As we march to 2012

"Brother, Can You Spare the Time?"

They used to tell us that we were the best
And we were superpower
That with each passing minute we prospered
And flourished hour after hour
That our armies could take on the stars
And accomplish any task
That the internet would expand and surround us
And provide us with masks

They commanded we march off to war
And we heeded their drums
That our sacrifice was needed
And so we gave them our sons
They said it would all be over
And we hoped for that day
They said that it might take longer
Yet still we obeyed

They told us there would be no problem
That all would be well
They told us there would be bomb shelters
For when it all went to hell
But as the oceans rose and the ionosphere declined
As the warhawks sang
We should have known it would all dissapear
In the wind, with a bang

Power of Words

"Unknowable"
What lies beyond my sight, Beyond the world cast by light?
There the Ether has it's tides,
And on it's waves, we do ride
Adrift like rafts upon the sea
Whats the difference: you or me?
Its all the same
Ignore the name
Better never to be tamed
Words and symbols used as chains.

The Irony of It All

All I want to do is to help people and live my life closer to the spiritual world, to wander with a tribe of like minded individuals, discovering higher metaphysical truths and living life to it's fullest. And yet, in this day and age this is frowned upon. I am "wasting" my life. Ha! Is it you or I who has wasted the wonderful bounty of experiences this world has to offer? Do you know of the beauty of a full moon rising over the horizon? The sweet music of running water? The grace and beauty of the animal world? The secrets and knowledge of the fungi?

No, I say it is those who are damned to only a material existence who have wasted the precious gift of life! Go out and explore! LIVE!

The Dead weep for the living, for it is only through death that life is truly appreciated. The Time of Travel draws near for me, and I hear the road beckon. I hear you! I hear you! We are long lost lovers, waiting for the time we might once again be made one.

"Nomad"

Speak not of hovels
Of dens and abodes
My heart's made of pavement
My blood made of road

I know not of months
Of weeks and of days
But only of silver
And bright shining rays

I ride in a tribe
And we know this land
And though you may never
Quite understand

The thought of the miles
Far at my back
Leaves my soul free to roam,
Released from the rack

Now THIS is the life
That brings ease to death
Not a chance missed
Not unspent a breath