We will witness the climax

I don't know if anyone reads anymore
And I have no feeling for time.
Each day is another page to the novel
I feel I am living in rhyme.
__________________________________
30 days past September
And tomorrow is the First
Only a month after that
The world will know its curse
Will you care?
Will you listen?
Will you watch it on CNN?
Will you laugh, will you cry
Will you jump up and fly
A loud crash in the sky
All your hopes
All your dreams
All the seams in between
Would you even know your prison?

Would you know it to be your cell
When you have GMO cancer
And are living in hell
Will you care?
Will you listen?
Would you even change a thing?
When life is so easy
Obama gives you his money
It's alright, he's just fine
You won't owe him a thing.

Do you care?
Do you listen?
Have you even made it this far?
Do you know which pill
The red or the blue
Or the path to the top of the hill?
They say the suicide's greatest
When life gets too painfully mundane
For what's yours is mine
And what's mine is yours
And we all fit nice in a frame.

But what does it matter.
I am only a number
A statistic with an English name.
A girl to be short
I've never seen war
But I am terrified and ashamed.
For I am scared of what's ahead of us
And ashamed of what's behind
We were promised the best of generations
But what we got was not so kind.

Did you care?
Did you listen?
When you sent us out for facts
We did blue book essays
And SAT brainwaves
ACTS and progress reports
I did quizzes and multiple choice
Took stream samples and learned to use my voice
Did it matter? Did I learn?
No, I don't think a lot.

I got A's and 4.0 ;
I don't remember a thing.
But some person somewhere
got a whole lot of money
From all of my debt miseries.
My histories were all twisted
And science was misted
I didn't know right from wrong.
I couldn't swing a hammer
Or grow what I needed
I guess you could say
I was slow to belong.

30 days past September
And tomorrow is the First.

___________________________________

Back from the wild country

Work hard and save money
Got me thinkin about Alaska honey
So sweet to taste
And grizzly to bear
The wild, it calls
A cold breeze in the air.

A .44 mag to hang at my side
A hatchet to cut, a skipper that flies.
The wild, it calls
And my wolf ears listen
Howl to the night
My knife, oh how it glistens

Work hard and save money
That freedom rings like a bell
Go North
Go North
Go North
It cries.
And in my heart
That spirit does rise!

A Blog Floating in the Ocean

Almost 7 billion people
Upon this small blue planet
Each one somehow connected
With a digital leash.
Iphones and aps
Macs and raps
Facebook and Myspace
Wired to hellspace
Almost 7 billion people
And here's a poetic note
To what end you may ask
None but my own
Almost 7 billion people
And yet, I feel so alone.

Sitting in the Sand

I happened to wander
On a neat summer's day
To a place I could ponder
Upon a wide open space.
There I rested my thoughts
And sat in the sand
Not seeing much
Just the sun and the land.
Blinded by emotion
My eyes filled with tears
For what I knew not
But it was something I feared.
I had always been told
"You must be strong."
Like there was no other option
Any other option was wrong.
So I tried and I tried
And I tried to carry on.
I read books and ate my vegetables
I lifted weights and overcame obstacles.
I became strong
for the people I loved
For myself, for my sister
For my mother and father.
I became strong
and I learned a good self defense
I taught it to children
It made perfect sense.
But on this day that I wandered
To sit in the sand
Not seeing much
But the sun and the land
I happened to look down
and I saw all of my scars.
And it made me so sad
Because I had gotten so far.
"You must be strong."
Echoed in my head
As I remembered the pain
Even the ones that didn't make sense.
I looked to the sky with tears in my eyes
And I asked, "How can I be strong?"
I've seen things unnatural
And felt hands on me like knives.
I've been raped, I've been beaten
I've been been worked on like a corpse in the night.
I became strong, regardless.
I taught it to children
But it didn't make any sense.
I would stutter and shy
What a hippo crate
What a lie.
"You must be strong."
Even when it doesn't work
Even when all the self-defense in the world
Won't touch against dirt.
So I grabbed a handful of sand
And I sifted it over my scars
I cried and I cried and I cried
Because I remembered the pain.
"You must be strong."
Echoed its annoyance
For myself, for my sister
For my mother and father.
The sand didn't cover that pink
Stretch of skin.
I guess when you hurt it so much
It rolls right off again.
And that's when I learned
Today sitting in the sand
That all of the pain in the world
Can't by buried again.
"You must be strong."
Still haunts me like an echo.

Isn't time something
a bit like a tickle
you laugh hard at first
but then it gets fickle

Wouldn't it be nice
if life was a pickle
Not too sweet; not to sour
A bit in the middle

it comes, it goes, this I know oh oh

I have not much to live by
And less that I can call my own
We are all but small stories
Underneath the skin and bone.

This I know, this I know oh oh.

When we are dead and buried
The stories will be your own.
To whose ear will hear
The triumphs and angels playing thrones.

It comes, it comes, this I know oh oh.

For the grass cares little
But for the blowing of the wind
And your neighbor's ears are fickle
In and out again.
A friendly cat might prance on by
And lift a sassy tail to air
But upon the hearing of your story
Would stop, flirt and flair.

It goes away and comes again, this I know oh oh.

You could tell your friend
The stories you were able
 But to them would be response
As if it were a fable.

It goes it goes, this I know oh oh.

And should our lives come to war or famine
And the stories turn from dirt and glutton
And crows feet come
To your eyes like beggars
This I know, this I know
The poets, preachers and painters
Are all but the same
And water comes freely from the river
Blood within your veins.
The truth will flow but only a little
To the prudish and disdain.

Me an Chad :D