The Circus

Do you enjoy the circus
the barks and the boos
coming from the audience
and the birds that watch
from their perch high above
the tents and the tantrums

I've seen the riddles they've created
and read the books they've written
stories of aging golden geese
and the genius of chickens
pecking at yarn and silver
in the cages of universal fears

The circus is holding open auditions
for the part of entertaining slaves
as the public pays to watch
using currency carved out of rocks
only to shatter when traded
for trivial treasures invented
by the genius of selfish demons

Aphrodite

Did you find yourself
beneath the shadow of the moon
amongst the coral and the current
the tides of fortune swept us
past the pillars of prosperity
and the honesty that we once shared

Soldiers wear their wounds proudly
despite the pain built into such scars
fighting for a better tomorrow
and tomorrow has bloomed into today
and today has reached for the stars
washed in with the rains that followed

Beauty hiding in the trees of the jungle
crushed underneath dead leaves
searching for the goddess Aphrodite
and other mysterious deities
that once gave man fire for warmth
and knowledge to gain worn freedoms

Ghosts don't stop haunting
the people who wronged them
when they were alive and able
to smell the scent of roses
made into fine perfumes
only to be worn by wolves

Did you finally find yourself
on the beaches of the Mediterranean
as you crashed into crystal clear waves
and toasted with finest wines
once given to the goddess herself
as a token of her treacheries

Empty Clips

Can you hear the drip?
That thunderous drip
that rips from the mists
and trickles from parched lips
the drip, the drip, the random hits
of power, pills, and prophecy

Can you see the drip?
the warriors, and the pimps
the homeless and their limps
that sit at the bottom of sunken ships
pieces of golden triangles
and the fragments of parchments ripped
from the headlines, head cases
and the God we all miss

Can you paint the drip?
the eagles and the empty clips
that belonged to guns and sons
that ran so far, and came up so short
the drip, the drip, the winnings and the chips
while angels and demons continued to flip

Can you hear the drip?
the gifted and the hearts of wimps
blasted into the atmosphere on the backs
of space shuttles and personal troubles
reflected in ancient herbs and surreal trips
built into fossilized bone and plastic hips

The drip, the drip, the legacies we have equipped

Fin

A Song For Our Fathers

Give me a dusty pencil, I beg you
and black rocks from the bottom of the sea
and a night to sit and ponder
the song that trails on the tip of the wind
a tribute to the truth and the troubled

this is a song for our fathers
a melody born in the hallways
of simple folk and simple kings
fishing nets placed around their necks
never filled, but never quite empty

lost trails and something a bit more complex
lives painted and processed again and again
this is a song for the snapshots of the past
and the ripples reaching for the future
written in fables and fragile moments
whispered from the tips of our tongues

Fool's Song

I could walk a million miles
only to stumble upon such a wreck
half hidden in the blackest of sand

I could swim a million strokes
only to discover an island of blue
guarded by poisonous sea snakes

I could strum a million tunes
only to write a song fit for a fool
whistled by the simple hearted

I could do all this and more
trying to find a pot of lucky gold
that manifests itself inside us all

Eden

Amber, where would I be without you today?
I often stop and ponder the past and the future
scribbling away onto a tablet that resides
behind the touch of these trembling fingers
and the poetry that escapes my lips

My heart was broken, my spirit was crushed
and you found me as the dawn breached
the horizons of such bittersweet melodies
reflecting the pains of Greece and her tragedies
written for the ones who never made it home

Piece by piece you put me back together
until I could clearly see with my own two eyes
the reflections of the hidden rivers that run
when your lips touch me the way they do
causing frozen lakes to melt into warm streams

Love is just a word; isn't that what some say?
But, they haven't ever crossed your path
hewn out of the sides of dark mountains
guiding tired travels away from treachery
and into the green filled valleys of Eden

Revolution

Start a revolution with my pain
I dare you to do such a thing
ignite the fires of change and chance
scattered through the country
like hidden pieces to a shattered crown

Indeed she's got what we came for
from across the atlantic only to end up
at the edge of the pacific staring
off into the distance watching cannons
fire into the crashing waves as they taunt us

The engine seems to be a bit rusty to me
so lets fire up the pistons one by one
and watch the warmth melt away
frost to reveal forgotten fingers
that once pointed at evil shamans

Start a revolution with my pain
I bet you don't know where to start
but luckily for you I have the answer
so let me guide you to the brink
of her surreal smile and her gentle touch