Q1.  Modern Society
    Islands in the Void, Pillars of Stone, Diatribe,
    Individuals, The Leading Edge, Coagulation,
    Triumph Over Reason, Close to the Bone

   Q2.  Freedom
    The Eternal Yoke, Sane in an Insane World,
    My Mind is Free, Tiananmen
    Naked Eyes, Destiny, Defiance

   Q3.  Growth
    Landmarks Left By, Rites of Passage, Chasten Not I,
    Fears of Finding Out, Momentous Moments,
    Moments of Repatriation, Repose, Afternoon Tea,
    Less than Whole, Top of the Hill, Growth

   Q4.  Lost & Far from Home
    The Immortals, Quagmire, Circumstance and Chance,
    Befogged, Holes in Darkness, Saviors Unseen,
    Accursed Ere

   Q5.  Cosmic Order
    Eclipsed, Mortal Rectitude, In Unison, Prismic,
    Perfect order, Suspension, Illustrated Time

   Q6.  Individual Outlooks
    Full Force, Consciencious Objectors,
    Flibbertigibbet, Hollow, Reservations,
    For the love of humanity

   Q7.  Love and Tenderness
    Promise Me, Alabaster Plaster, As it is,
    Give Me Love, Never Far,
     -Absence, Presence, and Promise Fulfilled-
    A Single Rose, Four-leafed Clovers

   Q8.  The Bleeding Crowd
    Sword of the Slight, Without Warning,
    Scares of Wont, Revolting, Ends and Means

   Q9.  Old Days
    Lexicon, What Was, Sinnew Sonnet,
    Cauldron of Fontaine, Vestabur

From different notebooks at approximately the same time...
    Moments of Repatriation
    Growth
    As it is
    A Single Rose

      Beat fast oh heart of endless motion
        that carries us through the shrouded stillness
       of the omnipresent cold eternal night
         which holds countless souls captive,
        entombed within its endless fiefdom
         smothered in angst and robbed of sight

      Move quickly you who dare to think
        that you have any relevance to it all
       or it to you or you to what is right
         lest you may learn that nothing matters
        to life which you may cherish or despise
          and to death which merely continues this plight

      No future is real and the past slips away,
        not wanting to be remembered or relived,
       not holding onto you nor letting you hold it
         as you are perpetually thrown into nothingness
        and then let to grasp at something
          yet that something never enables you to quit

      Constant scurrying with nowhere to go
        is the empty fate which befalls us all
       and holds us in the wake of endless questing
         after truths that lose their import
        as easily and as often as we lose our lives
          without diminishing our spirit's vesting

       Outside of the mainstream
         the ship of my soul drifts slowly away
        cast out upon the uncharted seas
          of isolation and unmet needs,
         cast out only for being different
           by being deficient in an aesthetic way
          carrying a face doomed only to displease

       No one speaks of it,
         of my incarcerating disfigurement
        which inevitably will draw their eyes
          as I invade the confines of the sight
         of the people in a picture perfect world
           grown accustomed to uniformity
          as enforced by the sword of the slight

       They smile as they turn away
         and say they are sorry but no,
        they do not think that I am the right one
          to suit their needs or to be of any help
         while continuing the unspoken catharsis
           of the submersion of the unseemly
          who cannot by numbers defend themselves

       Living the life of a pariah
         is a harrowing yet illuminating way to be
        as you see a great fear hidden safely away,
          a fear of ugliness or of imperfection
         in people too immersed in superficiality
           to know or care deeply for the minds within
          and blind to prejudice's subtlest manifestation

    Everyone anxiously jumps upon
      an antique train called Lexicon
     riding forth steadily toward the sun
       carrying all and sparing no one

    Out from the multitude of paths
      it surges forth leaving all else past
     accommodating all wherever they need go
       and showing them places only others know

    Those who are hurried share space
      with those who care not for a frantic pace
     as they sit together riding the same line
       both reaching their destinations on time

    It brings together all and lets them share
      each other's truths and each other's cares
     as they enjoy the ride in comfort and style
       becoming closer with each passing mile

    On into the sunset Lexicon rides
      and at each stop its prominence presides
     as each young generation climbs on board
       eager to know the perspectives it moves them towards

    Gonna buy me a top hat
      to match a silk suit and tie
     Yeah,  I'm gonna hit the big time
       and I'm gonna hit high

    High up in society,
      that's where I'm gonna be
     Them pretty stars from Mars
       will each be lookin' up at me

    From the back of my Cadiallac
      my life's bound to be a ball
     Abusin' my wealth while crusin'
       every way to pay for it all

    With pink champagne and a sweet pink dame
      I'm gonna run ragged until I drop
     In luxury's lap,  I'll take a nap
       and pray all the play never stops

    Even my sleep won't come cheap
      as satin and silk cradle me tight
     I will lie with my ego held high
       and dream of all I cannot hold in sight

     Fade to black,
       blind to all the facts
      we live in darkness
        and curse the light

     Raise the pious high
       then drop them from the sky
      while we eagerly await
        their flight or obliteration

     Desecrate the scholars,
       let them see ignorance's power
      and make them fear the inmates
        who dare to run the asylum

     Cut the godhead's throat,
       destroy their myths then gloat
      as we dare even praise ourselves
        for being less believing than the rest

      Toward injustice
        I instinctively set my course
       for with all that I am and have
         I shall meet it head on full force

      Gaining precious momentum
        each moment of my waking hours,
       I search to find the optimal path
         to make even the leviathans cower

     Powered by love
        my life seeks to enshrine compassion
       and make the battered Earth
         into its most bountiful bastion

      The only moment
        that will ever mean a damn
       is the one before collision,
         before I cannot change what I am

      In a cataclysmic implosion
        my life undergoes a diffusion
       but the impact resonates on
         as I pass from my illusions

    Sun so light
      as to drift effortlessly through space
     you teach me
       that size is no measure of grace

    Sun so great
      as to pull nine different worlds near
     you show me
      common attraction is why we are here

    Sun so strong
      as to make countless lifeforms thrive
     you give me
       the very means to stay alive

    Sun so intrinsic
      as to make your absence seem unfathomable
     you make me
       find dependence more palatable

     I have a vision
       of how the world should be
      so leave your dull existence
        and come to be with me

     I can let the light of truth
       shine upon your life of gray
      Stay with me and pray with me
        and I'll show you the holy way

     Do not listen to any others,
       they will fill your head with sin
      and you will condemn yourself forever
        to promote the devil's kin

     I shall need endless sacrifice
       to show me that you are true
      Give me the minds of your children
        and together we will save them too

     Give me all your time and money
       for God's work is never done
      as you are but children of the light
        and I am the eternal sun

     Question not my commands
       and you shall never become lost
      for an immoral life in heaven
        demands your life here as its cost

         Where is baby
           where can she be
          She's run away to find herself
             wherever that may be

         She's too young
           a song barely sung
          now she is just a picture
            waiting to be hung

         Her future's on dice
           naive in a land of vice
          prepared not for what is there
            among men like mice

         No longer lame
           by assigning blame
          I light a torch in the underworld
            hoping she'll see the flame

         In the dark
           I grow faint at heart
          as one crumpled little body
            rips my world apart

    Promise me the one thing
      that I know you can never give
     Promise me that you will love me
       for as long as I may live

    Make me believe in eternity
      and that it belongs to you and me
     Make me believe in fate
       and that we together must be

    Give me countless reasons
      why I should endure life's pain
     Give me a little sympathy
       if you find it driving me insane

    Show me that life is wonderful
      for often I forget that it is so
     Show me that I can trust you
       so my faith can have reason to grow

    Take me further into your heart
      than even you yourself dare go
     Take me in your arms and hold me
       and convince me these feelings you know

   A thousand books say nothing
     of the things which cannot be
    A thousand lies say everything 
      about truth and honesty

   From whence life comes
     tells not its values or sums
    I know ten thousand things
      but not what tomorrow brings

   These things which make us wise
     are not those which one can define
    It is instead apprehensive attitudes
      which designates this state of mind

   We carry with us blank sheets
     to list each fact we meet
    yet no device is there to record
      the abstractions we forever move towards

   A language is a precarious lie
     which tells us we do not understand
    Understanding is only a means to tell us
      that some unseen force is in command

   That is the lie which gains our trust
     and makes us believe we are piles of dust
    but once our lost culture comes of age
      ignorance will mark the presence of a sage

      You make you and I make me
        and together we make a community
       No longer one or two,
         now there is three

      Two bodies holding three,
        you and me and we
       No longer do I act upon
         all that is good for me

      Beyond what is me
        another drive I came to see
       The goals we hold
         together in unity

    As I lie back
      with my back pressing upon the ground
     and my face turned toward the sun
       I turn back the pages to the days
      when this fruitful inactivity
       seemed to be the greatest fun

    Nothing to do
      and everywhere to go
     and nothing but time to keep me back
       made me resent every door
      which kept me locked out
        due to age or experience that I lacked

    Banned from the real world,
      I came to appreciate childhood's own
     which made no claims upon my time
       and gave me countless days as these
      to wonder as long as need be
        to firm my supple mind

        Please,  tell me what life wants of me
          for I honestly do not know
         I pass through the flow of events hesitantly
           as I know not how else to go

        Desperately,  I cling to this and that
          hoping some meaning will shine through
         I love and then I lose the feeling
           knowing love is only something to do

        Dispense me some answers for I cannot think,
          blind and bitter over how I should be
         A nefarious gray cloud obscures my insight
           into anything which I wish to see

        This contemptuous fog I languish in 
          was made by my own eager mind
         It hastened after a bevy of fledgling truths
           leaving all frame of reference behind

  I care not for your battles
    against ignorance, injustice, or Man
   Leave your wars outside my doorstep
     for I disdain the ideals you command

  It is not for me to make the world
    fit any notions that I conceive it should be
   freedom needs not to be fought for
     nor can it be won by you for me

  All shall always do as they see fit
    and nothing for me is the best choice
   I seek not to encumber or enlighten
     nor to exaggerate the import of my voice

  Those who seek to emancipate all
    instead come to enslave as a consequence
   To force any agendas through intimidation
     is to doom its intents to irrelevance

  So waste not your inscenuous words on me
    for I have outgrown need to promulgate airs
   I limit my ambitions to only myself
     and I leave others be to cultivate theirs

    An indomitable ray of hope and fulfillment
      passes through the prism of time
     spreading wide a multitude of individualizations
       painting the mural of life in its prime

    Colors which are pleasing to the heart
      stand contrasting and complementing those that unnerve
     for each part's beauty never seeks to overpower
       the incomprehensibly vast mosaic they serve

    Images of all that we know of or dream
      float fancifully reflected in a panorama of space
     playing nightly to a captive audience unseen
       trying their best to savor a feast they cannot taste

    The brilliance of the light cannot be known
      as it far surpasses that which can be seen
     and the mysterious refractor defies definitions,
       not to diminish the wondrous pictures that gleam

    We remember things which have never been
      if we live long enough to see life repeat again
     thus shattering our illusions of perpetual freshness
       in that a limitless number of nows are begun
      as we pass from one to another just begun
        only to find that both ring out in unison

    Infinity is finite and randomness predictable,
      for just as the mind finds the unknowable irresistible
     we break the facade of the indefinitive world
       merely by using the means of our memories
      to eventually come to see that spacious duplication is the key
        masking the underlying yet undeniable uniformity

    Originality is but a hopeless and arrogant dream
      as countless lives verbatim repeat the scenes
     that we dare to call our own and hold dear
       for that which is us is merely a stone
      randomly thrown and standing alone
        yet existing nowhere to be known

        What's done is done
          so why can't we
         just let it be
           and free ourselves
          from under its gun

        Let the past go past
          while we stand
         free of its hand
           and exalt the ways
          of the iconoclasts

        Break stride from the tide
          that prescribes the ways
         we must act or stay
           and enter a new dimension
          where guidelines cannot survive

        Angels don't dance
          with handsome strangers in the night
         who feign interest and dole praise
           as a means of seduction

        Angels sit on clouds
          far above the din of a hapless humanity
         drawing the admiring eyes of men
           and raising hopes fated to die

        Angels come to earth
          on occasion to elevate the soul of mortal man
         taking forms of infinite beauty and grace
           designed to reflect the rewards of love

      The time has come
        to lay our bodies on the line
       and proclaim to the world
         our desperate state of mind

      Fending off hopelessness
        we reluctantly dare take a stand
       against the corruption
         that is once again in command

      Armed with only ideals
        we challenge the guns of power
       to waste their bullets on us
         for at last we will no longer cower

      What will come of this
        we doubt we shall live to see
       but we hope that the lies will end
         as they tell how we longed to be free

      Let lose the tiger,
        we stand ready to bear its rage
       for until we confront it
         it is we who live in a cage

   What was was to me
     what it was because
       I could be
         what I was but
           now I see
             that what was was
              what was me
 

    Pointless as it may seem
      we were born into an elaborate dream
        once dreamt by a fool

    Mystery is always in the air
      to challenge perception's confident stare
        at the shadows of ideas

    With every breath we take
     we pray that we shall never awake
        for we know we are naught

    Play the part of a fool
      and forsake all for want of a jewel
        only to become stone

     Sinking fast in the mud
       of economic misfortune and
      the misery of poverty,
        I laugh last at those
       who ennoble the sufferance
         of the artisan at work

     Seeing faith prescribed for hunger
       and wealth given to reward viciousness
      one soon regrets having sight
        or a mind at all with which
       to dwell upon such tainted truths
         like those that I have seen

     Madness reigns and wisdom shudders
       and respite waits outside the door
      of the Great Hall courting disaster,
        as soon the glittered ganions
       will feed off the carrion
         of lost causes like me

     And as the crest of humanity
       sinks slowly into the sludge of refuse
      while the ungainly chart the course
        for a ship of states set adrift
       upon a sea of eternal greed,
         shed a tear for lack of rain

        In medieval days of nightmarish lore
          when the unspeakable occurred
         far too often for any to keep score
           there was a abomination vested
          upon a town which knows no fame
            save for being the birthplace
           of the Cauldron of Fontaine

        Made from the iron of thirty swords
          that took the souls of scores of men
         the blackened pot would feed the hoards
           of those who served the darkness
          and reveled in the terror vexed upon Man,
            taking great pleasure from each atrocity
           their demonic leader would command

        The deeds of this troupe defy telling
          without disturbing the sensibilities
         of those who find righteousness compelling
           so it should suffice for me to say
         that the results of their debauchery boiled
            in an evil mixture in that cauldron
           as the dignity of humanity was forever soiled

        The village once known as Fontaine
          was peaceful before those days,
         before the devil called Raven came
           in a firestorm of reckless abandon
          asking for followers to seize the day,
            to profit from the confusion,
           to take all and make heaven pay

        In desperate times such as these
          men were all too willing
         to follow one who did as he pleased
           fearing neither the wrath of God
          nor the formidable armies of kings
            that were heralding forth another age
           for which chivalry valiantly sings

        Twisted was Raven's maniacal mind
          bent upon a life everlasting
         and so unrelenting was he to find
           the key to achieving this hopeless dream
          that he dared leave no stone unturned
            until immortality was his prize
           and its secrets were at last learned

        Fools always follow where greed leads
          and in those days of long ago
         that road was known as alchemy,
           where science and mysticism joined
          and produced a mutated child
            which died attempting to tame
           a world where blind instinct ran wild

        Raven was convinced that this was the way
          that he could at last be immortal
         and forever postpone his judgment day
           so the dreaded cauldron was conceived
          to concoct that elixir of eternal life
            made from the fluids of life and death
           taken ceremoniously with a lethal knife

        Blood flowed endlessly for years hence
          as more villagers became convinced
         that the Angel of Death could now be fenced
           leaving them free to live lives of lust
          without fear of any final hereafter
            until one by one they all met the blade
           to the tune of Raven's menacing laughter

        Decrepit and fast turning gray,
          Raven realized his failure far too late
         as he too lived to see the day
           when he was chosen as a sacrifice
          to feed the younger who gained claim
            upon his legacy of unbridled brutality
           justly giving him taste of the same

        Though they all now wear death's chains,
          as a monument to those dark days
         an undistinguished black pot still remains
           for on a museum shelf behind a glass case
          sits the Cauldron of Fontaine
            as a relic from another world
            achieving Raven's pitiful aim

 Of all the great legends
   which ever were
  no name rings truer
    than that of the mighty Vestabur
   who gave all for nothing
     chasing humanity's forgotten cure

 In the land of Vikings
   during the most violent of ancient days
  this strongest of warriors wept
    for man's seemingly eternal malaise
   which pitted man against man
     and goodness against stronger selfish ways

 Finding none who were worthy
   of his inestimable prowess of force
  he then sailed off alone
    letting fate decide his course
   driven by a sense of uneasiness
     and determined to find its source

 For fourteen lonely days
   and fifteen turbulent nights
  no glimpse of sunlight broke the clouds
    and no sign of land reached his sights
   until at last upon that final day
     he saw mountains of astonishing heights

 The mountains reached right to the sea
   barren of any form of living thing,
  so empty and gray and desolate
    no comfort did its appearance bring
   with such an endlessly imposing facade
     that even the sea birds no longer did sing

 Hungry and weary from his journey,
   Vestabur hastened to go ashore
  but little respite did he receive
    as his hands became bloodied and sore
   trying to climb those rugged cliffs
     which appeared to go on forever more

 After what seemed an eternity,
   he reached the top of a peak
  only to be confronted
    by a winged creature that could speak
   which had hovered before him
     and asked him what he seeked

 A dragon some would call it 
   though dragons were not so small
  for this scaly quite ugly sprite
    stood no more than three feet tall
   and because of its tiny wings,
     one wondered how it flew at all

 Vestabur thought for a bit
   and then said, "To end my pain
  for I am tired,  cold,  and hungry
    and am quickly becoming lame
   as I have traveled long and hard
     only to find nothing gained."

 After a long pause of suspicion
   the creature looked wary and replied,
  "A bed and shelter and food,
    these things I can easily provide
   but surely thou travels not for these
     for everywhere these comforts reside."

 The warrior let out a thunderous laugh
   and said, "Thou art a wise sprite
  for seeing deeper than I might wish
    but thou art most certainly right
   in that I seek relief of a deeper pain
     than one can name or hold in sight."

 He continued, "If thou wouldst comfort me
   with the provisions that thou didst say
  I would be in thy gravest debt
    and shall be most eager to repay
   by naming my pain as yet untold
     if it pleaseth thee for me to say."

 It was early the following morning
   when Vestabur awoke invigorated and refreshed
  that he told the sprite his woeful tale
    of how the worst in Man destroyed the best
   and it was then that he heard the prolific words
     which would set him upon his greatest quest

 The creature spoke in a low solemn tone,
   "Thy vision is true and thy heart is pure
  for there is a plague of greed upon the land
    by which Man is poisoned and cannot long endure
   but all hope has not yet been lost
     for there is a place which covets the cure."

 "Devils be damned and heavens praised,"
   Vestabur abruptly and joyfully exclaimed,
  "A thousand blessings be upon thee
    if thou wouldst only speak the name
   of that place which has come to possess
     such an auspicious claim to fame."

 "Mubarakk," the winged creature said
   as it began to fly out of his sight,
  "Sail in the direction of the setting sun
    for a hundred days and nights,
   turn back for no one and nothing
     and never give into your fright."

 Slowly Vestabur made his way down
   the dangerous steep mountain's edge
  working his way away from the house
    that the creature had built upon a ledge
   with his mind dwelling upon the words
     the strange creature had last said

 The fury of the seven seas
   hath no fury like that of a man possessed
  to achieve that one goal or reward
    that he knows in his heart to be the best,
   not for himself but for his whole world
     and Vestabur was driven by nothing less

 Through the harshest of storms he sailed
   unrelentingly plodding on toward some place
  where he knew he would be gravely taxed
    in a test which could affect his whole race
   so he bore the worst the sea could give
     and he swore he would not act in haste

 During a rare moment of peace and calm
   he happened upon a lush tropical isle,
  a garden of endless sensual delights
    radiating a joy that could make the devil smile
   so it was here that he stopped for more supplies
     and a place where he could rest for awhile

 Words cannot describe the beauty of that place
   or of the friendliness people there had showed
  upon the storied stranger weak and frail
    half starved and half crazed by his chosen road
   to rid the world of its evil and its pains
     that some unseen god or demon ungraciously bestowed

 But here there was no hate or selfishness
   and the world he left behind seemed to fade away,
  just a nightmare that lingered in some twilight time
    forgotten but not leaving its importance betrayed
   as it clamored to him in his restless troubled sleep
     and its resolve in hope there too vice could be allayed

 And the love that had been denied to him before
   came to him in that wonderful enchanted place
  in the guise of the beauty Mirimaney Kondessay
    who embodied the purest of virtue, love, and grace
   with the glimmer of a thousand stars within her eyes
     and a radiance as great as the sun within her face

 Here was contentedness and here was untold joy
   which he had never dreamed could be before
  yet deep within he knew he'd never see again
    for he knew that this place was merely a door
   to be passed through and left behind forever
     and that more pains of the past lay in store

 Though this hurt was far deeper than any others,
   Vestabur left quietly during one calm night
  again sailing toward the land of the setting sun
    cursing himself for being too weak to ignite
   courage enough to bid farewell his new bride
     and still be able to continue on with his plight

 Five weeks hence, his supplies again exhausted
   he found another island to look for food to eat
  but no land of paradise was this evil isle
    as death lay everywhere eager to meet
   this giant of a man who dared enter the domain
     of the Banu tribe with painted hands and feet

 In the shank of the evening the blood bath erupted
   as Vestabur awoke to them attacking him one by one
  yet each time he triumphed, another foe lay vanquished,
    and over a hundred lay dead before the dying was done
   when ten men rushed him cracking his skull
     for as the mighty Vestabur fell the battle was won

 When he awoke he found himself tied
   upon a yoke of precious metals lined with jewels
  in the hall of a gigantic luxurious marble palace
    among sculptures carved by the finest artisan's tools,
   displayed along beside them atop a high ledge
     being gawked at by a court filled with noble fools

 From his perch he could look down and see
   the story of the kingdom unfold beneath his eyes
  as the monarch sat upon a throne of the finest jade
    doling out the most incredulous of lies
   eagerly consumed by a nation taught only obedience
     caring not that they had no will to compromise

 Thrice daily he would be washed and fed
   serving no more purpose than that of a living statue
  declaring to all the power of the emperor
    which his bound and helpless state showed true
   yet only his body lay confined and constrained
     while his mind raced to uncover any opportunity cue

 For the first time in his victory filled life
   Vestabur was held prisoner like some animal in a cage
  removed from the freedoms he had always known
    and daily he held witness to his mounting rage
   at the atrocious abuses of power going on below
     which were affecting him more than he could ever gauge

 As he saw even mere children condemned to die
   for deeds done by their parents or other kin
  he vowed he would rid the world of this tyrant
    before resuming the task long ago did he begin
   believing nothing he could do could ever surpass
     this victory over viciousness which he had to win

 After the trials which always ended up executions,
   Emperor Kyrik would stand alone in this hall
  admiring his statues and opulent ornaments
    gloating over having the power of death over all
   and one day he spoke to Vestabur shackled high above,
     "Thy head from thy neck might as easily fall!"

 "Thou wouldst suffer far more than me
   for I knowst a place of untold treasure,"
  Vestabur answered,  "and beauty far greater
    than could give such a beast as thee pleasure
   for the wealth of this place surmounts all 
     that thou has is this hall or could measure."

 "And all I must do to have this marvelous wealth
   is to set thee free I supposeth,"  the emperor said,
  "yet I be not the fool thou thinkst I am
    for only moments later I wouldst surely be dead
   though I thinkst thou speaketh the truth
     so I shall send out my armies to search instead."

 Moments later the emperor returned to the hall
   where Vestabur stood consumed by his flaming hate
  for the man who now predicted complete success
    in plundering all wealth as his armies would devastate
   all peoples weaker be they near or far away
     and as he said so Vestabur realized it was too late

 Suddenly he was struck with a vision
   of the island of boundless beauty and grace
  being raped of the riches it shone forth,
    the kindness and the love too strong to erase
   would doom them to be destroyed one and all
     as the vipers poisoned that wondrous place

 As the emperor laughed far below
   Vestabur saw him directly beneath the ledge
  and summoning all the strength left in him
    he tipped the stone stockade using his foot as a wedge
   tilting it forward inch by inch as his foot crushed
     until at last the stone and he tumbled over the edge

 He awoke upon a gallows before a crowd
   shouting curses at him for killing the emperor,
  no joy did they have for being set free
    as they began to stone the mighty Vestabur
   and the reasons why he craved that death
     were so tainted by this he could no longer remember

 "These fools shall never become free,"
   Vestabur thought as he prepared to die,
  "for they haveth no meaning or goals in life
    save for those given by some ruler up high
   and such as being as me wouldst never be
     forced or force others to live out such a lie."

 Bracing himself for the final yank nearing,
   he felt proud for having the chance to have been
  and he feared not death nor pain nor loss
    for he knew that this was not his true end
   because his quest was still not near resolution
     meaning he still would be though knowing not when

 He saw the coming events proceed in stills,
   like photographs or like cards taken out of deck,
  when the trapdoor fell and chaos ensued
    while the rope snapped close around his strong neck
   seeing lightening strike the crowd around him
     then seeing the whole scene fall to a distant speck

        End of Part One

   Speak and they will scorn you,
     teach and they will warn you
    not to spread such seditious lies
      if you hope to remain free

   And you are free,
     free to be as they may be,
    free to do as they please
      and to think what they deem proper

   So it is,  whether at the point of a gun
     or the chill of the wind as they shun
    those whose notions lie outside
      the bounds of which are tolerated

   Efforts to educate are lost
     as they tear you down to pay the cost
    of keeping the walls of ignorance standing
      and send you off for rehabilitation

   Laugh hearty and play the knave
     as you carry your insanity to the grave
    unable to unburden yourself of truth
      that you know in heart yet dare not speak

     Somewhere in the mists
       of the obscurity of eternal time
      there are havens of clarity
        where one regains pointedness of mind

     Who knows when or where
       these oasises of meaning may lie
      of if we stumble upon one
        as we lumber forth to die

     Phase or phrase of
       some ever lingering truth
      seems not upon the hour
        of looking forlorn at lost youth

     Ghastly gazing into space
       seeing nothing but the shadows retreat
      away from consciousnesses excursions
        into the domain of the incomplete

     Stand solemnly in the gaps
       of understanding and peace at heart
      for fortune will not find you
        from the very moment that you start

       Sooner or later
         each being comes to see
        that others fates
          rule its own destiny

       That this very self
         is a part of a greater plan
        soon follows from this
          and leads one to understand
         that the very truth of being
           lies in a conjunction of all hands

         Twisted machinations
           and blackened gaits of fate
          cringe the stout messiahs
            who lie prostate at the gate

         Dread and fear seeps deep
           into the gullible pores
          of the wretched masses
            locked behind death's doors

         Ignorance clamps tight
           biting right to the bone
          of those who brave the storm
            of fury at the unknown

         Reason veils the sorrow
           and blunts the brute force
          of the tempests unchained
            bound to the bloodiest course

         Dawn comes not early
           and fortune nary at all
          for once dread is dead
            it is exuberance that palls

         Head over heels
           then heels over head
          we tumble through
            life's open places
           with jumbled eyes
             and jumbled minds

         What's hither to
           and what's yonder fro
          mixes into a blur,
            a montage of happenstance
           that only we can sort out
             or care enough to shout about

         This plus that
           then those minus we
          leaves nothing but faith
            in circumstance or chance
           but neither matters not
             for once both are spent
               all that was has went

         Without a clue
           as to what is true
          we stand tall
            before the marvel of it all

         Touching the earth
           we end the search
          for rock to grow
            in a torrential flow

         Hope will fly
           beyond even the sky
          making us learn
            how to once again yearn

         Eons long ago
           we once did let go
          all of the sorrows
            we will know tomorrow

      My mind is free
        and though this world
       may damn me and cage me
         no one shall ever destroy
        these new horizons I see

      Free at last
        to roam free of fences
       that bind all others to the past
         out of fear to know their souls
        and the implications awareness casts

      Never again shall I
        be confined by convention
       or walk the line of socio-moral lies
         for I have seen the open fields
        where spontaneity needs never die

      Enjoy your solemn walls
        for the false security they bring
       by closing your mind off from the calls
         of dying ideas and crippled dreams
        suffocating in cloistered halls

       All that moral man
         may ever hope to achieve
        exists upon the whim
          of the great god Destiny

       A notion of total order
         born out of a chaotic world
        mesmerizes us still
          as its legacy becomes unfurled

       All that is and will be
         shall forever be in its debt
        and all who bow before it
          are released from guilt and regret

       Yet believers benefit little
         for freedom pays the cost
        to keep the idea alive
          even as life itself becomes lost

        Angel in the darkness,
           guardian of my spirit,
          show me the way out
            of my troubles
           by bestowing unto me
             your pristine vision

         Lead me to a safe haven
           far from this bleak place
          which forever taunts and tries
            to break me
           by lying and stealing all
             that I hold dear

         Show yourself unto me
           for even as I am nothing
          but an open book to those beings
            such as thee,
           I alone cannot uncover
             me beneath the dust

  The motions of the universe,
    so damningly precise and congruent
   mark the seasons of my life
     upon an eternal timepiece
    created by the spinnings of stars
      and mimiced by our watches gears

  But what of me,  I shout
    letting my frustrations spill out
   to become absorbed by the blackness
     of the peaceful autumn sky
    which never breaks its stony silence
      to comfort or admonish me

  Left to wonder or to die
    by divine providence or cruelty
   I stand alone too empty to cry
     for everyone and for myself
    fated to be kept from understanding
      the purpose behind their pains

  In conquest or perhaps resignation
    I tune out the vastness before me
   as I slip further into unconsciousness
     falling asleep under a cloudless sky
    for the indomitable straits of time bind
      enough to destroy my hopes of understanding

  Too satisfied to change
     myself for what I am not,
    I calmly fall through time
      fearing nothing as nothing fears me

  Too uncertain of myself
     to dare impose myself on others,
    all else save but a few
      pass by free in a world without me

  Too tired of living
     yet reveling the effervescence of youth,
    I am an amalgamation
      of beginnings and of the end

  Too immature still yet
     to accept being easily forgotten,
    I am a parting shot
      at an indefensible unsure world

     Eaten away from within
       by termites and parasites,
      we rot from the core
        and let the infection fester
       until it spews forth
         from our appearances and actions
        reaching the light of day

     Disease and mean disposition,
       symptoms of misplaced instincts,
      they taint our worlds
        by the epidemics they provide
       growing until they are the environments
         which dictates what and who
        are worthy to survive

     Cut off from our own realities
       we wander through surrepetitions
      which claim to give us back
        the foundations that we destroy
       by living on imagination
         barren of any true substance
        that could give us peace

       Upon the backs
         of the wretched mobs
        we build our cities,
          crushing them beneath
         the treadmill of progress
           giving to the chosen few
          and forgiving to none

       Tradition ever supports
         the eternal yoke of oppression
        leaving only the faces changed
          backed by those slogans
         which best fit the time or mood
           and give the people the means
          with which to hang themselves

       The tide of time bears not
         any mercy for the drowning
        swept away by the flood
          of relentless subjugation
         of a race which once was free
           before the wealthy and the learned
          defined what freedom meant

     What is is overshadowed
       by that which cannot be
      The former is but a marker
        floating on an invisible sea

     It is the absences which create
       needs for something to fill the void
      A vacancy is an impracticality,
        something nature always avoids

     Sparse is our floating world
       barren of a preponderance of things
      We know only what we need
        to meet the circumstances life brings

     What is not is our world
       and what is not is what it us
      We are born into ignorance
        and live out acting thus

         Why can't anyone ever listen to me,
           is it that I am neither old enough
          nor wise enough to have a say
            about those choices which shape
           the very fabric of my life

         Can't they see they harm me
           every time they remove me from deciding
          how I should be or who I should see
            by not letting me have faith or trust
           instead of their suspicions and fear

         Just once,  I pray,  just once
           the powers that be will ask me
          to tell the things I need to say
            and not ask me to beg forgiveness
           for fighting to rule my own destiny

         Shielded by the structure of society
           others control the fate of me
          blind to the prison they have made
            out of their inhibitions and good intentions
           letting me be anything but free

       How I long for a home
         with redwood paneled walls
        and alabaster plaster
          filled with the laughter
         of my children playing
           secure,  happy,  and loved

       A home and a family,
         everyone's dream come true
        once they stop searching
          long enough to find
         the heart of life waiting
           to embrace them too

       At the center of it all
         there would be someone to love me
        for what and who I am
          not what I look like or do
         so that as I change and fade
           I know she'll still care

       This is the dream
         that always brings me a smile
        whenever I can find
          the time to again ponder
         the day when I come home
           from the cold outside

     The chasm is widening
       separating the body of humanity
      into two divergent groups
        identifiable by their differing
       capacities to hope
         and creating two versions
        of what life should be

     No bridge shall be built
       for only one side would ever
      wish to bridge the gap
        thus damning them
       and their dreams of reconciliation
         to a certain death

     Two very differing worlds
       share all lands behind all boundaries
      populated by those who chase their dreams
        and those who live with despair,
       two resultant outlooks
         which can never be integrated
        dooms all futures on Earth

     I am but a figurehead
       veiling a surgently rising tide
      of events waiting
        for an opportunity to break through
       and make their mark on you
         through me

     People are just puppets
       to their relentlessly subversive masters
      called their wills
        which hold them in a stupor
       and make them realize
         half-forgotten dreams

     Notions of divine purpose
       long imbedded deep within the psyche
      come to life
        whenever one must choose
       upon a course of action
         of importance

   Ahead is another landmark
     by which to frame off another section
    of my hectic endless journey
      between the here and now
     and the there and then
       along life's lonesome highway

   The terrain and scenery changes
     by not nearly so often or as drastically
    as I myself become changed
      by each new turn
     and each new fact learned
       as I bridge the greatest divide

   Another set of useless baggage
     gets thrown off by the wayside
    as I shed my skin
      like some odious reptile
     eager to leave the past
       for the uncertainty tomorrows bring

   A brand new version of me
     will relegate all that I am now
    to the past pages of time
      for I shall not remember
     nor engage in the pursuit
       of ambitions that meant everything to me

       A conclave of codgers
         set the terms for living
        for you and for me
          according to arcane rules
         made by savages and dolts
           who sought to deny death
          by controlling from the grave
            the lives of all generations

       Monuments to ravenous ideas
         rise as cold as the stones
        which form their stoic base
          unyielding to the changes
         that seek to chip away
           at that timeless void they seek
          to keep humanity trapped in,
            unable to grow or to die

       Stone pillars will astound
         the rabble raised to perpetuate
        the divisive forces which separate
          the rulers from the ruled,
         enshrined within their palaces
           by the persuasive beliefs
          that nothing comes without order
            and that life restrained is ideal

   Two opposing ideas meet
     on an empty desolate plane
    and only one shall survive
      for this dimension cannot contain
     to differing definitions
       of where its purpose lies

   With the weight of precedent
     to be used to gather up force
    they charge toward one another
      eager to finally decide who rules
     by virtue of surviving
       the inevitable confrontation

   Out of the shattered debris
     a victor emerges to gain claim
    to this forgotten spectre of the universe
      defined by the parameters of an argument
     but it is to be forever vulnerable
       as it must meet all challengers

      Taut is the rope
        which keeps the weight of my deeds
       from plunging into the endless abyss
         spread before me

      Dangling helplessly
        I quickly master my possible movements
       and soon I become adept at living
         at the end of a line

      Two choices confront me
        as I linger hovering in empty space
       shared by those who also hang
         above and beneath me

      I can let go
        and ignore the paralytic hysteria
       which holds me prisoner here
         no where

      Instead I wait
        hoping time will enable me to learn how
       to surmount the invisible forces
         keeping me down

         Do the walk
           and talk the talk
          of resignation and dismay
            as you loosen up
           your moral decency enough
             to turn your head and walk away

         Leave compassion
           for those with more passion
          by having the guts to sit and stay
            to meet the ones
           whom providence has shunned
             and comprehend the straits they feel today

         Stay free of them
           and ignore how they are condemned
          by our indifference at their tragic way
            of having to cope
           with the absence of hope
             and the shadow of death every day

         Live in a cocoon
           guarded by the goons
          with the guns to keep them at bay
            and kill your heart
           by living completely apart
             from being willing to do what you may

   Look long into the face
     of relentless change
    in moving clouds above,
      the volatile seas surrounding us,
     and in the shifting sands beneath our feet

   Look long for looking is living
     and living is learning
    to sort out the pieces
      we choose to build up ourselves
     from fragments of the past

   Turbulence comes to us
     through the cracks
    of the fortresses we build
      to capture one moment in time
     until we can comprehend it or ourselves

   Our only solace for comfort
     is born within ourselves
    out of a need to remain
      and be steadfast that we are
     somehow one step above the fray

        Measure me not
           by either the things which I have done
          or that which I have failed to do
            for neither were me

        Judge me not
           by virtue of my ideas compatibility to yours
          for you cannot know their true values
            without being me

        Define me not
           by those standards by which you gaze outward
          seeing only that which your palatability
            allows you to see

        Measure me not
           for I am more than I may seem to be
          because in my heart I am not caged
            by that which I am

   At days end
     before the joints are cracked
    and tired muscles soothed,
      we reach the summit
     of our toils and travails
       before graciously sliding down
      into the plush downy softness
        of gilded golden slumber

   Looking back
     one final time from our provisional pinnacle
    of our labor's tumultuous climbing,
      we can see the hazards
     and the possible pitfalls
       from a post-perusive view
      only capable of being seen
        at the end of the ascent

   Committing it all
     to the backroom storage of memories
    while we still can see it clearly,
      we eagerly leap forth
     blindly over the top's edge
       plunging into the unknown
      until we at last regain footing
        and begin new uplifting forages

   Whereupon passing from one
     such place,  stage,  or happenstance
    to another of a dissimilar like
      the payment must be rendered
     at the passing of the gate
       that separates thus from then

   Whence the payments be solid
     as gold,  currency,  or valuables,
    they matter none the more
      than when the charges be those
     which cannot be weighed
       nor counted nor easily judged

   Most often the toll is extracted
     from the treasure trove of ideals
    guarding one from dogmatic pestilence
      of bitter aversion to optimistic aims
     thus reducing our fated immunities
       to the entwining tentacles of despair

   The fees be not too expensive or harsh
     upon the travelers of moving time
    and each debit paid becomes a badge
      marking ones worthiness to stand
     toe to toe with those who've felt the fury
       of the maelstroms leading up to heaven

  Did your best you say?
    Ha!  I doubt that you or anyone
   ever puts forth the most concerted effort
     without having it retarded
    by the fortitude or the confidence
      which they lack

  It doesn't really matter?
    Is this the kind of rationalization
   you use to paper over your own inadequacies
     of not being or doing enough
    to fulfill you innermost dreams
      before it all turns black?

  This is it, you know.
    This is life and it pays no heed
   to ambitions not achieved by those lost souls
     who carry their regrets forever
    by never committing themselves completely
      without ever holding back

        Under wraps of status stating garmentry
          we hide the true essence of what we are
         from the purveyance of all those alive
           who may look our way with guile
          and conceive too much of ourselves
            thus seeing our scars and our souls
           with their naked eyes

        We bury our images beneath cloaks
          of socially prescribed class uniforms
         destined to show off our economic means
           to afford the finest of fittings
          allowing the beautiful to seem ugly
            by not having those precious coverings
           valued most to be seen

        Branded by the effrontery of the totem pole
          we wear our markings like the stars of the Jews
         during the most virulent days of Nazi Germany
           as they dictate the bonds of friendship
          among others of perceived kinds
            never letting us see that hidden open world
           marking Freedom's final apogee

  As one stands before perfect order
    of objects or of universal organizations,
   the urge to lash out and confront conformity
     can drive one to mar the daunting beauty
    of structured dominion over chaos

  What causes us to fear totalities,
    even the pleasant and comforting kind
   Are we victims of our own restlessness
     which refuses us to stay too long
    to relish the boundaries of truth

  Out of the culmination of creations
    comes the power of their destructions
   for anything which comes into being
     creates the means of its own demise
    mere by proclaiming itself to be

  The cementing and ripping apart
    of ideas,  of matter,  and of life itself
   defines the mode for our existences
     letting us enjoy both the thrills
    of building towering sandcastles of efforts
      and reducing them again to nothingness

    For the love of humanity
      I tread not upon the road
     which leads one to look for wealth
       for oneself opportunistically chasing after
      items or goals which lead to nothing
        good for anyone else I know or those
       whom I may never know

    Is strength of will
      merely a font to be subjected
     to the stinging thorns of accomplishments
       by those who earnestly lunge after self-indulgence
      yet also preach of loving humanity
        while being able to give to the dispossessed
       that which the noblest of intentions cannot?

    Judging people not
      by their net worth or cash value
     seems in the end to be shutting out the reality
       which serves as the basis for all human relations
      as those deprived of the means of survival
        turn willingly or unwillingly to those who provide
       when they can comprehend some return

    Wary of the callousness
      that desperate situations force one to achieve,
     I walk alone in a land of myth and fantasy
       where love is real and justice is not bought and sold
      and self-sacrifice is not some form of masochism
        sought after by minds twisted by the deprivation
       of some internal device for selfishness

    Brazen with the intoxication
      of the joyous delusions of the dream
     I dare to believe the dream can come true
       for I know that which seems shall be
      more and more that which will be known
        by those who come to life unfettered
       by whatever threats rote holds

        No matter how far I may wander
          I never feel that I am separate
         from that time when I'm with you
           for always I feel the utmost certainty
          we shall be together once again

        Call it wishful thinking perhaps,
          or call it the madness of the hopefully insane
         but I care not to part with this assuredness
           as it makes any parting we make
          bearable and even subtlety tantalizing

        Time is never wasted in-between
          the moments we enjoy the greatest pleasure
         for it gives me time to realize the lengths
           which the growing seed of love can endure
          and still reap forth an infinite bounty

    Put a pen to paper
     and draw forth a continuing line
    so that you may see before you
      an illustration of passing time

    Twist and turn the line
      and let it flow forever free
     by not letting any complex pattern
       determine what its future must be

    See how space is created
      by the markings of the pen
     dividing the emptiness into sections
       and creating a multitude of changing shapes

    Notice how the pen moves
      and know that this is time alive
     forever moving in any direction
       and leaving a trail of falsehoods behind

    Neither the lines nor the paper
      can be considered to show time's passing
     yet the point's incessant dance across the page
       is the interplay of motion and objects everlasting

    What motives move forth
      the guiding hand of fate
     and what ends could possibly be served
       from the growing preponderance of ignorance
      or by that stingy butcher of endless ambition
        which lets only one reality live

    What evil or noble plans lie
      just beyond our mental motions grasp
     as we abruptly and falsely become sagely prophets
       only to find ourselves once again deceived
      by the bleak truth that we are always moot
        for we are but pawns moved avariciously across morass

    Dare we think that there is no reason
      nor any conscious will moving us about vicariously
     when our own arrogance subsides enough to see
       that neither are we in command of our environment
      nor are we in command of our own conscious selves
        as we toss and turn tidebound to compassions and ire

  Clinging to battle wearied beliefs
    groups of denizens band together
   to form islands of ancient morality
     of a coded culture long since dead
    to the hearts and minds of the many
      who roam freely propagating alienation
     spreading the sorrows of believing in nothing

  Tumorous growths of high-minded convictions,
    they seek to extract the hopeful gifted innocents
     and wrench them free of their desolate surroundings
     to immerse them in their civic centered placations
    removed from the harsh facts of the outside world
      which holds their forgotten familial aqaintences
     hostage to the atrocities of society's shortcomings

  In a world where tradition is perpetually uprooted
    the fate of customs lie in the minds of all progeny
   who must choose to keep alive long held myths of majesty
     or instead believe in more fashionable present trends
    which may indeed be an improvement over olden quibbles
      but more often than not prove to be pathetic justifications
     for shunning the noble if naive precepts of humanity's youth

      Boldly bearing forward
        into ill winds and harsh conditions
       the courageous few carve out a path
         through the deadly wilderness
        which holds countless terrors hidden
          behind a veil of foliage and shadow
         defining our uncertainties

      Across unconquered seas
        of reasonings not yet embarked upon
       they bring back gifts of untold wonders
        from beyond the reach of the timid crowd
        which waits for the way to be shown safe,
          the foundations proven and the awe subdued
         before leaving their sanctities

      Creating the channels of approach
        which will regulate those paths we take,
       the venturesome ones will create brave new worlds
         encased securely around our own
        for the further we travel from the origins of life
          the deluge of possible variations and perspectives
         drives us to forego much hastening deviations

  Be a good little capitalist they say
    for your country and government are good
   and no matter what people may think
     they will always deserve your support

  Then one day the war in Vietnam (read now Iraq/Iran) came
    tarnishing the idea of helpful intervention
   and numerous tales of official scandals followed
     telling of corruption,  vice,  and greed

  Still they asserted for the young to be proud
    of the bureaucrats and institutions which wrought these things
   for in the end the wrongs were made right
    and justice came albeit seemed a bit late

  Be a good little communist they say
    for your country and government are good
   and no matter what people may think
     they will always deserve your support

  Then one day the tales of the official lies came
    of the excesses of the Stalin and Breshnev eras untold
   and how deception and duplicity became the rule
     permitting countless horrors done in the name of the state

  Still they asserted for the young to be proud
    of the dictators and police state wrought these things
   for in the end the wrongs were made right
     and justice came albeit seemed a bit late

  Both will helplessly forever read the official lines
    and cheer their young down whatever road their nations take
   for neither are they the innocent positive educations they seem,
     they are the face of the states hold upon its youth
 

       I never thought time would find me
         drinking afternoon tea
        sitting and sipping and gossiping
          about whoever might be

       Savoring the thrills of simply relaxing
         in the presence of aging friends
        swapping tales of their work and children
          saying how it never seems to end

       Expectations of bold and grand adventures
         are nothing but spice for conversation
        as time has stripped us of reckless abandon
          and given us the joy of contemplation

       Slipping with ease into a comfortable rut
         seems to be what life is all about
        for constant needs of gratification and conquest
          grow tiresome and burn themselves out

         Sluggishness is fading
           and wariness a distant memory
          as I have freed myself from
            fears of failure and disappointment
           for oh so long now
             that I move forth proudly and defiantly
            challenging the wrath of fate

         Broken out from the pack
           I dance upon the virgin snows
          that have yet to fear the passing
            of that animal which I am but one of
           as I gain nature's trust and awe
             by virtue of being the first of the many
            who will wander into this domain

         Released from all frictions
           I possess all speeds at my command
          to go where my thoughts lead
            and follow my hearts desires
           as I chase the whimsical notions
             that my prependent nature spins forth
            to lead me beyond my world

        Desperately attempting to evade
          the confining limits of definition
         I dare not even ponder me
           for fear that I may discover
          that all I am is finite

        I leave others to tell what is me
          and do not challenge their conceptions
         carelessly leaving myself vulnerable
           to others prejudices and fears
          yet I stay as protected as anyone

        Protection comes not from others
          nor by one's building up of insulating respect
         because each of us lies at the mercy
           of unforeseeable turns of events
          which can always lead to oblivion

        Thus I passively watch others' minds
          convey upon me whatever verdict they may
         for I doubt I'll ever know the veracity 
           of those findings which they shall make
          or the importance of my absent opinions

   Never before have so many eyes
     looked out from so few points of view
    gazing at the world
      in an ever enlarging consensus
     of defeated idealism and apathy

   So many refreshing perspectives quashed
     by the iron clad fist of the intelligentsia internationale
    which puts tenure on par with achievement
      and accreditations above the inner fire to achieve
     driving the artistic spirit in us all

   Novelty and innovation meet taunts and jests
     from the establishments which live to set the bounds
    on the growth of their disciplines
      by constraining the very lifeblood of curiosity
     which enabled them all to be

   Extend and contract,  the very acts of being
     define the models we build to conceive ourselves
    as we bring one child to our favor
      and shun all the others ignominiously
     before realizing he too is mortal and will err

        Look down on me all you will
          for I shall never look back up to you
         Step on me and crush me
           but you shall never beat me into submission

        Destroy all that I have done
          and I shall not regret having bothered
         Steal all that I have loved
           yet still I will not be forced to hate

        Take more than I could ever give
          and you will still never possess me
         Separate me from this world if you must
           for if it is yours to control I do not want it