Distance closes in
      and horizons once seemingly endless
     become known, and being known, uninteresting
       as the playpen to the room,
         the room to the yard, the yard to the street, ad infinitum

    The planet, being known
      thus becomes to small to frame us
     so we search out new limits to our view
       and overlook the unknowns at home
        in our cities, our streets, in our peoples, and in ourselves

    Infinity itself collapses
      under the weight of impressive stares
     as if to say what else can I do, what more can I give
       and we ourselves, not knowing, merely shrug
         and walk away saying we only thought there'd be more

       Wherever went the mystery
         upon waking each new day
        enthralled by want and wonder
          and fear and apprehension
         moved to tears,  then to bliss,  then back again
           as if each were one and the same

       Clutching at the past for clues
         as to what might go wrong or right today,
        daring to court disappointment,
          hoping against hope to hope yet again
         for who or what is to say what is hopeless
           when life itself is begun in dreams

       Again alive the umpteenth thousandth time
         you always wake to familiar surroundings
        and even strangers hold fewer surprises,
          not daring life for you know life too well,
         holding fast to the civilist of paths
           and leaving the wilderness to the wood

       Yet life is not to be bargained with or upon
         and false securities inevitably shatter
         for the dangerousness, the uncertainty must prevail
          for only they hold claim upon tomorrow's tomorrow
          and with them whatever blessings go
            for us to know would be to rob our dreams

    Down beneath the warm blue sea
      and up above the highest tree
     there are sights which I'll never see
       yet I will know them and they me

    Out beyond the reaches of space
      and within the genes of the human race
     there is an order which man will chase
       as I quietly acknowledge it's place

    People who search the cosmos beware,
      for you shall only find what you bring there
    and you will be bound to find only despair
       until you confront the shadows of your lair

 Beneath the sun I live
   and by it I mark my way
  measuring all my troubles to it,
    yet coming no closer nor further away

 It is to me what it is to you
   and is to all what frames their day
  ever unnoticed,  ever singularly static,
    as we beneath it change as we may

 To have,  to hold,  to see,
   to live,  to run,  and to play,
  to all we have done and will do,
   to all who will come,  to all who've passed away,
  to this sun,  to this one light of day
   we owe one singularly solitary praise
  for though far below to different gods we may pray
   we gain and lose all by this orb of infinite days
 

      Mine is the sun
        and for me it shines
       It gives me the food
         upon which my soul dines

      Mine is the earth,
        its oceans and its land
       It gives me a place
         upon which to stand

      Mine is the life
        which exists everywhere
       It gives me purpose
         among the others there

      Mine are the stars
        and the vastness of space
       for they are in me
         as I observe their place
 

    In ignorance I look to the sky
      sensing some higher order,  some higher mind
     as yet unknown to me so I pass it by
       enjoying peace and pleasure and like in kind
      for place untold cannot bind

    In ignorance I live each day without fear
      oblivious to death omnipresently everywhere
     in each potently deadly soul be they far or be they near
       for life and death and consequence we each share
      needing to be needing,  being to dare

    So to life leave mystery and to death leave the facts
      so cold and unchanging written in black upon black
     for living is standing with the truth to our backs
       facing the yet-to-be true, the ever changing track
      surmounting the known with each little act

    Thinking meaning existed then, or when, or ever
      we see ourselves as lost and forever wandering blind
     yet to see truth as evolving becoming full truly never
       is to accept ignorance as a fact,  a mean state of mind
      knowing all knowing soon succumbs to time

       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 importance
         as easily and as often as we lose our lives
           without diminishing our spirit's vesting

      Once is me
        yet I am
       every time
         close at hand

      Over and under,
        above is below
       Neither I am,
         neither I know

      Yet and then,
        both are now
       Never was I,
         only how

      Once is me,
        more is less
       falling away
         from the crest
 

     Motions passing,  no one's asking
       how it all could be
      Days ending,  new ones pending
        flowing eternally

     Onward time,  leaving all behind
       never letting them be known
      Only facts,  leaving no tracks
        except visions once shown

     Empty places,  last embraces
       wanting to stay real
      Everything cries,  its disguise
        breaks with fate's last seal
 

   In borrowed suits in a rented hall
    by dim lit skies we heed the call
     to gather forth in stolen time
      to feast again and savor wine
       and dance and sing and laugh and love
        and embrace all that life is made of

     Where fate collides head on with chance
      where heartache competes against sweet romance
       within this space outside of place
        moving rythmically in close embrace
         we carry the dance on through the night
          knowing it will fade like stars into the morning light

   As light as a feather
     that flutters to and fro
       fancifully upon the slightest breeze
    As strong as the feeling
      of futility at the suppression
        of an undeniably growing sneeze

   As warm as the color
     of a blazing crimson sun
       on a pale morning sky
    As safe as a prison
      or the painted sanctuaries
        in which we all shall lie

   As indefinable as the moment
     in which we finally come
       to know and love ourselves
    As rich as the body
      and soul of mother earth
        which gives but never sells

   As these and so much else,
     so is my love for you
       and so shall be forever more
    As easy as it is to say
      it is far the more difficult
        to feel all is real and I am yours 

    Without love
      I am free to cultivate hate
     without fear
       of any unseemly contradiction
      to drive me
        to purge either one or the other

    With love
      I may love just a few
     without need
       to share that love with all
      or justify
        loving anyone better or more

    Within love
      there is the hope I may live
     without seeing
       anyone in my heart clearer
      than anyone else
        who is no less worthy of the same
 

Hail to thee, my country
  born as Athens, then again as Rome
 never a nobler conqueror this world has known
   engaging and enslaving others by ideals alone
  hoping they may be as free as we may be

May our God be as forgiving of we
  all too often led by our power gone astray
 yet bold we must be for it is only our way
   and only courageous assurance will rule this day
  and make destiny bow to thee

Should all men be living free
  may our many errors in their true light be shown
and be judged by those whose responsibilities for themselves match our own
   for what we did,  right or wrong,  by it they will have grown
  enough to see how better it should be
 

       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
 

   The verbal give and takes
      over the lives we make
     set the stage and 
       unflinchingly lead the way
      to uncover the reasons
        behind the change in seasons
       of social values which vaunt
         and then fade away

    It is said to converse
      is merely to rehearse
     and rehash old ideas
       long turning decrepit and gray
      but in every innovative night
        there is the occasional light
       which flashes briefly yet dies
         unnoticed before the light of day

    To attempt to profoundly speak
      even with words so old and meek
     is to seek out and embellish
       those shooting stars that never stay,
      which brilliantly will blaze
        before dying into the haze
       of the oceans of previous notions
         of hopes,  dreams,  and dismay

    Yet at every new turn
      there is the chance they or we can learn
     to harness the elusive power
       of insight which we cannot know of or say,
     in every speech that bores
        is a chance someone can open the door
       and find that new insight
         that might be possible only today 
 

  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
 

Where within deceit lies profit,
 over those few in whom trust is not yet dead,
 over they who admit injury to claim understandings
   false they may be,  yet to them they are beholden
  to follow,  to love,  to live all but in vain
    losing not merely their money nor pride nor innocence
   but being verily robbed of life,  of the right to believe
     and give freely of oneself without compunction or regret,
    who then can profit from this,
      from this theft who can draw breath,
     who can drink,  who can feed,  whose greed could this appease
       for what by wanting could having be more hollow
 

            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

        Back to the wall
          forced to face dead ahead
         not toward the future
          but toward that which you dread

        No place beneath you
          to shrink quietly away
         for here you must stand
           to seize any chance left to stay

        Be bold or be not
          engage now or all is lost
         time demands you a miracle
           and cares not of the cost

        Own up to the darkness
          embrace the hell you have to pay
         knowing only when all seems bleakest
           will you find strength to find your way

          As I gaze at the reflections
            dancing across the surface
           of one of nature's many shallow pools,
             I feel as though I am looking
            at the ghosts from another time

          At the touch of my hand they scatter
            only to once again reappear
           as the waves slowly begin to quell
             and they reveal to me their stories
            for they know I need to hear them

          But these faces that do haunt me
            are not of strangers of long ago
           nor are their tales unfamiliar
             for they are the different ages of me
            and their dreams that did not survive

          They are in pools of rain and window panes
            and they will follow wherever I go
           until the day when I take them back
             if ever I decide to again be whole
            and no longer bar them from my soul

    I see myself in my mind's eye
      in my youth stout and strong
        and in my prime
     too untamed and too untried
      not to think that all the world
       could be bent towards my will
        by my pride

    Wary now,  I seldom wander
      to find fulfillment of futile goals
        lying ever yonder
     yet in my heart and in my dreams
      I am still a fool eagerly awaiting
       opportunity to cast away my wisdom
        if sorrow it means

    Is ignorance bliss,  I wonder
      debating whether incremental time
        is some cosmic blunder
     for when age brings us acquiescence
      for lessening roles in lesser ambitions
       we still believe we are more and have more
        as we lose faith in our essence

     Wondering where wistfulness went
       my mind briefly yet sagaciously moves
      to a time when I thought not of myself
        before doing and maybe,  before being
       letting not preconception deny experience

     Why is it now inconceivable to me
       to stand naked on the roof beneath the stars,
      to run gaily through the fields rolling with life
        and not think myself an ass for loving life
       so much as to engage in harmless foolish fun

     Where what becomes what for and why not, why
       is where who I have come to be has since lost me
      in the trees whose protective leaves let no one see
        the boy inside the man,  the girl behind the woman,
       loving what little spontaneity we're still graciously allowed

     The constraints are mine to have or have not
       and respect the invisible instigation to keep hold,
      to keep in check that urge to burst out laughing
        whenever we feel we've stepped into the absurd
       yet absurdity lies at the heart of all around us
        only now sorrow has replaced the joy

      Waiting for the perfect moment
       when all of the stars align
        and rapture lies only just behind
         that moment creeping up slowly
          from the soul up into the mind

      Waiting while thousands pass
       before you though you are blind
        seeing only what is yet to come,
         seeing only that some-other time
          which you might never live to find

      Waiting while wondering why
       you wait to live but not to die
        leaving all of the living left behind
         walking through today seeing only tomorrow
          with yesterday's dreams still driving your eyes

      Waiting without even knowing
       or knowing but not caring,  you die
        each day a thousand deaths,  a thousand lies
         for perfection lay in each hour,  each minute
          with only your conception of it to give it its disguise

           Tomorrow I shall awake
            to the dawn of a brand new day
            unseen,  unknown to any who live today
            and think and dream and believe
            that they know what with it will come or may
             as I too asleep to it still yet hail its new way
            and dare embrace,  to touch,  to taste
             in haste that which casts today away
             for the sake of forsaking this day that stays
              too long making me gaze longingly at unseen days
             and praise that which may bring only greater pains,
              to chance to lose,  yes,  but to chance to gain,
             is twice but chance to lose more of the same 

           Without the fire in the belly,
             the gleam in the eye,
            the pensiveness of the mind
             driving me ever to new heights
            I revel in the quietude
              seeking to master the sublime

           Ever unexpectedly,  joy
             without cause or
            without reason for celebration
              comes crashing through the door
             seeking to reinsinuate itself
               as its own instigation

           Ambition,  easily confused
             upon seeing the changing wind
            seeks to shy away,  to fade to the rear
              sensing confrontation with elation too risky
             for want is to contentment
              too truly its greatest fear

            Smash!  Our tepid little lives
              are ripped apart by viciousness
             inherent in nature's fragile balance
               upon a tightrope swaying over disasters
              imminent and always pervasive

            Suddenly death is everywhere
              and tranquil serenity is forever disrupted
             by the disarming preponderance of fear
               which sets in upon the mood of the day
              preventing all from complete recovery

            Overnight chaos becomes the rule
              typifying the terror embroidered within
             the troubled hearts and minds of the survivors
               who wander through the shattered ruins
              in the graveyard that yesterday was home

         Never is ever ever enough
           for life itself is in the extreme
          surpassing itself time and time again
            for that it is
           and for that must it always be
             as this or that comes to rule
            each moment becoming that time
              while chaos itself reigns supreme
              for all that may no matter what,  no matter when
               must bow to this

         Time becomes time again
           defining itself anew each resurgent light
          as all of creation falls down to this
            until it was
           and then never again would it,  could it be
             paved over by insatiable lust for life
            driving those others over that which drove it
              seeking to become that moment,  become that life
             which by turns gives life and feeds off of it
               living by giving what does

        Pushing ever towards the end
          we reach out for the newest and latest
         and we receive them yet again
           never doubting
          the relevancy or immediacy
            of evolution

        Seeing ourselves decay
          and knowing our governments and systems,
         our attempts to keep change at bay,
           condemn us
          to see that our lives and ritual actions
            are institutions

        Doomed to eventual obscurity
          we struggle to achieve eternal importance
         lest we become forgotten history
           always believing
          that to be remembered is to live,
            an absolution

        Pegged into the fold,
          locked into a slice of eternal time
         chained to life fading and old
           ever acknowledging
          neither acceptance nor denial
            is resolution

   Built like a mighty fortress,
     the dark horse rides asunder
    with its giant hooves
      tearing up the ground,
     making sounds like rolling thunder

   Relentlessly it surges forth
     like a vengeful demon of the night
    making all bear witness
      to its unbridled fury
     and its overwhelming sense of might

   Bound by the truth of existence
     and binded to an earth dominated by Man,
    it searches for escape
      the only way that it knows,
     by running as far and as fast as it can

   Running to every corner of the land,
     one and all will sometimes hear it
    as it thunders past
      seeking limitless pastures
     and freedom for its restless spirit

     One by one I shall cut the ties
       which will bind me to the ground
      and I shall feel the pull of the heavens
        begging me to rise forth and come hither

     I shall sit in the comfort of my airship
       and watch the world fall beneath my feet
      while setting my gaze upon a far larger world
        whereupon the distant and unrelated become one

     As I look down from my celestial throne
       and revel at the expansiveness of my new sight
     I shall carry with me the hopes of the spoiled and the damned,
        as they bow before me longing to be set free

     Over boarders and barriers I shall drift away
       in my craft crowned by heat and golden sunlight
      and as countries and continents fade to a distant blur
        I shall learn true freedom at the mercy of destiny's winds