as civilization builds more and more highrises top the skyline, people are born and die, poverty separates from the rich and super rich and everyone is exasperated by class and race and religion and still we are one people on a little planet in the grand universal picture. life goes on and we make due with our skills and human nature.
another emotional and passionate thought:
music tells stories with sound and lyrics just add passion to the music
and without words the music carries you on and back in memory
percussion resounds and your own thoughts pound in your skull.
somewhere in time the present exists; but no one knows exactly aware; parallel universes possibly exist. besides it really doesn't matter; no one gives a darn except for their own present reality;
history is made every moment in the time continuum.
it's dark in the shadows of the craters on the moon and somewhere
someone considers weather the moon is all dark
or our thoughts are enlightened by creative thinking or
perhaps it's all dark
except for that one light thought that always seems to float away.
visions, dreams, remembrances;
making a name for your self;
you've already become a legend;
people talk about you, and you talk to your self
and to God if you believe.
not an easy task.
awaking with startling imperfections,
you try to correct to no avail;
an exercise in futility.
you wonder what comes next?
tomorrow always comes.
your legacy still is forming
experimental thinking in an imperfect world;
you wonder of your own utopia.
desolate, alone and alienated
altered humanity races forward and backward
in a singularity built especially for you;
never mind the rest of the world
it will not rest, but you find the time
in your busy schedule.
you reside in a flat, your own sanctuary
the one you call home
but no one answers the phone
except a machine that says
please leave a message.
you plan your day of leisure
your narcotic memory
and some bourbon, and a half pack of cigarettes.
the day fades with its own glory
but you live on thru the night.
satisfied but not content
you always remember except when you choose to forget.
beside your self and still
trying to understand God's will
if only you could be quiet and still
you still wonder
no wonder you can do that at all.