Child on horseback
Won’t you come for me?
Mother by morning
Won’t you cry for me?
Cause I am so tired of being strong
And I am so sick of being wrong
That I will refuse to breath

Sun on my shoulders
Won’t you burn me?
Moon calm the violent seas
Won’t you drown me?
Cause I am so tired of being afraid
And I am so sick of riding the waves
So I will refuse to speak

.
I am a still life
...like a bowl of fruit
...or flowers in array

nothing unsettling
or startling
nothing to turn from
or linger upon

timeless
...of yesterday
...or a thousand yesterdays past

changes percieved
glance to glance
derive solely from
the commotion within yourself

I am still
I am fixed

quietly afloat in that which is eternal

after a busy day, i broke free by the riverside..
watching the lilies taken by the flow,
to the far diverging end form my sight,
a tiny sight i'm a fool to know..

my eyes flew back to that rare-taken.. highway,
where a mobile came to pass then and now gone
how may ways are there along the way?
to realize my goliath dream to be her one..

will she ever dare to catch me down?
or will always see me as a bitter clown?
will be chilled up by the sense of doubt,
nah, i wish i would never fall off the ground..

I'm walking out the door,
to head south bound
down the interstate
Into an old home
where it all gravitates
It's just an old cave
With all the writings on the walls:
a past, their present, had no future
It's my Yuman paradise
But what the fuck is all of this?
Some folded cloth?
A broken vase?
A clay covered casket couldn't say more
My legs crooked like a heart
that could belong to anyone
The chief is lying on the floor,
his blood is in on trade,