and i am still here

and you are still there... sleeping no doubt, or sitting in silence... looking at the hour, when sleep covers most of the western hemisphere, i sit awake wondering why... why we do the things we do... why a child blows up another child... why a man soils his nest... why a woman helps him do it... why a leader does not give peace a chance... why a government for the people allows most of the people to fall farther and farther into debt-slavery... why a people allow the government to stand when it is so immersed in supporting a corporate world that it chews up and spits out a people... why self-destruction is so clearly the human way and why so many people would rather stick their heads in the sand and take it up the ass than face this fact... why we bother continuing to have children when we are destroying the world we leave them... why we empower fear over love...

and we still say... sweet dreams...

what's going on?

here we sit so all alone, well, i sit, you sleep... unless you are awake and if you are awake, what's going on?... what are you doing?... are your hands too busy to type and tell me? (do i want to know what your hands are doing?... take a picture if you dare lol)... some nights i just want to play and i shall play with words and imaginary friends (or imaginary readers) when nobody stays awake with me (peter?... john?... james?... oh shaddup lol)... it is now, after the blogging is over (realatively speaking cuz it's never actually over until it's over, as lenny kravitz might have said, but each day, or sleep cycle at least, there is some sort of illusion of conclusion and then, here we are, so there), and i really really really want to know (oh oh), what's going on?...

alone

here i sit
so all alone
no one to talk to
no one to phone
i'll search to find
for there must be
someone as lonely
looking for me

promise

after all the words are written, after all the blogs are closed, after all the people have gone to bed, cloased their eyes, fallen asleep, there is still one last promise left to keep...

that is why...

still alone

after the blogging's over
after the words are done
there's no dress to look up
no irreverent fun

after the babbling pauses
after the words are through
there's no zipper to pull down
no entendre to misconstrue

after the pickles are sucked dry
after the peaches are licked
there's no head left to play with
no small mind left to trick

life in the blogworld is fickle
funny and strange and weird too
and after the blogging is over
these words are left here for you

between the blinds

and the day that we find
we can share in our minds
the grand stand undefined
of the heart unconfined
in the body divined
as the seconds unwind
past the fear so refined
that it has reason resigned
to accept being blind
and the death of the mind
waiting staid and misaligned
for the day that we find
we can share in our minds