Smile On Ice

Whenever I see your smiling face/I have to smile myself/Because I love you, yes I do/But at the very moment when I smile at you/You turn my whole world blue/'Cause you're ice/You're cold/You're the one I want to hold/But if I do, I might freeze on you/And never
be able to let go

You're so beautiful/The world should obey whatever you say/But it won't, because nature doesn't work that way/But you can still freeze it, that's true/'Cause every time I look at you/My breath stings in my lungs/My heart skips a beat/My skin grows cold/But I'll never grow old/Because in those moments/I can feel time slowing down/The cold of your smile stops God's clock going round/The world stops for a moment/Then jumps back with a start/I can't take all this shuddering/It's making me come apart

Nothing Like You

Nothing kills like you/And the frost of your smile/You freeze my heart, tear me apart/Which is strange considering you would give anything to live my life/Being a rock star isn't a glory/It's just the world's way of punishing good musicians/Having the reporters ooh, ah, and jump over themselves/To tell the world what you were wearing when you ate dinner/And you can't make them go away/All I want is to sing to you each day/But one bad rhyme and the critics shoot me down/You don't buy my cds, cause you just listened to them to be hip/It ends the same if it's my feet that slip or my tongue/I'll try something different, because I want you to be happy/And I'm the one who has it all/Who'll never fall/And you're the one/Who's day is done/And you want my life/And I want you/But the tabloids say, "these are never true"/And my sad smile kills like you

My Flame, My Burn

I smell like smoke/Every time you come round/You're burning me up/I can tell because through the fire and flames/I always see you/You're the one/Every time I burn/You're oil on the flames/And you won't let me go/Because you don't even know you're holding onto me

You're burning me up/You're so hot/The heat's making me blush/Red on my cheeks/On fire in my heart/Burning up me up inside/Making me fall apart/You don't think of yourself as fire/Maybe the sea in winter/But the sea's boiling/And I'm drowning in you/Fire fills my lungs and the air I breath/When you enter the room/And the firemen have all gone home for the day/I never thought I'd feel this way/But oh the heat/Oh the flames

Please oh please/Let it rain/Put out this burning love and pain/But every time you walk into the room/You only stoke the fire more/But when night comes/You'll save me from the cold/I can freeze or I can burn/What can I do?/I can freeze or I can burn/I can't help being drawn to your flame/Freeze or burn/Let the cold claim me/Or pitch into the flame/I'm gonna burn, for calling your name

Squirrels

It is a little known fact about me, but I love squirrels. They are like little personifications of Nature, small, energetic, clever and entirely unreadable. You can't see into their heads and figure out what they are thinking; you can only guess. Actually, they seem not to even think. Just as the wind and the waves of the sea are unthinking moving parts of Nature, squirrels dash about, but seem to have only the harmony of Nature behind them as a driving force. Interesting little tree rats. Although, if you look hard, you might be able to see the dragon inside them.

You're The End Of My Life

You're the end of my life
As I walk down life's path
I'm standing on a hill
And I can see the end of my life
It's far away, thank goodness
Yet closer than I might have expected
Heart disease, well
I've tried to eat healthy, but it looks like it didn't work out
But the grandkids are thick, crowding the hospital room
And those must be my children, thankfully they all have
Some of my physical traits
But who is that beside me?
Who is holding my hand?
You? It's you? But you...
I don't understand
We were friends from when I was little
But then it became something more
Only to slid away like sand
You were lost to me
You? How can it be you?
I'm happy, but I don't understand
I guess the only thing to do
Is wait and see
How it came to be
That you're the end of my life

C.D.

I have some news. Most of my posts have been "lovesickyish" ones. Due to recent life changes, my focus has shifted off of these matters, and more to the goal of totally dominating life. I've vowed not to let love, hate or friendship drag me down. Why should you let love for a person grab you and smash you into the gutter? Love can ruin your life. And why should you let someone's hate of you push you down? You have no reason to just lie down; stand strong and don't fall. And I'm not willing to sacrifice my health, happiness and future for the sake of sinking down to share a friend's misery. Instead this is what I plan to do. I'm focusing on achieving the best life I can, and I'm not giving it up if the person I choose to get ensnared in love with is on a lower level of life. Instead, the only option is for me to help her up. If someone hates me; well, nuts to them. They can't bring me down, so it's like they don't even exist. And I won't go down for friends; I can only lift them up. My philosophy towards life can be summed up in two little words: carpe diem. Latin words, both of them. Seize the day. Grab it, and never let it go. If you're not daring, if you don't let everyone know what you think of them, if you don't stretch the limits of the life cut out for you, you might end up with an ok life. An average one. Nothing special. Just like you. Ok. Average. Not special. People who are beyond what you think possible for them didn't get that way by being passive. C.D. and not compact disc. Carpe Diem, seize the day, or else you'll never be the way you want to. Burn those words into your brain. Sear them on the surface of your gray thinking matter. You only have the rest of your life, so hurry up and get living! Always stay the way you were, only a little better than you were. Remember; C.D.

Carpe Diem

(I'm Getting) Closer (To What I Really Want To Say)

It didn't end that night
In fact it just started
You're stuck in my heart
And you'll have to kill me to make me give up
I'll turn off all of the lights
And try to tell you how I feel
But I can't put it the way I want with words
At least, none you've heard
I'd die for you
I'd throw myself off the edge of the world
Or off a cliff, or down the stairs
I can't control the way I feel for you
If I could I wouldn't be writing this
But you're the only thing I think about
And the only person
I'd turn off the lights
If you prefer the dark
I could extinguish the sun, because nothing's impossible for me to do
If I'm doing it for you
Why am I doing this to us?
I'm doing it even though I still know that it won't work
For the rest of them, and you
You just don't love me cause you don't know who I am

Just Another Poem (Cause That's What I'm Here For)

Have I said all I want to?
Have I done everything I could?
If so, why do I feel the same
Why am I still living under the same old name?
What went wrong, or did I not give it time to go right?
What makes you fear the night?
The time when your world goes dark
And you're all alone, I've hit the mark
You don't want to be alone
You want someone to be with you
In your mind, anyway
You want someone to be thinking of you
Every moment of every day
You need someone to need you
For it to wreck her life if you go away
And you'll never leave her
Cause your life wouldn't ever be the same
The sun would have dropped from the sky
And the moon would have given up and died
Poets can never find the right words to say
To complete their passions, for they were made that way
(Can't you please guess, guess what I'm trying to say?)

My Heaven

When this world gets too hard to take
When you can't make it slide
Sometimes you have to make your own Heaven
You're having a bad time
The one you had last night
Reheated and ready to serve
But you can't take it again
So you take out your Heaven
This world gets hard to take
That's a fact of life and death
But your Heaven can always come
Come on in and replace the world
A mental medication
My little slice of Heaven
Oh, my very own Heaven
You're my own little slice of Heaven
That's you
My Heaven

Someone Else's Song

I don't know how to start this song/All the beginnings have been taken/I'm the latest lovestruck lad/To decide to write a love song/But all of its been said before/All these words have been sung/Before they were original/This comes just after the last original one

You can guess at the love I feel for you/You hear it every day on the radio/And on your cds at home/I want to tell you in a way to impress/But every line I want to sing/Fall Out Boy has the copyright on/I can't put it into my own words/'Cause they were stolen out of my mouth before I even thought of them/This is someone else's song

What it comes down to/I love you very much/And I can't say it in a new way/Or one to hit the charts/'Cause this is just a teenage heartache/Loverboy's heartbreak song/But the words were wrote wrong/It's all already been said/This is someone else's song

For Every Boy...

For every boy with a whole heart
There's a girl with beauty and a gun
And for every lonely girl
There are five boys who promise to be the
Perfect one
Maybe you won't find out
Maybe I won't be found out
Love breaks hearts
Causes false starts
And can't you see what you mean to me
Can't you bear to see what's there
I hope you'll understand
When I kneel and take your hand
'Cause for every boy with a whole heart
There's a girl with beauty and a hammer
And for every girl with a broken heart
There are five boys who want to put back a part

I Know, or, Golden Deal

Think of your friends. I know you have them; everyone has friends, and no one is completely immune to the friendly bug. Now, do you have a friend with a golden deal on life? You know, someone who everything seems to right for. Like the world finds some compassion in its heart, and grants them happiness. They have their own little troubles, but they are not affected by them. They stay rays of sunshine, letting their friends and family be rewarded by their presence. These Golden Dealers are not egocentric, nor are they nasty. They are, on the contrary, unusually nice. People love to know them. But there is one funny thing about them: They are never Golden Dealers to themselves. They may recognize that they are lucky or blessed, but they don't see themselves as having a Golden Deal on life.

I know what it's like, knowing a Golden Dealer. I also know what it's like to have a bronze deal on life. But I can use alchemy, and turn my bronze to gold. If you want to too, all you have to do is become perfectly content with your life. That's both easier and harder than it sounds. Most of your life might be easy to accept, but there is bound to be something you'll have to work on. Or maybe not. You might have perfect contentment on Earth right in front of you. If you do, you are lucky. You are a veritable leprechaun, that's how lucky you are. But for all the Golden Dealers, stay sunny, and spread your sunshine around to make the world a better place. And for all you people down in the dirt; I know how you feel, and if you dig a little, you might find gold.

A Song, Not A Lament

I'd have done something before/If I'd only known/But time trudges on/And hopes flutter down/To land upon the dirt/With hardly a sound

I should've seen it coming/Should've read the signs/Understood what was being said/With those trifling words/If only, if only/I could have heard/But time trudges on/And hopes flutter down/To land upon the dirt/With hardly a sound

Maybe we'll meet again someday/In a foreign city, far away/Or maybe at the coffee shop down the street/I would give it all to heaven, should we meet/But time trudges on/And hopes flutter down/To land upon the dirt/With hardly a sound

Feeling So Good, Look Out World

It's coming on again
That flying high feeling
When the world's rolling too fast and you're falling off the edge
You know you're just setting yourself up to come down
Cause no one deserves to be that happy
And the world won't let it stand
But that one instant makes it all worth while
When you feel you can't go wrong when you know you will and you don't
And who can tell you what to do? you're king of the world
The laws of physics were made to be broken
All these words were made to be spoken
Now just to pick between all these one true loves
Dark eyed crows and white doves
They say just wing it, mine aren't ready yet
But the edge is coming up
Gotta pick, might be sick
But who can stop me?
I'm king of the world

I'd Make You A Sandwich

• Don't be afraid of anything I say
• I wouldn't want you to feel that way
• I'm almost a stranger, I'm a strange friend
• One who never wants our friendship to end
• Oh, I think you're lonely, I hope you are
• Cause that's the only way I'll get to you

• Crying at night, I think I hear you crying too
• Or is it the sound of the wind in the trees
• Oh wind, carry her words to me
• Be our messager, give us the air to speak

• But maybe you don't want me
• Maybe I'm not what you want from life
• Well then, tell me what it is so I can find it for you
• I would get you gold, jewels, anything you choose
• I'd make you a sandwich, make you a world
• Make the heavens tumble down
• What would you have me do?
• I think that it'd be too much to hope for
• For you to ask me to love you
  

Dead Poets Society

Last night I watched the movie "The Dead Poets Society" for the first time. Amazing. It is a very powerful movie. It didn't carry a message that was super clear, that anyone who just happened to watch the movie could see. The message required you to discover what it was, and you can only do that if you tap into the poet inside you. It's there, you just have to find it.

One of the messages in the movie is the fact that almost all men and boys have poets inside them. It's just that the poet usually gets pushed away. But he is there. Men make themselves into something other than what they should be. They should be poets, lovers, dreamers and romantics. They should look beyond their physical selves and appreciate the creative genius inside themselves. Inside each teenage boy, fueled by passion and every other emotion it's possible to have, lurks a maker of worlds, a charmer of women, a painter of beautiful paintings. Someone who dreams, and carries those dreams into the "real" world. Inside the boy who runs by himself on the football field; he has one of the most influential novels ever written, a bible of emotional rather than spiritual revelations. The middle aged man who works hard every day to support his family; he holds poems inside that could bring he and his wife back to the days when they were young and courted by the schoolyard wall. Why does this happen? This wasting of talent for the sake of "being a man." Wouldn't a real man be tapping into the revelations inside him? Or would he blindly turn away from that to a dumb, silent reactionary world? Why? Why do they sacrifice their poets for the chance to be a crude brute?

Little Girl With The Dusky Eyes

Hey little girl/With the dusky eyes/Holding inside her secret surprise/Hey little girl/Your innocence blinds/Hold it, keep it, deep inside/As you grow and start to know/Of all the dark and terror/Don't forget the little girl inside/Who watched the world with dusky eyes

Old Tales

Snow falls down onto the city
Silencing our "advanced" society
Hushing the cars and the noise
The city falls asleep
Inside homes, some old fathers
And mothers turn out the lights
And tell tales that their grandparents told them
Who heard it from their grandparents who heard it from theirs
Going back until the tales were born in far off lands
In the bitter grip of winter
When legends were told for the first time
By the ones who saw them themselves
The elves walking through the snow
While the wind blows and shadows move
Across the snow
Creeping out of corners into the hearts of their people
The superstitious ones, the tale tellers
The ones who ruin our children
Who fill their heads with nonesense
But the children listen to the tales
And then they leave; one there, two there
Until only a few are left
These last few are the talelisteners
The dreamers unconfined by science
And laws made by it
They know that in the winter science dies
And they listen to the oldest tales
While their parents shudder from behind the door
Then the dreamers, the tale believers go out into the snow
To look for elves and unknown things
That lurk in winter's darkness
The dreams flee them just beyond their sight
I hear them outside my window
For I'm a taleteller, a superstitious one
And magic is real in the heart of winter
And in the hearts of the dreamers

Would The Man In The Back Please Stand Up, or, Yo, What's Up?

Ever notice how there are always people in the back? At anything from, say, a rock concert to a seminar on how to chop wood, there is always a back row. Same thing with peace and equality. Everyone is not on the same level. In a world where everything is happy and peaceful, and everyone is equally important and given the same rights, there will always be a secret percent of the population that will be downtrodden and controlled. It's human nature: you stand taller if you're standing on someone else. Slavery and servitude will never be gone, but they can be pushed away for while. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep over the condition of the world? Well, stop it. What does the world care for a single person's tears. They are non existent. A better way to spend your time would be to try and change the world. But the inertia of Homo Sapiens is impressive. A better strategy for changing it would be walking along with it in a slight curve, rather than trying to make it go backwards. A slight curve will bring you where you want to be sooner or later. But back to the man in the back. He's sitting there, listening to the music and learning how to chop wood. He wants to be in the limelight, but, he's at the back. No chance for him to be in front. When suddenly he sees the rockstar/lumberjack gesture at him, and seems to hear him say "Hey, man in the back! Get up here!" He slowly trods up to the stage and climbs on. And he can't believe it when the rockerjack says to him, "So, what's up?"