never just a dream

freedom begins when you say no
at its heart is the refusal to obey
not to do what others might say

they cannot ever tell you what is so
theirs is by no means the better way
freedom begins when you say no

if hell's your destination then you'll go
there's no better time than right today
though you with whips they want to flay
freedom begins when you say no

roads going on

no matter just how hard they make the climb
all that we must do is work and endure
the highest mountain will be passed in time

all who toil know they bring home grime
they know that it's not easy to be pure
no matter just how hard they make the climb

those who can speak those who can't just mime
uncertainty is normal the wise are never sure
the highest mountain will be passed in time

we know that moments come that are sublime
and others that demand we be demure
no matter just how hard we make the climb

to worry every day we're past our prime
is something for the which there is no cure
the highest mountain will be passed in time

not one of us will wait to hear the chime
the fruit we seek has yet to be mature
no matter just how hard we make the climb
the highest mountain will be passed in time

at time of dusk

the world we want seems slow to take form
little by little we add to the blank space
this heart will not be taken by swift storm
the world we want is slow to take form

hour by hour each works to set the norm
the honest answer belongs in its place
the world we want seems slow to take form
little by little we add to the blank space

that deepest

if all the stars went out at the same time
we would not think it any great surprise
nor would we think it any sort of crime

and yet the shock would stir even the wise
to wonder at the world in which they sat
and force the foolish with haste to surmise

that change was coming here in nothing flat
ways that had functioned long no longer worked
and not a single one could now stand pat

in those thick woods what monsters now lurked
that would come out and drive each from home
the ones who struggled and the ones who shirked

the moon itself seems absent from the dome
all the above is cloud and there's no light
to comfort those who stay and those who roam

in deeper darkness we will fear each night
the power to save ourselves we cannot flex
not one of us but knows that we've no right

to all the claims that we have made to vex
the silent entities that we just know must dwell
in all those places we could not annex

the day has gone when we could buy or sell
those ordinary facts that we'd acquire
by means that none of us would ever tell

we'd smile behind our hands at the dumb buyer
who'd think that they'd received some kind of gain
and from that sort of trade we'd never tire

instead we find ourselves out on the plain
alone and helpless facing the deep dark
and wondering just how far spreads the stain

the truth of nature is that it's no park
the world we have was never meant for pride
we think it deep yet shallow is our mark

not one of us that's here will end the ride
just where we want to be we will dismember
the ones who seek to keep an intact hide

and our own fire will burn down to an ember

el tuerto es rey

riddles are simple
the answers may be complex
hope is the problem

in the summer night
frogs croaking behind the house
expecting little

above hungry birds
wait in full expectation
they soon will be fed

nature the gambler
cares nothing for the living
but loves the great game