Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Face down in the sand, I cry

Waste deep, as the water crashes over me

I die

Only to see a hand reaching out for me


There are only thoughts and ideas

No over arching way

When we follow a master made of clay

Our selfishness we display

That man makes me feel all right about my flesh

Look I am shiny and new

That girl gives me breath, now I can be like you.

Why is it we create an image of what we think love is?

Why don’t we take our glasses off when we see each other?

Because when someone is different, not like me, I do not know what to do.

They should fit in my box, my little cube that I made for all who are new.

Legs weary with weight, I climb

Back breaking with pressure from my mind.

What did I ever do to you, that makes you hate me so?

Where do you get off treating me like a show?

Put your money in the slot and I will dance for you.

Give me paper dollars and hold some more it’s true.

There are riches that go beyond money they are lives and people too.

When with lift up one, and disgrace the other we can final live as one.

One mind, one thought, one way of life.

This is the way of man.

Arms out stretched, I bow.

There is no goal, no end for me.

It is already done.

Nothing to achieve only believe that my answer has come.

This might sound too simple or overly contrite, but it is my one accord.

To live open handed and misunderstood is better than money or goods.

I have seen my end and it started in the beginning.

I was born into a world that wants my mind to conform to a prescribed reward.

When I think of “the dream” I become nauseous.

Ideology, becomes idolatry

And now the idols fall.

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