The meaning of life is simple

I will give you a hint!

Life it self is opportunity

Now that I know people read my stuff, I will post more often. All the best, and thank you for reading. But don't spend your day on the computer, get outside its great out.

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The fruit

Hand picked for perfection

Roses hold nothing

To the very essence of the decision

To work toward peace, in his eyes

Becomes the truth

Our petty convictions, destruction

Our lies become fact

Our little artifacts spins the web

Drips from the cellar walls

Like black death

And all of us

Never know when

The time will come

When ever single one of us

Can live, side by side

In understanding, and peace

 

 

 

 

Possible, without any notice, it began

First came the Earth, rich and full

Second only to none

Our bones ache between the rest stops

A drink, quick think, as if all we were

Are merely asleep

To wake, under the thick fog of

Realization, understanding, as marbles pass between us

And we only care about the silly string

Once more, the legless crawl past the walking

All we have, at the end of the day

Desire

 

Earth, all we have

With our misconceptions

Our lies

Our addiction rattled lives

 

We wonder if this is all, if this is all we have

If there is nothing but broken dreams

In the clouds

Silver gleams

 

And in just one day

All can change

From razor wire

To the very things that breed hope

From guns

To the laughter of children

 

We will seek the very things that give us opportunity

Opportunity will seek us out

We will become

Love, hope, peace,

Its our destiny

 

In the middle, between us and them

The first kiss, love at first sight

Embrace them, and give them a place to be safe

You see he really will not remember any of this

Tucked in to bed, an angle to say his prayers

A little cold to keep his nose running

When he is sleeping

The whole world sits in front of him

And in your hand is how he will accept it

In your world, some things he must never know

Others

The sweet smell of flowers

Warm blankets on a rainy day

Mom and Dad

And all of us

 

I feel alone; my actions had made it so

Some of us, do not like what I write

But I ask for the test of time to judge

 

I do not ask for you to read my poems

Or have any one in my family pay any attention to them

Or even to understand them

 

I write for myself, I write to keep my sanity

Remove us all from the cause

And make us think, even just for a second

 

That just maybe we can all make a difference

 

To look past the shadows on the cave

And run wild into the sunlight

BESLAN

 

3 Days they kept them, 3 days they kept Gods

children

 

The synthetic, murdered 171 of them

200 hundred, Father’s, Mother’s, were killed

 

And the ones who lived, remember their friends, on fire

 

Dismembered at a drinking fountain, by the synthetic

 

I see the children, robed of everything

Learning to cope, but still reliving the tragedy in play

In sleep, some have no rest

In their dreams

 

The pictures of their Mothers being killed

Become the same pictures that rest on their mantles

 

For them, innocents, a fragile gift

Reached the Earth, in tears

 

All because of the synthetic

 

 

 

 

I walked past the twisted wreckage, looking for survivors, but there where none, the skin melted off their bodies when the gas caught. The steel made its way through them, like nails in a blender.

It was quick, not much time to feel anything, out of no-where, it was over.

Personal effects, what was left anyways, was thrown all about the cornfield.

Stocks, smoldering in the days sun, beneath my feet, lives, toothbrushes, pictures, passports, luggage. They never had a chance.

 

From day to day we all live life as if we are going to be around forever

We kiss our children good night, never for the last time

The though of not being on this Earth the next day, never crosses our mind

We do, what I call the dance, the tricks we play on our selves to let us exist

We forget that the human race is not the whole of eternity, we make decisions that most of us, almost always take for granted, we decide to live for that day

We live for that moment, when your son, or daughter walks for the first time,

You live for, when your husband or wife, says, “I Love You”

We live for the time when the sun set, kisses the sky with orange and red, blue in the foreground

You live for the times when you have a black out, and you pull out the candles

Nine months later there’s three of you

I live for all the things you live for

I live for today

 

I walked past the twisted wreckage, looking for survivors, but there where none, the skin melted off their bodies when the gas caught. The steel made its way through them, like nails in a blender.

It was quick, not much time to feel anything, out of no-where, it was over.

Personal effects, what was left anyways, was thrown all about the cornfield.

Stocks, smoldering in the days sun, beneath my feet, lives, toothbrushes, pictures, passports, luggage. They never had a chance.

 

From day to day we all live life as if we are going to               be around forever

We kiss our children good night, never for the last time

The though of not being on this Earth the next day, never crosses our mind

We do, what I call the dance, the tricks we play on our selves to let us exist

We forget that the human race is not the whole of eternity, we make decisions that most of us, almost always take for granted, we decide to live for that day

We live for that moment, when your son, or daughter walks for the first time,

You live for, when your husband or wife, says, “I Love You”

We live for the time when the sun set, kisses the sky with orange and red, blue in the foreground

You live for the times when you have a black out, and you pull out the candles

Nine months later there’s three of you

I live for all the things you live for

I live for today

 

Just between us, the wicked little problem

 

Psychotic gray matter, Deep depression, rips the life from you

 

The cancer eats you. The Aids keeps on making you sick

 

The asthma steals your breath. He keeps on hitting you

 

She keeps on with the lies. They don’t understand, never will.

 

And from the light, comes you, born with disability, raised with love

 

Passionate to others, and not to yourself. In a room, in the house

 

you read your short stories out loud. You listen you your music,

 

you write your poems, you draw from time to time. Your

 

nightmares do not go un-known, you are not alone.

 

In the dark, your pain, you cannot tie your shoes, you moan.

 

In the sun, you cannot walk straight, you are not alone

 

When you speak, nothing came out, and they all think you are idiots

 

When you are silent they think you are looking for pity.

 

And when you gather enough courage to speak, you write

 

Thousands of us write, some good, some not so good, but we Wright

 

Even when we are crazy, sick, blind, dieing, we still Wright

 

In that we must gain strength. We are not alone.

 

Tears flow from my eyes when one of us is lost, as the tears run

 

down my face, past my chin, down my nose, and into my hands.

 

On to this page.

 

We are not alone, we can’t be, we are never alone, and we can’t

 

be. Some one somewhere loves us all, all of us.

 

Embrace this life, as long, or short as it is,

 

Some who are not loved, or can’t love, need our help

 

And one more day, and night, and then from the pocket of

 

stranger. They put a spell on you. And for the first time you love.

 

 

 

Our lips rest, caught up in the stars

There weight in golden brown

The young, can’t read, Wright

Forced to seek opportunity on the dark side of life

Trading their souls, for a shot at safety

To belong, to fight, to know about murder

First hand

And we sit, with all our addictions, and issues

On the fence, as we buy the stars for the ones we love

Walking on a cloud of ignorance, our cell phone rings

We really have no idea

 

 

Sleeping, under the bridge, flip past the murder

As if the blood of the others, soak your feet

Questions of faith, brought on by what some of us see

Chosen to run with the horses, to guide us toward peace

Left to our own devices, our stricken hands

Work into the night, running the demons away

For one more day, one more sun set

One more sunrise, one more moment of laughter

Convinced this thing we call life, truly is a gift

Walk past all the faces on the street, and know this

Sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters

Some one, somewhere, loves you

 

 

 

FOR ALL OF ME, WAITING FOR THE SUN TO TOUCH THE TREES

THINKING OF ALL THE SHITY THINGS IN THE WORLD, THAT ARE IN DESPRATE NEED OF POLISHING

 

THE RESPONCIBLITY FOR OUR OWN ACTIONS, BEING A SLAVE TO A SUBSTANCE, AND KNOWING ENOUGH TO TAKE A BREATH

 

THE KEYS THAT DO NOT FIT, ARE FORCED INTO THE LOCKS AND GIVEN ALTIMATEMS

 

I HOPE TO APEAL TO YOUR HUMANITY, ONLY LIP SERVICE AS IT IS,

I HOPE WHEN YOU WALK OUTSIDE TODAY, YOU KEEP IN MIND THAT THE WORLD MAY HURT, BUT YOU SEE TODAY IS YOUR DAY, YOUR DAY TO BEGIN CHANGE.

 

ALL OF US, BEING HELD ACCOUNTIBLE FOR OUR GOVERNMNETS CHOICES

 

IS IT TIME WE HAD A VOICE?

 

 

 

 

 (Polishing a terd) taken from Della

IT RAINED NAILS TODAY, THEY TORE INTO THEM, SPLITTING THE BONE, AND CRUSHING THE FLEASH

 

CHANEL 3…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

CHANEL 19…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

CHANEL   29…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

END IT

IT RAINED NAILS TODAY, THEY TORE INTO THEM, SPLITTING THE BONE, AND CRUSHING THE FLEASH

 

CHANEL 3…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

CHANEL 19…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

CHANEL   29…………IT RAINED NAILS TODAY...

 

END IT

It is not weather or not you believe in God, rather, Does God believe in you

Watching, without being able to help in any way

As if their brains have been pan-fried

From time to time you hear them

“I need to put up my Tent”

40 below

Four feet of snow

“I need to put up my Tent”

 

Drip down from the mushrooms

Skipped past the LSD

Fell by the white stuff

Stepped over the crystals

Weed never really inspired anyone

 

Instead, your nightmares become as real as black ink

You may have managed not to do the alterations

But it seems you don’t need them

You can experience them all on your own

 

Genetics make you crazy

And the ball drops, and the world seems black and white once more

Where all you did was be born

 

You need to fight, or disapear from reality

Become sane and live, or let the nightmares win,

And slip away from the ones you love

Dround in your own mind

Put to rest at 20, and burred at 72

What is fundamentally wrong with this world is, simply; the synthetic always tries to stack the deck.

 

 

Peeking through the small hole

 

Into a world where peace is never uneasy

 

And eggshells do not stick to your boots

 

Always thinking, this is a place I would like to go

 

To set up a family, to raise my son

 

To let him gain the value of peace

 

To let him know he is capable to change the things he needs

to

 

To make the angles jealous of him

 

And the ask God to give me the ability to provide such an environment

 

Where we all can live without the blood on the TV, without shutting it off

 

And always know

 

We all have family, we all are apart of it, we all must do what we can

 

To make this plant a softer place.

 

For my little Caleb, and all others

The place between the ability to act, and the ability to witness

Some of us find that it is not what we think that matters, but what we decide

Below all ambitions breeds’ desire, seek opportunity, reach out to humanity

Fight for the freedom to be free, not the freedom to be ruled

Do not fight with bombs, or guns, but fight with your pen

Understand that the world hurts more in places, than what we see day to day

Children suffer, starvation, war, who will be their voice

Who will stand on their behalf?

Who will give them hope?

Who will reason with the devil, to put down its weapons?

All of us

If you have read this

You just did

And it starts

 

 

I am working on a paper that will be finished in the fall. It is about the meaning of life, and the social bond desire has on humanity. To properly understand the meaning of life one must look at all life, in search of common ground to base a theory on. Even a virus, to cancer, to a tree, to humanity, all are life to a certain degree and cannot not be over looked. It will be extensive, do to the five years I have been compiling notes, and research on the subject. I do think it is fitting to complete this project, to use the above as a stepping stone to peace. Humanity has its desire, but the question I am asking is, at what point do we begin to destroy our selves for short-term fulfillment, and destroy the very fabric of Global community. I am not offering a quick fix to global peace, however I am presenting a starting point to understanding conflict, and how best to resolve issues of power distribution, conflict of desires.

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Deep in side a little boy sleeps

Under the covers, peeking out between the naps

Blue eyes, melt my heart, a little person brings me

Sunshine on the darkest of days

Some want the baby to be a doctor, a lawyer

I want him to be happy

To be loved

To see the light in the darkness

To know about change

A love that cannot be shaken

Or mistaken

 
Little fingers that grasp at me

A smile

 

And my promise

                         LOVE

 

 

 

 

 

The human mind, trapped between the isolation of our metaphysical

Told lies to get by

Make us think about how great our world is

When we are blind

When we only see what the TV tells us

So we can understand it

Understanding, death, violence, and war

So we can understand that it’s ok here Canada…………America

So we don’t see the hell around us

So the myth can take one more in

Tie a blind fold over their eyes

And a pocket full of carrots

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In this place, wild with dreams that can not be
A story takes place
Found in the sand
Black gold, a deal with the devil
Blood soaked gas tanks
Agenda to rule the world
To only have one synthetic?
To stack the deck with fear
No one will stand up and speak
For a bullet will find their chest

 No one will become the beginning
Only apart of the end

 Culture, with jeans
History doomed to repeat
Rubber stamped society
Rubber stamped expectations

Half way between reality and a dream
Force everyone to become a consumer
Buy and sell

Slavery

Magic Stones

 The trading of values, the exchange
Of desire, the red door, indeed, has become

 BLACK !!!

 

 

 

Angles are for all of us

They keep our spot when things get crazy

 

Angles watch our little ones when they play outside

They know everything about us, and never think less of us

 

Angles stay close, when our nightmares leap from our dreams

They walk with us, speaking only to our hearts

 

Angles understand, and always listen to our prayers

Even when we are alone

Even when we think we are not praying

Angles softy kiss our boo boo’s better

 

In my hand, the world rests its sleepy head

Kissed by now, all of us sleep from time to time

Dreams that reach into the future, and thoughts

That take us to hell and back

 

All of this madness when our eyes are open

Carry the sum of all of our actions

Every ethical purchase, selling blood in coffee cans

And we fight for our right to dream

 

Our dreams are not ours to kill for

Tomorrow does not exist

Its not just coffee

And some of us would murder just for entertainment

 

In my hand, the world rests its sleepy head

Under a tree, God waits to find anyone who

Wants to save this pile of dirt

Who, wants to help what is here, today

 

 

 

Well I am back, this time I am in my office in the basement. I have everything set up, and its great............I do however think I am a GEEK!!!!!!  How can setting up a TV, VCR, N-64, Computer, music keyboard, and a little radio, make me happy! :)

In the dark, where the monsters go

Under the moon, sleepers dream

The most beautiful things

From children, to the ones who are missed

From memories of the lighter days

Far removed the gray

 

Next to most of us

Love reaches into our minds

The Sweet kiss of our roses

The sent of happiness

The beacon of hope

And the mess we leave behind

 

Little ones, who scamper past

The tricks in life that brings us to our knees

The eyes that see so little

Seem to see everything

We are blinded, by our memories

And guided by our wisdom

Held hostage by our simple desires

 

Loved as if we were all little

 

I remember when I was a little sk8er kid, we were allowed to skate anywhere we wanted, and if by chance there was a place we were not suposed to sk8, we would go back in the wee hours of the night, well morning, and rip it up. WAX THE CURB !!!!!

I was to told by my boss, Big-MAMA, my wife, she is having a baby, that my blog still is a little guy in the basement type thing. She said I need to talk about my day more, to share my life with you guys. Well I have not come to a decision to do that, post my life all on the net ready, to be read by anyone. I still have not figured out how to post pics yet, but I will soon. So if anyone wants to tell me how that would be great. I will post a little bit about my life now.

 

I have a disability, and stay home to clean the house, pay the bills. I am going to be a stay at home Dad. I did volunteer with a mental health clinic for some time, but grew bored of it quickly. There was nothing for me to do really, but I do appreciate the experience. Once some one called in and asked what to do if they wanted to donate their brain to science. Good thing I did not answer the phone on that one. I workout three, or four times a week, but it does not look like it. I love to read, the only fun reading I do is Steven King, the rest is academic stuff. I did go to Trent University, and want very deeply to go back. The learning I did there was amazing, both in the class room, and out. I am working on a paper about the human condition, meaning of  life, the power construct, and the global environment. Hope to be done in a few months. I have been working on it for 5 years now, and I have finally made it to the point where I a sure about the content to write it. I also might write a book about my experiences, being sick and not so sick. It would be quite the tale. I would write it from my perspective, at that time, the strangest experience I have ever encountered. The shity thing is every one who I told the story to, has said that “Its funny what your brain thinks” …………..nice!!!! Well not everyone, some people just listened, that was really nice. You see when you are mentally ill, or have been in the past, any wired thing that goes on in your life is attributed to you being a crazy ass. Not my wife and my mom, a few others, tho, they are great. But the kicker is, The book on my experience can be fiction, or non-fiction, but I am not going to write it just yet because I do think more is on the way. Not from being sick, but as of right now the ending needs more. Well There you go, I blogged, I kinda liked it.

Cheers