Other Poems

The hands of fate.

The sight of pain.

The love of man.

The hurt of war.

Twisted is our lives.

Twisted has our existence been.

Forever lost we will soon be.

We are on the road,

To our inevitable demise.

Killing ourselves with each passing day.

Twisted is the life we lead.

Man is one,

Yet we are many.

Divided and bitter.

Cold and lost.

How do you survive in this world?

Can't we stop to look at the beauty that’s not other people?

The golden leaves of autumn,

Rustling about the waves of evening wind.

As they float amongst the sky.

A ship that sails across a purple sea,

As the clouds gently touch the sun,

And for a moment you are in a shadow.

As the colors radiate around you.

Have we stopped noticing the little things that make this world what it is?

Twisted is our lives.

We pass by beauty each and everyday.

It is an annoyance,

No longer brilliance.

The sun that stares you down,

It’s not the beauty of light it once was,

But the pain of not seeing the road ahead.

We complain about our world.

Instead of embracing its wonder and glory.

Music the sweetest of any of our creations.

Listen to the sounds of old,

Classical masterpieces of the past.

Float along on the lines and bars of song and sound.

The beat of an organ,

Or the mastery of a symphony.

Get lost amidst the notes,

The images that fill your head,

The sights you see,

The wonders you dream.



Slow down.

We don't need to move so fast.

We are twisted in our lives.

Once a day when we were free.

Now we are constrained by time.

Not enough for us.

We kill ourselves to survive.

Twisted is our lives.

The soft sound of a piano,

The sweet sounds fill the morning air.

The sun hits the grass,

And fog rises as the water melts away.

The rays of light shine through the fog.

Images of the heavens,

Projected for us to bask in.

Yet we don't care.

No one notices that anymore.

Even the piano is lost,

The notes have no affect,

As they caress your face,

And move on by.

Twisted we are...

All we claim to want is peace,

Yet when we have it we destroy it.

We don't take notice,

We don’t care.

Twisted is our lives.

All we want is right here before us.

If we could all just slow down and notice.

The grind of the guitar.

The strum of the rock.

The music takes your hand,

And throws you in the pulsating lights.

A musical journey of time and space.

Perhaps it reflects our culture.

Life was slow and simple for classical music.

Jazz and the roaring twenties,

Created the new fast world of the modern day.

Yet the 50's slowed down,

And the music tuned down as well.

And that leaves us with today.

It's it all mixed into one.

Society is no longer at one speed.

We all move independently.

And those still lost in music of old.

So close to the edge,

Yet so far away.

A glimpse of a strange mind.

And that minds view on our culture.

Take what you may,

It’s an opinion not fact.

But perhaps,

For a little while anyway.

Just think,

About your life,

And how fast you move.

Appreciate the finer details,

The smaller joys.

And just maybe,

And just then,

You will start to enjoy life more,

And leave the twisted one we all lead now.

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