Tag Archives: fly

Where Did it Come From?

It enters into the storm and brings out what you never thought.
Arguing within yourself, knowing it can encapsulate more than feelings.
A single pull of the hand.
Grasping onto a thought that was never there, but here it is.

Reflecting on past choices.
Hearing words spoken that let you move on faster.
A gift given from thoughts that never were thought.
Singing at the top of my lungs a tune that was never written.

Help me sing the songs that are to come.
Let my head connect to my heart, and create.
More of a style than a metaphor.
A style that integrates a little of me and hopefully some of you.

Look at the landscape of the stars.
The ones that shine less bright than the others.
The ones that might be brighter if we all got a little closer.
Or maybe they really are dimmer, and all they need is a song to make them shine brighter.

Let’s take that thought and turn it into something worth while.
Like a cup of tea on a rainy day,
Or holding someone close when another had something bad to say.
Let’s take a walk and learn by the river, like what it means when we are together.

Staying in touch is harder than you think.
But please, let’s try even if we think we are weak.
For this thought that I did not think, will be there more than a week.
Take a deep breath and let me know, how far you are willing to go.

I’ll lend my voice if you lend me a tune.
I’ll lend you my hand to make it through.
Singing at the top of my lungs a tune that was never written.
Remembering a thought that I never had.

It is time to go and with that a goodbye.
A single eye that sees past the fly.
The fly on the wall that turns into a guy.
That has too many thoughts and songs, but no matter what he has to try.

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Morning Sickness

“Every lament is a love song.” ~Switchfoot

He stands on the edge of his mind and his heart.
Largely distracted by what is going on around him, and what is going on inside. 
Which one will win?
He knows, but he doesn't feel like telling and one. 

A morning sickness that has nothing to do with pregnancy.
A sickness developed from opening his eyes and realizing he is alive.
Stricken to his sheets, the ones that feel like home.
For the floor is lava and o scary to venture into alone.

Ducking and diving in and out.
Avoiding the fire that's coming from all around him.
The gun sight is set to his heart and others to his head.
One good shot and everything goes away, from them or even from the one he is carrying.

But the truth is he doesn't want this to be the case.
I don't think any of us really do.
But sometimes this world seems to be too much, and all he wants is to be somewhere else.
With someone who will never forsake him.

He sits alone on the porch that looks out into the yard.
A storm is brewing and the lightening is coming at regular intervals.
The wind picks up and the trees start to sway to the beat.
Clap clap, bang bang, flash flash...boom. 

His funeral is tomorrow and not an eye is dry.
Closed casket in the morning and sandwiches with aunts in the afternoon.
"We should get together more often." They will say.
"What an awful way to get the family together."

Leaving behind the mother and the father.
A part of the world ripped away by one single act.
Friends that loved  him, now on the floor wondering what they could have done better.
Wondering what they could have done to help him fly...