Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Black Ice

The rain has stopped but for the trees
Who drip their drops on fallen leaves
On sidewalks and on busy streets
Where droplets all turn into sheets
Which freeze when the sun goes down
And makes it hard to get around

Understated Reign

Careful not to say to much
Try to reach but never touch
The meaning of the essence of it all
Understated is the way
The sun passes over every day
To daily grinders it's just a glowing ball
But what would be the daily grind
Without the sun's bright light to guide


Pledge allegance to the flag, or to the concept for which it stands
A flag is but a colored cloth, tangible in your hands

But allegance to material that will one day wither and fade
Is silly compared to the greatness for which the flag is made

But words will often be mistook when a saying becomes ingrained
Is it the flag or a greater idea for which the oath is maintained

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Good Riddance

This is not the Roman Empire
And you sir are no Caesar
Your house can easily be set fire
If you aren't a crowd pleaser

Thumbs down pointed to the ground
Is the verdict of your terms
May history erase the sound
Of your misspoken germs

Autumnal Equinox

             The autumn leaves a time of change

       Where all the things that seemed arranged

             In colors green turn red and brown

                     And all fall down around

                  The trunks of mighty trees,

                 A constant watcher will see

                The gradually shifting season

                Being reflected without reason

     In the colors. But the yawning dozer believes
It's winter as he wakes and sees the missing leaves.

Shiny Metal

Shiny metal badges sheen
and tell you who to trust;
It doesn't matter what you've seen
when nothing can be discussed,
Just keep the engines nice and clean
as hearts continue to rust.
Why do we struggle to power the machines
when the machines overpower us?

Skilled Labor

The pool of skilled labor is quickly dying
Because the products the machine is supplying
Are denying the workers the right to learn
Only providing the right to earn
Enough momentum to make your cog spin
To be a good part of the machine you're in
So long as you don't understand where you stand
That's how the machine keeps the upper hand

The Name

Those who choose to blame
a name
that they're given
on the life that they're living

Have lost sight
that what we write
with every line
is what defines

A name
will be the same
if a title is said
before the pages are read

let readers be led
through paths of mystery
with different histories

Where names are assigned
by the changing times
instead of being resigned
that the times are defined

By names
that stay the same
and stand in plain sight
and block out the light

Casting long shadows
until everyone knows
the tune
and soon

Know nothing else
Hearts beat with one pulse
which gets frantic
then paralyzed by panic

And no one is to blame
because we're all the same
One name that each accepted
without exception

No blame will be uneven
but also no reason
for anyone to believe
in any more to achieve

Than just a name like a sign on a hill
that all the passersby will
see and exclaim
'Oh my, what a big name!'

But never take the time
to stop and wonder why
they needed such a sign
for that name to be defined

Defined, and assigned a meaning
putting limits on being
We are the weavers of what the future will be
spinning together the tales of history

Monday, October 27, 2008


The storm is brewing
The weather is right
Clouds are collecting
To block the sun's light

And the burned barren land
Cries out with thirst
Roots clinging to sand
Await the cloudburst

And out from the shade
Come the dry and parched
New friendships are made
As together they march

Towards the relief
From the sun's burning rays
To rinse off the grief
Of deserted past days

And the rain sparkles in
And the earth lets off steam
And suddenly things
Aren't as bad as they seem


My anger that I have is not with you
Even though it might be kindled by some things you do
We're all just products of the land we live in
And I hope that when it shows in me I'll be forgiven

If we can connect the points where our similarities are
And unite a network that will extend out far
In any available similarity's direction
And each watch it work in case it needs correction

We can stop trying to prove how strong we can fight
And start fighting to find how strong we can unite
Hold tight together and bear the weather
And we'll blow away our burdens like they were feathers

Break the chains that keep us tethered
When the umbilical cord poisons, it must be severed
So we can stand up out of this fetal position
And prove we're mature by making decisions


The time, the time is growing thin
Before the new time will begin
The old stands teetering on the brink
With barely any time to think

All hands on deck hold onto the rails
As all the faces are turning pale
The angle of the deck begins to tip
Before the wormhole warps the ship

Into a new exotic dimension
Where suddenly things don't seem the same
And all the crew stand up at attention
As they pick up the physics of a whole new game

Blades of Grass

Like blades of grass that bend in the wind
But can never move further from their roots
And when they start to grow too tall
The caretaker comes and mows them all
And bags up all of the shoots
The grass can only try to grow again

And the sun's heat beats down hot upon
The newly wounded blades
But the caretaker spreads some chemical food
And once again everything is good
As the mighty tree casts some shade
And the worries of the day are gone


Streams of information pouring out so fast
Not sure whats true or what will last
Competing ideolouges slander each other
Try to convince you you don't love your mother
Try to trick you into blowing your cover
Try to convince you you don't need any others
Than some presidents folded up in your pocket
Get enough pack 'em up in a safe and lock it
Then get more paranoid with every breath
But what you're afraid of is worse than death
Getting to the end of life and realizing
How short it is is so surprising

Wednesday, October 15, 2008


                              Be aware
And take each action with care
For time passes like a blade scraping
Upon a marble block that it's shaping

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Squealing Beasts

In the walls, running across the ceiling
I can hear them squealing
The next generation
Of infestation

Fed off the waste
I make in my haste
As I rush to avoid
Being annoyed
By the little things 
That busyness brings

But while I go crazy
The rats are all lazily
Off of what I don't eat
What I throw at my feet

In the rush to succeed 
We think we don't need
To watch the details
But what that entails
Is living with rats
Because thats
What you get
When you forget
That lifes not for rushing

It's not about pushing
Yourself to extremes
Even though it seems
It might get you there faster
When you're headed for disaster
You better slow down

Stop and look around
You've seen the rats
Now thats
What you need to take some time for
To settle the score
Before there's no more peace in your home
Because the rats won't leave you alone

They need
You to feed
Them with your scraps
That perhaps
Could have been better used
If only you had the time to choose
Your own path
Away from the rats

Saturday, October 11, 2008


Life on Earth is warfare
And if you don't know where 
To look to find it
You're blinded

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Industrial Entertainment

Entertained until our brains
Lay dormant in our skulls
Entertained until the pain
Is comfortably numbed
Entertained until eye strain
Becomes our second nature
Entertained, our time in vain
Trickles down from the future

Thursday, October 2, 2008

The Throne

The thickened walls of the castle keep
Bury the peasents in too deep

With no where to go, their waste collects
The state of the kingdom it reflects

The king sits in his polished throne
Sitting, waiting all alone

The queen and jack await to push
The handle for the royal flush

As the king sits grinning unaware
Of the spiraling waters beneath his chair

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Philosopher's Stone

The alchemists have gotten out of hand
Too many transmutations to understand
The philosopher's stone turned out instead
To only transform gold to lead

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Wolves at the Doors

Dogs don't like to lose fights
I think that it shows
And when this all is over
I'm sure that you'll know
Cause dogs are people too man
Who bark at the moon
Knowing that it's phase
Will be changing soon
Barking and biting until then
It's all that dogs know
And to thrive off the morsals
Of the corpses of foes

Wednesday, September 17, 2008


Talk to children as if you're their peer
They're selective yet receptive of what goes in their ears
So if you make it something that they want to hear
They might listen

If you choose instead to scold or shout
One ear in and the other out
You might start to get an idea about
What they're missing

Treat them each as a peer instead
And you'll find that the things going in their heads
Make a lasting impression and instead
Come back to you

For what you sow now you soon will reap
And the hope for the future that you keep
Will have roots that run generations deep
Growing through you

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Mill Pond Green Design Narrative

Design Posters and Narrative moved to:

Please check them out there.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Deja Vu

Deja vu for sure
Like we've been here before
These lines I write, they aren't mine
But history will hash it out in time
Spinning round and round again

Spilling from your head
Come words already said
As visions flash upon a screen
They are all things already dreamed
Spinning round and round again

Pencil scratched page
Authors another age
Sliding through the sands of time
The grains cave in with every line
Spinning round and round again

Watch a little boy
Pick up a tarnished toy
From the toy a lesson learned
And once again the earth will turn
Spinning round and round again

Every Time

Every time I get close
You feel so good
Another dose
Put me in the mood
But you can't give it to me
And I can't take it

Every time you say a word
I take it to heart
Thought that I heard
But your mouth was shut
Cause you can't say it to me
And I won't hear it

Every time you look at me
Stare into your eyes
Blink and turn away
Make me think it's all lies
If you don't see it in me
Then I can't watch it

Every time I get close
You feel so good
Another dose
Put me in the mood
But you can't give it to me
And I can't take it

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Butterfly Effects

Butterfly in a silken shell
Comfortable chrysalis caterpillars know well
While others fly, in wrappings dwell
When to break it time will tell

Too many threads to understand them
They fall apart and seem so random
When they break no way to mend them
Is the courage there to rend them

Break free and unfold new wings
See the result that action brings
The grand adventure will begin
Discard the wrappings for what's within

Friday, June 20, 2008


You will see everything that you expect to see, but everything might not appear as you expected it. The less preconceptions about what you will see, the more you will see. You mold your world with what you conceive and your world molds you with what you perceive. Preconceptions which are given to you from sources outside of your own cognitive processes can act as tints do on your vision, blocking certain wavelengths of color so that they don't offend your eye.

Concepts that you hold to be true in your mind are like tools that you hold in your hand, crafting the materials that you create. Biased preconception that are handed to you that you choose to hold will hinder your hands from crafting your own ideas, acting as burdens hung around your wrists, slowing you down and inhibiting you from experiencing the world in balance. When we work within the balance of nature and within the balance of human emotions, we can live sustainably, if that is what we each expect to see.

As you are constantly thinking of what to expect next, your brain is processing, creating new information to prepare you for how to react. Preconceptions generated in this preparatory process can be useful and act as a shield would in combat, but once a peaceful situation is reached, the shields can be put down. Old preconceptions that have been held onto for too long become obsolete as the conditions in which they were created change. Flexibility and recyclibility become virtues in the concepts that we hold.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Momentary Living

Waiting for the time to arrive
The moment when you feel alive
Like lightning bolts shooting from your eyes
And lighting up the cloudy skies

In dreams you see the brilliant flash
But wake up in a pile of trash
Knowing that there must be more
But unaware of the current score

Unaware, so again you wait
Unsure if you're early or late
Knowing only that when it comes
Warmth like basking in the sun
Melting away the layers of shivers
When the message is delivered

Friday, April 18, 2008

The Ancient Forest

   Underneath the ancient trees that grow their branches high towards the sky to gather up the light and filter it to flowing shades of emerald and jade which reflect upon the gently rolling waters of a stream where happy forest daughters bathe and dream pleasant visions of provisions from flowers grown to fruits on shoots that bend down from the branches of the trees, and pleased, the daughters freely play. 
   A sudden shudder in the leaves breaks them from their peaceful dreams to hear a buzzing strange machine the likes of which they've never seen. With cold claws it tears tender trees up from the earth and shakes the dirt off as it feeds entire trees to it's ever chewing teeth, billowing black coughs into the air that scare all the creatures on the boughs as they huddle and watch how the noble forest daughters go forward and are slaughtered by spinning blades. And the river runs red and black with blood and mud, turning dreams of those downstream into nightmares, but the machine has no cares as it bears it's buzzing blades into the trees.

Silence is gold

If silence is golden, what's the value of gold
What are we holding when our tongues have grown cold

Silence is but the absence of sound
Empty hands pass nothing around

Silence means no sweet songs to hear
No encouraging words to ward off fear

Silence, the beginning of the end
Another missed chance to make a friend

Silence, how does it differ from death
It's sadder for it has a wasted breath

The Dread

The truth is you're just too scared to move
Scared of anything that might make you fall in love
With something outside of the dream you've been shown
Scared of what you've missed by not searching on your own
So you don't stand up, never take a look
At the stories that you can't find in any books
The stories of hunger, from the underfed
About searching for a bite, running from the dread

Countless people over centuries living in pain
How much longer will the story go on unchanged
Much more convenient to just fill your head
With what the television tells you so easily instead
Of taking a look at the path that lies ahead
If you're lonely now, start breaking your bread
Share what you've got while there's things to share
So if something happens to you theres someone who'll care

So when you're searching for a bite, running from the dread
You'll have a peaceful place to lay your head

Political Magicians

Political magicians are getting suspicious
To much ambitions to define what's religious
The voters will believe what their eyes will see
Constantly receiving what their opinions should be
Politicians sit back and have a nice chat
Humans die in Iraq while the pigs get fat

A Fast Fix For Information Addicts

Growing ooze that eats the brain
But makes you feel fit and keen
Makes it fun to go insane
As you spend your time inside the machine

Spend it while it passes by
But what returns for all the cost
A little amusement for the eye
To distract from all that's being lost

Ignorance is the bliss we choose
The distraction that we're fed
While our work is being used
From now until the day we're dead

We all will die at once together
A certain death we're preparing for
Predicted more than the weather
Killed by the chaos of a constant war.

Killed in the chaos of a constant war
Never quite knowing what we're fighting for
And yet we keep on asking for more

The Beanstalk

Jack and the Beanstalk
Planting a seed
A new kind of growth
Is what he needs

Growing up a plant
To climb up to the clouds
Let the Golden Goose go
And throw the giants down


What is the sword stuck in the stone
And how long has it been since the blade was honed
Sits in a museum for visitors to see
But the velvet ropes keep it out of reach

Where is the dragon's mountain cave
Sits on a pile of gold he's saved
Razor teeth and fiery breath
Guarantee intruders a certain death

Who is the knight that can wield the blade
And climb to the mountain unafraid
Realizing the dragon is not the greatest danger
But could make a good ally as the weather gets stranger

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

Extreme Boundaries

Walking around in extremes,
or so it seems;
maybe just walking around in a dream.
A carefully woven scheme
that cannot be broken
without choking
off the air supply.
You might wonder why
no one dares to touch it.
You can't budge it.
It was already shoved
and fell from above,
crashed with a big thud
and left broken and stuck in the mud.
But when the reality seen
is kept nice and clean,
no one notices what slips in between
the sprockets of the machine.
Too much armor protecting
so no one sees the dust collecting.
It's much too minuscule
to be mentioned in school
when there's tests that need preparing.
Tests that keep on scaring
students out of possibilities,
success based on probabilities
and skills based on numbers.
While an aging generation slumbers
the greatest prize
of their entire lives
is rotting away in the classroom.
Better act soon
before your children aren't as smart
as the computers at which they sit,
and the future is dark for certain.
But open the curtain
and let the light in.
Allow a new age of enlightenment to begin.


Some people just don't get it, you know. They actually do all that religious stuff on the weekends. They don't realize it's just an excuse to get some days off from work to do things that we actually want to do. Like go shopping, and to buy things to support the jobs that employ us, and give us the money that allows us to go shopping in our free time. What little free time we have that is. You know, with all of the new technology coming out that I need to have to keep me happy and safe and popular, I've been having to work a lot to get all the things I need, let alone what I want. To be honest I've even been working some weekends, both days. I guess I see it as an investment though, cause thats all I can really do with the extra money I don't have time to spend, invest it. I figure it's a good way to keep the market strong, so when I'm ready to enjoy it, my money will have really added up for me.

The Time is Now

The time is now to use our resources
To battle the oppressive and depressive forces
The principalities holding you under control
Enslave your body and now they're going for your soul

The time is now while we still have strength
Before they once again try to stretch the length
That they're going to make you have to jump
So you can feel ok with your self when you're taking a dump

The time is now to get back to Nature
Bomb Wall Street* with nerve gas so we can get on with the future
They're keeping everything held back at a global pace
But haven't realized yet that they're winning the wrong race

The time is now to find other options
For where we want our world to be
To stop trying to win by betting on auctions
While we watch the bids we aren't free

*please take this for it's figurative and not it's literal meaning, well, at least if you are a cop.


If they want to track everything that I do then let them
I'm gonna take my fears and I'm gonna forget them
I'll just make everything I do be something that I want people to know
And I'll give all those creeps a real good show

I'll keep track of everything that I do too
And post it on the internet to show to you
So you'll watch my back while (hopefully) being amused
And I'll tell you where I'm looking to find the fuse

So at least if we're losing we can learn to fight it
Maybe dig up some good evidence that might ignite it
Conjure up old spirits by learning some history
So we can be warned of what we shouldn't repeat

And it might tip us off on what's happening now
The part the history books haven't gotten to
If like me, you aren't willing to wait and see
Just pay attention and we might write history


I imagine all the time we could have had, all the things we could have done, and all the words we could have spoken. I imagine it all so vividly that i sometimes forget that we never did it. I think back to the few brief times we just sat back and talked and realized that those were the only real connections we had in all that time we spent together, keeping ourselves occupied. We both had a lot to say, and maybe it didn't ever really need to be said. I hope it didn't. I hope it was enough to just be near each other, in mutual understanding. I hope it was mutual for you too, and that it's not just a delusion i had to convince myself i was satisfied. I'm sorry for any opportunities i missed. I'm sorry for any chances that i wasn't brave enough to take. I'm sorry to you, and i'm sorry to the whole world that had to spend another moment suffering at the sight of another lost connection. I wonder at what point is my imagination a tool and at what point is it a burden. Will i use it to foresee possibilities and devise new plans, or will i instead just use it to keep myself satisfied, content in the memories of what could have been, but never can be again. Have i gotten so good at covering the places in my mind where there should be regrets that i don't even see the new ones coming. Is this satisfaction if i can convince myself it is? Is this independence if there's no one around to tell me it's not?


When you would shed a tear
but feel too weak
Call to your last strength
and stand up and speak.

I promise
for every critic you fear
There's hundreds more listeners
waiting to hear

Waiting for you
to inspire their thoughts
Because true inspiration
can't be bought

Some ideas won't make it
some might be proved untrue
These are experiences
for learning for you.

But each idea
that causes another to think
Will forge in the great chain
of agreement a link.

You won't remember your tears
with this thoughtful throng
But might shed some for joy
as you rise up in song.

A song that cannot
be written or produced
But will happen on it's own
by peace induced

And the more that sing
the greater it'll be
Diversity will create
more harmonies

For what monotone moron
would march to just one drum
Staying that course doesn't
seem productive or fun.

So stand up together
and examine the lies
And over the dark looming clouds
we can rise.

Selling Subculture

Subcultures absorbed for marketing schemes
Carefully crafted so you feel included
You're gaining acceptance, or so it seems
But when you go mainstream you get diluted

Dissolved, and packaged up for resale
Your heroes sell out but they say it's okay
Your history becomes a pop culture tale
As the agents convince you it's the American way


Why do we detest the wooded lot
Might be the only green space we've got
Poison or pull the flowering weeds
But never plant any better seeds

The grey bearded man with ragged hair
We treat as if he isn't there
But it's not the bent old man we hate
It's the inevitability of his state

We look to the future but refuse to see
The crooked path of entropy
With glasses bought from an optimist
Will we see the signs of the apocalypse

Fuck Space Travel

A fallout shelter,
A backup plan
In case someone drops a bomb
If the big one hits
Or a fissure splits
We've got somewhere to run

The future is quickly approaching
And catastrophe is encroaching
So zip on your spacesuit and fuel up the ship
Cause going to Mars is a real long trip

After Captain Kirk and Han Solo
You'd be crazy not to want to go
But I'm so sorry, I should have told you before
You're fucked dude, you're way too poor

Space was a just dream of yesterday,
When we started to see the damage done
And knew it was a downhill trend
There has to be another way
We can't just turn and run
This is not yet the end

If we can't find peace and happiness
In the world that created us
Can't find comfort with all this land
Just imagine what a mess
Life in Martian utopias
With barely enough room to stand

The Sick and the Tired

Stealing sons from family trades
For grand financial escapades
But no one can calculate the cost
Of our heritage getting lost

Foreigners fill the labor gaps
As Americans grasp their own boot straps
And hop around in a leapfrog race
Building a tower, but forgetting it's base

There will be no child left behind
They'll all be taught to march in line
And to buzz like every other worker bee
Continuing to pollinate the economy

But how do you feel when the beekeeper comes
And takes all your honey to buy more guns
Haven't used your stinger yet? Now's the time to try
Buzz your wings and start to fly