villafy us in their village
And wonder why we don’t come out

They’ll claim we’re the bullet
From their tragedy’s gun
They forget who pulled the trigger
As if their works could be undone

And yet their stance is fatally firm
Our illness is the matter
They climb up like King Kong
Standing high atop their tatters

Oh but they’ll pretend to care
Without action to match word
Turning us into rhetoric
Silencing a voice to be heard

So instead we cling to our pride
Nursing the pain that leaves us crying
But if you took the splinters from our paws
You’d see us stand as lions

Sleep

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You ever try to sleep,
But end up dreaming?
An attempt to take a break from life
Where instead you find another meaning?

People tell me I look tired
And they’re usually right.
It feels like a waste of time
Just breathing through the night

Yet somehow our bodies demand it
Just a little break from the struggle
Of playing our games in the day
In fear we might stumble

We live this life on razor’s edge
So much so we value unconciousness
Time wasted in blanket’s hug
Can you believe that preposterousness?

Should it not be a bit different?
Sleep oughta be an inconvenient chore
A necessary skip in time
We’re just made to endure

Yet a temporary death in our slumber
Instead brings reprieve to our pain
We’re lions tamed to house cats
Look in the mirror and notice your mane

When it’s time to sleep
Do it because you must
Don’t resign to being a machine
Just enjoying your own rust

You ever try to dream;
Just to end up asleep?

Artist

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You are an artist

Maybe you haven’t figured out how?
What marble will you cut to form?
Start with whatever you can allow
So long as it breaks you from norm

Through your expression
You’ll find a new view
A lasting impression
Of the real you

Me, I’m a poet
The lost son of a storyteller
And a song
I try to make words dance
While I sing along

I learned that from stories
They tend to hit me like trains
Yet I just end up wondering
Where they’re going
And from where they came

Those thoughts drove me to write
To pick up the immortal pen
And move to banish from sight
The ignorance of myself then

We must all find what moves us
To give our voices something to say
Really that’s what makes it art
Whether it’s in sound or clay

We are artists

We protest with our creation
We show them our plight
Make known our indignation
And carry out our fight

We show beauty with our craft
We Highlight the curves of sky
Spreading light with each draft
To make the world less dry

We show heroes in our work
We inspire some valor
When the creatures that lurk
Expect us to cower

You are an artist
Don’t tell yourself you’re not
At least when you go down
You’ll know you fought