New poem/Song. This particular one sounds best when spoken aloud as opposed to read silently. It's a little shaky, but for the most part, I'm happy with it.
The Brooding Mare
I think I'm about to cover my face
with the softest kind of riot gear.
I think it's something that could keep me warm
throughout the remainder of this calender year.
I'm about to change this world
without even the slightest hint of fear.
I'm about to leave my eyes without a trace
of light to be found anywhere near.
I'm about to let this ship of fury forward sail
Without anybody left standing at the wheel.
I think I'm about to put away
any hunter caring with his pin-hole eyes
buzzing full of flies and rotten full of lies.
Who stares down at my picture frame,
always pushing for my quiet demise.
...I know we can all think very deeply
but that doesn't mean we can strategize.
All there is here to my thinking
Is a philosopher who folds up his thinking chair and cries.
A father without the children he raised in front of his eyes.
A poet who is lost in a world that ain't the most sublime.
A criminal who will never even commit his one-time greatest crime.
What does motivate my movements?
You know, I could never rightly tell.
But I know just as the wounds will begin to heal
my mind will start to swell.
...And the worms, they're all crawling
into my thumping, open heart
And my body is left crooked & half-paralyzed
for what they call abstract art
And the oceans are all still broiling,
the sky is still yet to part
As the choices of yesterday
are today not so very smart.
I feel like a never-ending suitcase rider
Keeping with the wind never brought me any strife.
I feel like a sitting bucket of ice cold water
so it went with my warmest past life.
I feel like a snake quiet in his desert
slithering straight for my mate and my home.
I feel like a writer emerging from a thousand-year bunker
I never felt bad when I was alone.
You point me in the right direction
But I swear it's all going South.
You give me all the honest corrections
But I keep telling you to watch your mouth.
You insist I have something to give you
When everything I have is just up my sleeve.
You tell me that I've got to stay there
When I insist that I really must leave.
I would like to throw a parade,
Yes, I really would like to treat you fair
but the wind, it is pushing me...
Turning me around & for the first time making me see
Allowing me breathe that one breath of flowing eternity
Hiding away the lock and politely handing me the key
Riding on the ege-white-crest of an infinite, swarming sea
Leading me away to the man I will one day have to be.
O' where will we all go at the end of the day?
I can see no other end than this old, cold & hard one-way.
I'll stumble forlorn into the densest of mist
Because we all turn up lost along that road anyway.
While all the people who said that they had great plans
Ended up staying home just so they could grieve and pray.
I'm blazing through life like a stumbling circus clown
Beating people with these eyes and speaking without a sound.
Drunk on naive wisdom & serving as counsel to the crown.
Lost in this brightly flashing carnival,
clutching onto a tiny ticket which I drunkenly stole.
Rising to an occasion for which I never thought I would bare
Racing along a deviant turnpike upon a brooding mare...