Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

The Power of Moods

*Thank you, friends, for bearing with me during my short absence. I'm fine. All is OK. Ready for more of my twisted logic? My computer picks up snickers!
A woman wakes from a restful sleep. She smiles at the day ahead and rises from her bed. She finds that the cat has peed in her good shoes. The milk has gone bad and her hair won't lay right. The neighbor kid has siphoned her gas-again. The jerk in the Hummer cuts her off-again. A glance to the mirror tells her she looks like shit-again. That song she hates comes on-again. That smile to the day is long gone as she flips off the kid with too much volume and base. She will deal with many different people today who will deal with many different people today. And so it goes. This is the stuff of moods.

I saw in the light of yesterday
a world of darkened gray,
where animation fails the trick
thunder rolls to silent shtick
and lightning fades away.

I saw in the gray of yesterday
a place of hope and prayer,
where stars blaze up in perfect flame
lovers love in unblushed shame
and kindness finds the where.

I saw in the chains of darkness
a place where sorrow holds.
where visions take to terror,
screams take hold the bearer
and robbers line the roads.

I saw in the glory of midnight dreams
a place of joy and magic beans
where colours know the tenth degree
the things you want are all you see
and failure lies beyond your means.

I’ve known the roads
of darkened ways

I’ve worn the wings
of sun drenched days

a flurry of this
and a dash of that,
a smile, a frown,
a tip of the hat

a wave on charm
a fist in hate,
a deal in seal
a bad first date.

a thousand things
can turn the tide
and churn emotions
we cannot hide

and I to her
and her to you
and we to they
and on
and on
and on

they say,
a butterfly in Brazil
fells trees in the North of Spain
which shakes the earth
in San Diego
and a man in Kalamazoo
kills twenty
with his bullets.

it all goes back to the butterfly.
it’s always those damn Brazilian butterflies.