12th of Never

When you sleep in the dead of night
The nightmares control your life...
And why do the needles of pain persist
When you close your eyes?
Did you turn to the darkness and scream
To try and stop all the dreams?
You can't hide. The mental embrace
Has taken your place...
Now you're locked inside, lost inside.
Nobody mentions the world that still seethes
In the deepest addictions of dreams.
When you crawl in under your skin,
You will let me in.
As the veil of this world fades away
And the light turns gray,
Demons hide in the corners to steal you away
When you close your eyes.
Cruel indeed are the worlds you create
As you stand at the gate of your mind.
Despair... emptiness...
The horror... and yes,
You're lost inside, locked inside.
Frozen in fear, shrouded in tears,
The child you were then is still here
Locking the years away... sanity severed
Returning the 12th of Never.

This is one of may favorite pieces of imagery that I've written. It's obviously a song. It's the follow-up to the song My Room. Feel free to have a listen to 12th of Never at MrHappyMusic.com.

Four More Years

Playing wild, the dying children
From the gutter they spawn
A life created of indignation
Pride and seeker pause

Pig city, oil creation
Over sex-dosed the junk machine crawls
Missing is the laughter, from the death bus
While the eternal human war rages on

Can you believe how little you care?

The friendly face of the Empire leader
Conquest of style, ego hate
Walk amongst the dogs
While the violence kills the declined state

Have you eaten today?
I am glad
Your digestion is the sorrow of the hungry
So tired of rejection and stupidity

Cut away to Grey man
Isolation room, a crowd gathers
Fade to riot, as the furor screams deliverance
The claws of the predatory corporation dig deep
Into the naïve religion culture

Acceptance, blind to virtue
Their reason taunts the absurd
The beggar, he feeds the anger
As you burn sorrow's last word

Pain create the answer holy
Learn the lesson, passion learned
Hate the teachers, oh, so saintly
I kiss the pyre as it burned

Our need flows on, but we feel nothing
While emotion kills with no remorseful deathblow from Jesus
Only you can turn the key
To unlock the tortured riches inside your soul
And find the reason we live

Like some sort of God rejection
Place the blame on heads that turn
You watch the dagger rip through masses
As wheat and grain and corn
Dry into a hatred reality,
Screaming into a vengeful pit....

Pitiful scream!!

The heart goes forward hating
Wanting life that cannot be attained
Justice seeker, pray for vengeance
The purist life is marred and stained

I want the world to heal
I want the world to love
But it cannot

4 More Years....

Beginning... End

They walk in lines... two by two.
Numbering many, yet countless few
Understand the path they take.
With torch in hand, they'll never wake you.
Footsteps flow through feelings... sorrow,
Ensuring that you'll see tomorrow.
Performing not what people do.
They march with flames and dreams to show.
Like all before, their time has come
To take their fire... make it one
Ball ablaze to light the world
Until -- at length -- the final hurl's done.
A massive light, as shadows hide
In crevices deep within, inside.
And all at once, unleashed at last,
Another day will come to pass by.
All too fleeting it does appear,
But a lifetime to those who've gathered here.
They join hands... quiet, movement slow.
A welcomed tear has come to know fear.
And in the breeze, they fade away
As twilight puts to sleep the day.
The fire made a lifetime ago
By apparitions, wraiths, and souls may
Someday be remembered well...
Of when two lovers heard the bell...
Of when a mother first held her child...
Or when you laughed all the while, well
Then their lives were not in vain.
They thrive in every drop of rain.
As each new soul takes place in line,
Forever remaining silent, blind... sane.

A Dead Past

Spare her at least… look, you have taken from me
The Present, and I murmur not, nor moan
The Future too, with all her glorious promise
But do not leave me utterly alone

Spare me the Past – for, see, she cannot harm you
She lies so white and cold, wrapped in her shroud
All my own… and, trust me, I will hide her
Within my soul, nor speak to her aloud

I folded her soft hands upon her bosom
And strewed my flowers upon her – they still live
Sometimes I like to kiss her closed white eyelids
And think of all the joy she used to give

Cruel indeed it were to take her from me
She sleeps, she will not wake – no fear – again
And so I laid her, such a gentle burthen
Quietly on my heart to still its pain

I do not think that any smiling Present
Any vague Future, spite of all her charms
Could ever rival her. You know you laid her
Long years ago, then living, in my arms

Leave her at least – while my tears fall upon her
I dream she smiles, just as she did before
As dear as ever to me – no, it may be
Even dearer still – since I have nothing more

(For my mom, Carol A. Walker Scroggins
March 1st, 1948 - May 5th, 2009)

Twilight Glow

As day's quiet embers dwindle with the ensuing owllight,
You reflect on the day that's soon to be another night.
You fear you may not have made the best of the short time,
For it's all become a crossroad where you linger in your mind.
And standing at the crossroad's edge, you're torn between two paths:
First, a winding, tortuous road and the straight, direct road last.
Bewildered at which path to take, you negate either one
Choosing to pave your own way before the light has gone.
'Cause time will draw to close someday, and how should they recall
The life you lead? Did you leave a mark or strive for it all?
Was it but a tale no longer touted for lack of idiom?
Or was it such a fury not soon forgotten by anyone?
Either it may be, the option is yours to make.
And with your newfound path is the step you must take
To become the person you always felt you should be.
It's time to open up your mind, your heart... be free.
Live each passing day as though another's not behind,
For tomorrow's but a dream of the sorry and the blind.
And all those disappointed with every passing day,
Living up to their potential eludes them on their way.
Take comfort, this is not the fate to befall the open heart,
Within the realm of possibility you'll make a brand new start.
And reflect on all that's happened, confident and right,
As day's quiet embers dwindle with the ensuing owllight.

Cross Press

Across the landscape of a terrified emotion,
Feeling much more than anticipated,
I streak through with little more than my own naïvety
Until I'm caught between myself and you....
And what of the world that deteriorated
When the stars all fell from the screen?
What of the hopes of the young
And the memories of the old?
What of the "could've-beens" and "should've-beens"?
And where are the friends that promised
To stand by through thick and thin?
Where are they all now?
I witness no more for all that was
Is not now and never shall be again.
Loneliness is all that's there.
As I reach into my bag of tricks
Nothing remains... alone....

The Joy Of Truly Being Alone

A picture-painted melody of lights dance across your eyes.
A smile of forgotten happiness seaps through your disguise.
And glowing thoughts of futures passed... intrinsically forsaking,
Letting loose of inhibitions, we see now what you're making.
A lonely soul, was once, no more for time has healed the wounds
That were but left gaping, hoping, yearning for the moon
To turn its weary eye upon your sleepless, furrowed brow.
Love had turned its back on you and left you here somehow.
Yet slowly -- over time, I see -- you found within yourself
That joy can overcome the pain... freeing you from your shell.
And all life's little treasures reveal themselves anew
Alone? Yes, you may be... but to lonely a sweet adieu.
You've found, after all this time, they're not the same as you'd thought.
Alone you are proud to be to suffer the joy it's wrought.
I'll view the picture quietly and discern for my own taste
One mustn't awaken someday to discover one's life a waste.
And if you aren't careful -- slip by will a smile or two,
And you might find the mask you wear isn't so bulletproof.

A Face Of Winter

As lofty billows of smoke
Escape the snare of gravity
The city, illuminatingly elegant
Portrays a face of winter.
With crystalline sculptures
In the shape of manmade structures,
The moon hovers quiet
So as not to interrupt
Giving freshly fallen snow
A shimmer here and there.
And it seems the whole world
Must be frozen -- departed
For there is scarcely little
To disturb the thoroughfares.
People rarely wander
On nights such as this,
Leaving a quiet metropolis
Where once was such a flutter.
And as I scan from my vantagepoint
I see I am but alone
To realize such splendor
For I've the only image in sight.
And I understand why people
Regard winter as dreary,
Because they've not experienced
A face of winter such as this...
The beautifully blanketed city
Immersed in shades of blue.