o nameless day

drizzle on the leaves april seems so dark
after bright march and cool replaces warm
the season's strangeness has become the norm
uncertainty is always nature's mark
the world's raw jungle not a tidy park
we look upon it and wonder at the form
that life has taken and we watch the storm
the power of weather is at its most stark
so dull the green and yet so very light
as drizzle falls replacing heavy rain
the day is long and we may see no sun
nor stars to dazzle us through the short night
sleep comes reluctant given our strong pain
but time continues it never will be done

Seeing like a shrub

Real men perceive their truth only in war,
peace is for women, homos, wimps, the weak;
the world is for the strong, not for the meek;
this is the logic of base cowards in a bar.
A man may be a hero, in the privacy of his car,
in his mind he's achieved the top, the peak;
to limit his power, to stay calm, that is bleak
and will not lead us to the furthest star.
So order, peace, and justice are a waste;
they don't allow the hero's light to shine
and manhood's not allowed its proper place.
Instead let's value pride, urgency, haste,
those things that let me claim the world as mine;
that's what's important, and damn the human race.

not now the proper time

outside the wind and rain are making sport
inside i'm cold and tired and seeking rest
my chief desire's to be at some warm resort

the wisest now refrain from holding court
they know that no one's at their very best
outside the wind and rain are making sport

name one thing that would be of finest sort
and someone will denounce it as a pest
my chief desire's to be at some warm resort

there's much in life we wouldn't now abort
but some things need to be within the vest
outside the wind and rain are making sport

not much to do so we won't be caught short
we huddle here inside our own heart's nest
my chief desire's to be at some warm resort

now as we make our way to the safe port
i've found the answer to my longest quest
outside the wind and rain are making sport
my chief desire's to be at some warm resort

the sheep look up

who claims to serve may also claim to lead
but which is which may not be always clear
the ones who make the rules are never fair
and word too often substitutes for deed
we turn for help in moments of great need
yet once we're settled cannot breathe the air
thing may be even but that's very rare
in the right place the rose is just a weed
the giant may be strong but not too wise
we follow for we cannot make a path
our feet may stumble on that upward way
we turn into a flock in our own eyes
bleating and moaning substitute for wrath
and we are lost before the end of day

for a future graduate

in every life you come across some spaces
you wonder at them things you cannot know
roads along which you will at no time go
you'll know of things but will see only traces
there will be other than the familiar faces
you'll know of rivers but never see their flow
the signs of impact but not at all the blow
you'll know of powers but never see the graces
life's got its twists and turns you'll one day find
what was once certain is no longer true
the surest thing has vanished and the cost
of ordinary doings can baffle the finest mind
still all things that you need may come in view
and you will never be among those lost