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 the line
is what defines

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

Instead
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:
'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
together, spinning the tales of history.