To keep the still in frames

2009-11-27 14.44.21

 

I take more pictures in winter, to keep the still in frames
I sometimes glimpse a bit of spring, through melted snow and flames

The chilly sent of icy rain, hangs throughout the town
The frosty breath of frozen lungs, while snow is falling down

I see a river flow beneath, coursing cold and runneth green
I see a North-bound, rusted train, barreling down with steam

The glow of warmth, bright with light, there’s one I call my home
I pray for the broken, ragged few, who spend this night alone

Where would I be, without this place, into a man been made
I often doubt and cry aloud, hoping again that you’d save

It’s Christmas time in Cincy-town, soon a city colored white
I will rest and spend good time, with my family here tonight

Bless us, Lord! Keep us safe! We fall down on our knees
We pray for much and forget to thank, but now we’re begging please

We are your kids, we hide as such, breaking all the joy you built
We placed on him all the shame, but still carry around our guilt

Take it all! And throw it out! I’ve been hanging on too long
Hope you’ll accept these feeble words, that now come out in song

I am one man and a broken one, you’ve asked to humbly serve
I will fail and fail again, because I haven’t got the nerve

The season is right and ripe with joy, only good comes from above
I pray for heaven coming down, I pray for your unfailing love

Cedar Falls

It’s so American it hurts your teeth
So laid back but without the beach
So 1950s that Elvis ain’t dead
So Midwest see the back your head

Still

Why this love for music
But a voice no one loves?
Why do you want me to play
When no one else does?

Why do I write poetry
That people don’t read?
Why do I pretend
You’re all that I need?

Why do I have talent
That sits on the shelf?
Why do you keep thinking
I don’t need any help?

Oh, where do you go,
On nights like last night?
Where do you go,
Unmistakable light?

How come it’s so hard
To get out of my bed?
And yet even harder
To get out of my head?

I practice and practice
For a day that won’t come
I fight and I fight
For a war that is won

Of pains, I know many
I seem to master them all
These pains ne’er subside
Not a single one small

You have made me a glutton
For sorrow and grief
A prisoner of pain
A sadness motif

And yet I get up
As each night dies
Still I get up
And still I rise

The Warrior

The warrior will die one thousand deaths
Just to die one thousand more
For the cause that began as breath
For the cause that was born

I have seen the fearsome warrior fight
Many battles won and lost
He will not cease at good moon’s night
He will not stop for icy frost

He will never tire of wars ahead
Too much blood to be spilled
There’s so much blood that lines his bed
So many husbands that he’s killed

I know the fearsome warrior well
Bound to battle and never free
The lust for blood, he’s under spell
I should know, the warrior’s me

That lustful man is me