She's Been There, from the beginning....

“Well there’s a piece of Maria in every song that I sing.
And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings.”
– Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby - Counting Crows

Many lyrics over many years have resonated deeply within me, from Counting Crows’ songs especially.  Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby has a few I quote quite a bit, but the one I just quoted above, has a very specific meaning to me....

Language Fails Me

Words are slippery things in the English language.  I have a friend who was in the Navy being a linguist.  Since he had a better understanding of languages, he always said, “English is the best language in the world.”  Personally, I disagree.

I disagree on many points.  The fact is, I cannot say many things without some string of adjectives in front of it to define what the heck it is I’m trying to say.  I think that’s pretty dumb.  I can’t tell someone I love them as a friend, without tacking on a bunch of stuff, because if I don’t tack on that crap, then suddenly I’m in love and my entire marriage is in jeopardy.

A Crossed Line of Racism

It’s truly hard to make it through the day without offending someone in today’s society.  I mean…seriously, just look at how the internet is these days.  People just launch into other people, trolling every aspect of online life.  A few months ago, I posted a sarcastic comment on a Facebook discussion, hoping to get a chuckle.  The owner of the thread exploded, hardcore, with a rant a couple of paragraphs long about childishness and civility.

They are one to talk, though….  Over the past year or so, I’ve started noticing a frightening trend, and I hate to say it made me realize something about myself.  Let’s start there, actually, on the inside.

(poem) - The Age of Rust

What is left for us
Those who dwell in the rust

Days pass by and still we persist
Its almost as if, we are still trying to resist

People still call it ‘The Man’
Because its all part of the Machine’s plan

Its rolling and churning
Doing nothing but destroying

Collecting money for itself
Putting all its riches upon the shelf

We all help it along
Even if you do nothing but smoking a bong

Because it feeds off all of us
In one way or another, in god we trust

What hope is there for a better tomorrow
I feel the death of us in my bone’s marrow

It gives me aches and pains
As fear seeps in, destroying memories within my brain

Is the past the thing I remember
Or did I gloss it all over in November?

I stare into the mirror’s reflection
And fear my face’s deep set aggression

For there is nothing but hatred within my eyes
For those that tell all the lies

Because lies are what got us here
Kiss all the rich people’s rears

We are nothing but the cobble stones
That led them all to there hedonistic thrones

Luckily there is a special place in hell
For all those that poisoned the well

Because poisoned it has become
In this existence that is nothing but bedlam

We strive and strive for things we can’t have
For our wounds, there is no salve

So go out and slave away
At minimum wage all day

As the people above your boss
Reap all the benefits of the life you’ve lost

While I ponder what is left for the rest of us
As well dwell in the Age of Rust.

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

A 38 Year Old College Student

I’m shocked at how much college has changed since I last when to it.  Of course, 1994 was 20 years ago, but still, I never thought it would change so much.  Part of me wonders if I just didn’t notice the things I love about school now because I was so blinded by trying to survive, but after talking to my friends, I don’t think that is the case….

It seems a million years ago when I stepped on the Austin campus of the University of Texas.  A million years and a day.  I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I was giving some things a shot, and it just didn’t work out.  I was naïve.  I picked something and just decided to go with it, truly the wrong decision.  To this day I do not regret my decision to walk away from college, in fact it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. 

Things that have to happen for me to Enjoy a Book

Everyone that knows me, knows that I’m a picky reader.  Its ingrained in me and nothing will ever change it.  I don’t enjoy wasting my time and I’ve left quite a few theaters because I refused to sit through a movie that was bad.

But movies are one thing, books are another.  Books require a commitment, in fact, any reading does.  It takes your full attention and concentration.  Good ones just yank those from you and push out the world all by themselves.  The fact is, good books are rare, and some of the ‘best’ books in history fall short of me wanting to spend any time on them at all.

(poem) - Nightmares

I remember dreams

Where I’d wake up alive

Landing safely upon the ground

After some fateful, deadly dive

I’m sure the screams

Woke my lover

Because of life’s

Living horror

I missed my chance

To die in the night

Being forced to life

Eternity’s blight

When death visits

In a World gone Mad

Those are the dreams

That are (supposed to be) the best I’ve ever had.

But the horror of living

On without you

Is upon me now

And there is nothing I can do

Alone

I fear it now

My bad dreams

Are nightmares of surviving

In a dreary world

Without loving

The world of before

Where living was a tedium

Of managing

Life’s great doldrums

Passing the time away

For when death finally comes

Playing games and watching TV

Ignoring my heart’s rhythmic drum

Yet now I have a reason

To truly live for each day

And I want to seize it all

In every sort of way

But the end of the dream will come

How can it not?

That end visits me in my dreams

Showing me life is all for naught

For in the end

That’s what dreams are for

To show us all the spectrums

Of what we most and least long for

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!

A Return to College

For those of you who don't know, Lisa and I have returned to college.  Its one of the main reasons her and I vanished for so long with the blog, as we've been trying everything we could to stay afloat financially, while trying to decide what our future will hold.  Anyways, periodically I'm gonna through my essays and work online onto the blog just for the fun of it.

Our first assignment in English Comp 1, was to write an essay over our first day/week of college, picking an event and showing what it meant to you.  It was more of a participation grade, as we had to read other people's papers in class and tell the class what we got out of it.  Here is my essay, entitled A Return to College.

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The Loss of Artistry

One of the reasons why America sucks is because of the loss of artistry.  Most know that I’m a huge finger pointer when I go to point out that this country is going down hill fast, but honestly, there needs to be something done.

In 90% of the jobs out there, it seems, there is no need for art of any kind.  Just manual labor.  Do this and get paid for it.  But those that get promoted, normally, are the ones that think outside the box, the ones that see a solution to a problem no one had even noticed.

(poem) - The Liars' Games

I’m shocked at the lies
Some people tell
I truly hope there is
A inferno like hell

There shall be no forgiveness
From my lips at all
For those people lied
They actually had the gall

Trust is the foundation
Upon which all relationships are built
They burned that bridge
Showing absolutely no guilt.

I want to scream
I want to kill
I want to do anything
But allow them to do what they will

Lying will be the downfall
Of the entire human race
Not greed, nor hate
Nor lust for power’s sweet grace

We cannot succeed
Without the trust of each other
Yet deceit commonly
Makes an enemy of one’s brother

People wonder why
I run and hide
Away from the outside world
Way deep inside

I look at them
Incredulously
Do they miss
All the dishonesty?

Its everywhere
Its all around
Its in the face of everyone
Who’s sent a pet to the pound

A great man
Once had a dream
Of a world without
The lie of racism

Yet it persists to this day
Because lies are believed
Which makes me fall to my knees
And grieve like a bereaved

The lies must stop
For the sake of us all
Else we will all end up
Under a draped pall

With no one to bear us hence
For the future will die in flames
It will burn behind the fence
We built to ignore all the liars' games

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!