Fear it

Fear it, my spirit!  Oh don't you come near it!
Quake when you hear it, this cautioning lyric.

Toe the line

Sans you and due to all my sin,
They would never let me in.
Heaven don't admit my kind,
Since you, it's true, I toe the line.

Desire

Grant me that which I desire.
Let me stand next to your fire.
Like the moth unto the flame,
Immolate me just the same.

Between

To find the exit from this loop,
I think I'll follow only truth.
A man, he can, be proven weak,
And truth eludes the one who seeks.

Pursue and search, it's best to find.
Where X is marked, it's best to mine.
And treasure surfaced from between,
It shimmers, yet cannot be seen.

Table land

On bended knee you pray, "Allow my feet to stand,
On purchase not too high, as long as table land."

The City's Heart (a duet)

There's no need to ask around,
There ain't no love in heart of town.
No love in this, the heart of city,
Tenants, we, are much too gritty.

There ain't no love in city's heart.
Before it's dark, you should depart.
No love in this ole place, my town.
You really should've asked around.

Ask or don't ask? Dude, which is it?
Can't a man come for a visit?
So that I may come and see,
This town in all its finery.

Yet you treat me like a foe,
And say that I just ought to go.
No love is here, in heart of city.
Tenants, you, are ones to pity.

Don't come here making all that noise!
These boroughs you had best avoid!
You caught me on a patient day,
But you had best be on your way!

The sun is setting oh so fast.
And through a night, you cannot last.
We tenants here are tough and gritty,
Need to be in this, my city.

Bravado proves your words as bogus,
'N too naive to even know this.
Tough as nails, that makes you weak.
When king.i.am, things weren't so bleak.

There was love in these here streets.

These boulevards were so replete.
Our elders with respect we'd greet,

'N thoroughfares pulsed with the beat...

Of one this drum of world renown.

The rightful ruler wore the crown.

And there was love here all around
Before you kids took over town.

Dude now you are much too old!

These streets have always been this cold!

If this the place you're truly from,

You'd know there's never been a drum.

There was sun before the rain.

Before you came, there was no pain.

Pretenders to my rightful throne.

How derelict my city's grown.

You think you stay, you're passing through,

And I will be outlasting you.

Bones decay and turn to dust,

But golden that which does not rust.

When king.i.am, we weren't so weak,

We bowed our heads and swept these streets.

We weren't afraid they'd call us soft,
‘Cause paper always beats the rock.

I'll take my scissors, cut you up!

You know that I don't give a #@$!

You don't know how much you care,

So scared that others won't beware...

And see your bark is lacking bite,

I did not come here for a fight.

The toughest shell, proves weak inside,

True strength is that which softness hides.

Because I know the king.i.am,

And you're a boy, pretending man.

And hoping no one would find out.

That in these streets you're losing clout.

It's almost time for me to reign,

And that's the reason that I came.

Restart the pulse that should resound

The love in this, the heart of town.

Try and try, yet often sigh:
On the flesh we can't rely.
Spirit willing, sinews weak.
Yet corpses we too often seek.

An errant thought

Be cautious with an errant thought,
it may become a flame.
Good and bad, it matters not,
it burns them all the same.
The fire of ire, it does conspire
you free it from its cell.
Caution spoken, lest ye open...
Ten thousand gates of hell.

Eternity

Glitter and sparkle does not make it gold.
And though it be precious, your hand may not hold.
Intangible things can weigh far more than wealth.
Like friendship, like trust, like security, health.

But even these things, their own time they may have.
And when they are bygone may make us so sad.
Ephemeral does not eternity make.
To realize this, let not eternity take.

Beholden

And though next to our hearts we hold them,
To their whims, we're not beholden.
In the mirror, look and and see,
No other's image, only me.

Greedy

A snake too ambitious, too lusty of zeal,
Tried swallow an elephant for its next meal.
The greed of men's hearts is exactly the same:
"A little bit more," leads to something insane!

Trending Vultures

May draw a crowd, but won't be real;
The truth ain't got no sex appeal.
Whatever's trending here today,
Runs afoul of the way.

Where vultures gather, there's a corpse.

I speak in metaphor of course.

The buzzards revel, this is true,
But carcasses aren't made for you.

Salivating over flesh
I guess we're not evolved just yet.

'Cause pictures show she's clearly boss,
Though all of them are photoshopped.

Whatever human hearts adore,

Brings craving, greed, and wanting more.

Like a snake's ambitious zeal;

Tried make a pachyderm its meal.

The real is hackneyed, stale, a bore.

And mining it is such a chore!

And though it's naked for display

It's in an unappealing way.

The truth is there, but buried deep,

Underneath this garbage heap.

And those who spend their days to mine,

Most say that they are wasting time.

The hip and trendy pass it by,

Deride it as some loathsome lie

To rob us of our daily fun--

That dangerous, half-cocked, loaded gun.

The pious, they deride it too.

And say, "Now that just can't be true.

What you say, I can't relate.

Your words they do not resonate."

But death don't vibrate 'long with life.
Who resonates with sacrifice?
Thus Heaven's kids are too elite;
What child don't prefer their sweets?

Of rich and famous, who's fulfilled?

The trending trough is empty swill,

With sugar added for the taste,

But hunger it can never sate.

And then there's that which we recoil.
Pump fists and cause our blood to boil.
That which makes us so incensed,
For justice or some recompense.

But Jesus said to turn the cheek,
Who really wants to be so meek?
I'd rather show that I am strong,
And point out others when they're wrong.

Hypocrisy is carcass too?
Well, what's a hypocrite to do?
Spend my time to mine the real?
The truth ain't got no sex appeal.

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Inspired by this bible passage in particular verse 28, I know I know, it's Buddha one day, Jesus the next, I can't help it that they're both right :)

The Hateful Eight

The Buddha spoke of hateful eight
Suff'rings bound to us by fate
By virtue sole that we are born:
The awful eight that all men scorn.

Birth and sickness, age and death
Would be enough, but four are left:
Like distance from the ones you love,
And closeness to those cursed above.

Next, not getting what's desired,

Sparks bitter, burning, blinding ire,
Reverts adults to toddler days
With childish tantrums then displayed.

The last one may be too abstract:
Five aggregates which root they lack
Awash and drown the core of One
Prevent returning where we're from.

The Buddha spoke of hateful eight
Suff'rings bound to us by fate
And one who dares to seek release
May find the birthless way relief.

Estranged

When last we met, remember when?
We were as the closest friends.
But now were awkward and estranged,
How I wish for this to change.

The few, the proud, the meek, not loud,
Who dare to run not with the crowd.
The road it narrows as you walk.
Do press on, and do not balk.

A Mother's Home

Though moon may rise, and sun may dawn,
There ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
A light had left the world that day
When my mother went away.

Certain not where now she roams,
But house has ceased to be a home.
Such greed to ask for her to stay,
'Cause all that's birthed must pass away.

This I know, but don't agree,
My mother I'd still like to see.
And have her say, "Son, later call,
I'm watching Duke play basketball!"

And how she'd cackle when they'd win.
I'd love to hear that laugh again!
Or have her look at me and see,
What I'm thinking wordlessly.

And when I'd left, she'd then explain:
"Leave that boy, he's not insane!"
But now she's gone, and there may be
No one left to vouch for me.

If not grandkids, least a wife.
But I'm not sure that is my life.
Sans marriage and sans progeny:
Mom, are you still cross with me?

Elsewhere does your spirit shine?
Do you still claim, "That boy is mine!"
Without your body, can you see
What it is we're ought to be?

Did you escape the flames of hell?
If secret, you don't have to tell.
But I've been wond'ring where you stay
Ever since you went away.

Woke

I heard a fun rumor, I heard you was woke.
And when I did hear it, I thought it a joke.
If ever I did meet a man more asleep,
I'd beg for a shovel to dig him six deep.

Relativity

There are two sides to ev'ry story:
I've only room for one.
But not the left or right beside me,
The monad came from none.

So don't you tell me he said she,
I'd really pay no mind.
I'm neither with and nor against you,
Blessed, but not with time.

My manner coarse, and less than humble
Perhaps, it's true, I'm rude.

Rough edges meet and grind together

And that's what makes them smooth.

You want to tell me right and wrong

And plead and prove your case.

If earth agrees, but Heaven not

Then time, oh what a waste!

You want to tell your side of things,

But me, I just don't care.

Agreement of the world entire

Can't free us from this snare.

The popular appeal, it comforts.

But only for a time.

And boosts the ego high and mighty

And distant from sublime.

So labor why for counterfeits

And not the real of gold?

Convincing of the human minds

Cannot release the soul.

So labor thus and duly dig

and all it comes for naught.

Will agreement of the world entire

Soothe your bones of rot?

There are two sides to ev'ry story:

I'd rather hear the one. 

Don't speak of relativity,
I'd rather cleave to none.

The future, I've seen it, it's wanting me dead.
And will not be stopping 'til dry I be bled.
And Time is most callous as follows its course.
And Age fights Disease to call dibs on my corpse.

The Company Store

I loaded my quota of six more than ten.
I asked the accountant what more I owe then?
He said my days living have added one day,
But as far as my debt, I have much left to pay! 

T'was sixteen tons loaded and nothing to show.
Saint Peter, don't call me, you know I can't go.
My burden, my toil, this fruit-empty chore,
From pledging my soul to The Company Store.

And Jesus, I love you! Yes truly, I do!
And Buddha, Confucius, Muhammad, Lao Tzu!
Your saving is precious, abstract, and sublime.
I'd follow you duly, but haven't the time.

'Fore dawn, after dusk I thus shovel this coal,
I haven't seen sun since was sixteen years old.
Eternity beckons. Too bad I'm not free.
The Company Store is the owner of me. 

The slaveowner over my world-weary soul.

At the devil's direction I shovel this coal.
My debt keeps accruing by day and by night.
My karma, I beg thee relief from this plight! 

But karma lacks mercy; it's callous, and cold,

And takes its delight from the tears of my soul.

But the Five have compassion, and point out the way.

I'd like to walk on it, but debt I must pay.

My owners take payment from anguish of soul.

But had I some currency lustrous like gold,

To persuade them to grant me some breadth of reprieve,

To earn them more nuggets and win my release.

I loaded my quota of six more than ten.

I asked the accountant what more owe I then?

He said my days living have added one day,

But as far as my debt, I can never repay.

I presented a nugget, asked, "What trade you for?"

Said, "A day of reprieve from The Company Store."

"And if day after next, I present you with two?"

"Another two days you would certain accrue."

'Cause sixteen nigh worthless, but one nugget though...

Saint Pete, don't forsake me, one day I may go.

A mission, a calling, a fruit bearing more,

That wins me release from The Company Store.

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I haven't written in a while.  I started out  with this just being a poetry cover of Sixteen Tons, but then as I was writing it, it became it's own thing entirely.

Johnny B Goode

Oh Johnny! Oh Johnny! Oh won't you be good?!
You never do aught that you ought, that you should.
There's one thing I ask that you grant, if you would...
Thus your mom named you, so Johnny B Goode!

Countdown

Tickety tock!  Goes expert clock,
Which keeps the time, counts down to naught.
Frightening those bereft and fraught.
Tarry ye not.  So says the clock.