The Ugly Three

Coulda

Woulda

Shoulda

the ugly three

show you what will never be

the anthem of your life should be

I am striving to be me.

Making mistakes can help us see

how living life is meant to be

my mistakes show that I'm not still

my motion comes from seeking thrill

if I wasn't moving forward

I would have no thought of upward.

'Coulda' can be inspiration

to look at life and see what could be

then move in time to make it 'will be'.

'Woulda' is avoiding answers

I see the need

and then ignore it

it will stay with me forever

reminding me I think I'm clever.

'Woulda' is what could have been

but 'shoulda' is my mortal sin

I was not there, I could have tried

it shows me what was meant to be

and tells me it will never be.

'Shoulda' stains my soul with loss

it is not there but is my cross

it will never, ever be

but it is always haunting me.

My anthem is that I'll be me

with all that is and isn't seen

I will understand the plan

and find my place upon this land.

Have some challenge I surely will

finding answers will be the drill

when I look to see the sun

Ill no longer feel that I must run.

Of course I'll do what is not fun

from time to time, take as it comes

but looking back is not the way

avoiding life not here to stay.

So 'coulda been' is not your tune

and 'woulda been' has left the room

and with the other two now gone

'shoulda been' is just plain wrong.

There is no silver bullet shot

that cures life's ills or lack of thought

the secret is to understand

there really is a master plan.

Then you can do all that you must

and have the answers tossed with trust

because the sin is not to try

to see what is through a blind eye

To never answer when your called

To never feel that your enthralled.

Bells

Bells!

There was the sound of bells

I don't know where it came from
or whether it was up or down
all I know is what I'm hearing is surley not a drum.
I heard bells damn it!
At first they were beside me
then above me, then below
I couldn't really see them
But I heard them, or did I
I don't know?
Whatever thing was ringng

seemed bent on my destruction

for hearing all and seeing none

was not conducive to my function.

After a second day of this

and then a third, and then a fourth

I made my mind up to ignore it

and it worked if I was walking north.

But I was walking southbound

with bells ringing in my head

so I tried walking backwards

but that filled me with great dread.

Once walking round in circles

seemed to silence all the bells

falling down a lot however

felt like slipping into hell.

I also found that lying down

would clear my mind completely

but traveling upon my bed

was not accomplished neatly.

Then I found the answer

it was hiding in my brain

flying high above the clouds

kept me unseen and not insane.

So now I put my cape on

and got comfortably unseen

I try to fly around the world

wearing my suit of pink and green.

Then the bells do all stop ringing

and my head isn't so hazy

and I can stay in bed a while

cause sometimes flying makes me crazy.

Dorothy of Oz

I saw a picture yesteryear
a grainy older photo
and in it was a pigtailed girl
of thirteen years not older.
She wore a yellow dress of cotton
a dress that looked it's age
and in her eyes were darker times
from when she met a Sage.
This girl had traveled far and near
according to her picture
and from the yellow photo seen
her eyes had lived a nightmare.
Upon a street of gold she walked
delusion followed closely
she spoke to those who would not speak
and listened to them, mostly.
She believed in magic
and saw beauty in strange places
wonder, fear, and pain were hers
mostly seen on witch's faces.
Once upon a time the wind
had battered round her head
then it was to sleep she went
her family feared her dead.
So she wandered in search of fame
using poppy as her savior
and as she walked on golden road
all she passed were asked a favor.
Most said no as she strolled
but three gave her a listen
one for courage, one for heart
and one who's brain was missing.
The time did come, the road did end
the girl found imagination
and as her end seemed guaranteed
the wind brought her salvation.
So Dorothy flew from Oz that day
now you know the story
and every time I see that girl
I wonder...

My Master Was A Poet

My Master was a poet

she I did not know

long before when I was born

her magic it did flow.

I read her words when I was young

they flowed along the page

she told me of a different time

a wondrous, ancient age.

My Master was a poet

from her I've learned a lot

I've learned to write of living

and of loving as it's sought.

From time to time I've wondered

if our spirits may be kindred

so after doing so much searching

my discovery was splendid.

My Master was a poet

her blood runs through my veins

it's been two hundred years or so

her spirit still remains.

I've searched details of images

I hoped to find some hint

of if she may have wondered too

how my time is spent.

but there is no recollection

of when our souls have passed

I only know someone is near

as I struggle with my craft.

My master was a poet

her words still mark the page

and as I type these simple thoughts

her hand reaches through the age.

If I listen closely

I can hear her quiet whisper

my master is a poet

and with whom I draw this picture.

Outside In

Looking in from the outside

watching my pride as it wanders

my likeness in mirrors

gives me something to ponder.

Faded memories can't catch-up

to my life on the run

and thinking more closely

Just isn't much fun.

My life on the outside

walks a fine line

between genius and crazy

I switch all the time.

I'm grasping for straws

with a branch overhead

and I wonder if my life 

is better off dead.

I can make sense of the lunacy

that's all around me

I don't know if that's crazy

or my view seen profoundly.

I don't wish for forgiveness

or a turn of the table

I just try to make sure 

how I live isn't fable.

For those who know just

where they'll land out the door

I am grateful your lucky

keeping your feet on the floor.

I prefer floating where I can watch madness

as I'm thinking of you

I avoid so much sadness.

Then we will be even

brothers in arms

you'll keep your daydreams

and I'll keep my charms.

When it's time to get lucky

you can look up and see

you might have bad timing

you'd be better off me.

For I may be crazy

or genius or both

and you are there planted

Standing still like a post.

So please go on with your riddles

and your laughter and song

and I'll keep on acting

as if I belong.

Both of us will be

in our place, in our time

but floating above all

lets me see I'll be fine.