Clickety-clack down a railroad track Rambling again a long way from home But going away or coming back It just seems some of us need to roam Do we run away or go somewhere And how do we know when we get there?
It is not the getting there we go For but the rambling which makes it right Where we are going we never know But to be free and to own the night Just feels good like being understood Where the only ties are made of wood
Living feels more real on rails of steel Rambling again a long way from home But going away or coming back It just seems some of us need to roam We will never know till we get there Clickety-clack down a railroad track
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 6, 2005, 8:26 pm
I Live Slowly
I live quite close to where the Angels play And also very close to Disneyland A home run might break my window someday Or some sparkling stars from the fireworks land On my lawn like fairies and then be gone
I live near Chapman University And hope their fresh ideas will hasten dawn I live in the Antique Capital of California in a haunted house But the ghosts are kind and only bring love
I have a cat who would not hurt a mouse He and I share life simply and meekly In the Plaza Square by the fountain there I have written six books of poetry And I like to read the OC Weekly
Come visit and go to Starbucks with me And I will show you an alternative To the America some of you know Which goes so fast and thinks that I am slow I live slowly in a nice place to live
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 6, 2005, 7:07 pm
Lunation
Intensely fragile inscrutably agile
The moon is always mesmerizing Transfixing with an unblinking eye Waning waxing falling and rising Shapeshifting light of the midnight sky Never more so nor more surprising
Than at its most rare when it is barely there
When all things are new seen at first blush Miracle of first discovery Heart beating faster face feeling flush The threshold beyond recovery A new moon is like a newborn crush
And the heartbeat of the universe Resonating regulating mine Beats forever for better or worse Rhythm of the mystery divine
When the moon shows its face I see it is my own Earthly life is lived as a lunation unknown
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 5, 2005, 4:10 am
Apples in Autumn
The heater in my forty year-old Chrysler is A massive boiler which sounds like a tea-kettle Whistling on the stove in this crisp autumn weather
It was re-created by a sculptor in his Studio where he is a master of metal In Arizona there he put it together Of solid copper to boil for eternity It whistles just like the old one I remember With the comforting sound of authenticity
Tonight although it is not even November I was grateful to have it and fired it up for A late run for apples to the grocery store
Now I will have to get the house furnace repaired For the moment I rely on a heating pad Underneath me and on top of me a warm cat The repairmen who come to the house have been scared To go down my haunted cellar (imagine that) But I have a back-up plan if things get too bad:
I can always go out in my car to the store I have plenty of apples but I could have more
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 4, 2005, 6:25 am
Guess
I write the words which come into my head And never think about what I will say But follow with an open mind instead As I watch my pencil find its own way
For me it is more interesting to Just settle back and see what it will do And because I am my words come out strange But every word however strange is true
I read it and think maybe I should change What has been written but I know by now That only seems to make it worse somehow What has been written I cannot erase
So I leave it and believe it to be What I was meant to say in any case Since it came from deep down inside of me So many masks yet only this one face
This crisp autumn night this dark of the moon Strange poetry is growing here tonight I guess it is true I am missing you With only these cold distant stars for light
I know you left me back in yesterday But my heart will be touching your heart soon You may not need me but you still read me I guess that is what I was meant to say
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 4, 2005, 2:41 am
The Witching Hour
Midnight again and time to make the coffee strong So much so that it is de facto espresso The night like the coffee is dark and deep but long It will still be here after the coffee is gone
And what it all might mean I might not ever know At least until it is over at which time I The sadder but wiser boy enlightened at last Will be out of time looking back then as I die
So I will make the best of it until that dawn Until then I live in the future of my past I tried to sleep all day but now it is time to Make myself useful and write a poem for you
The snotty and snarky critics have gone away It turns out they were just jealous and unhappy I wish I were like my mother and I could pray For them in their unhappiness but I am not
I can see my father in the mirror today He would simply kill them all and make it snappy But they are making nice now I almost forgot What does it mean when your father is a killer?
My father is a poet and I am his son I could show those sons of b*tches a real thriller But it is midnight now and a new day begun My time the witching hour: good morning everyone
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 3, 2005, 9:08 am
I Believe in Poetry
I believe in poetry Thought distilled and crystallized As artform and therapy By which dreams are realized Spoken to reality
Things which one could never say By poetry are spoken Here the hopeless find a way Out of reach to common speech To hope where hope is broken
Poetry repairs the breach Whether written whether read Hearts connecting each to each Saying what cannot be said Reaching what is out of reach
Stylized speech by which we deal With the world we thus create With loved hated feared and real People things and celebrate Mourn exult cajole debate
Opening closed hearts to feel Opening blind eyes to see Opening deaf ears to hear Opening both you and me There and here and far and near
I believe in poetry
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 2, 2005, 9:26 pm
Why I Write Poetry Every Day
The time I came to write poetry And to do it obsessively was When catastrophe happened to me My world collapsed around me because Of factors in my life which go back To my childhood my birth and before Due to fundamental things I lack I had kind relatives then no more And I was left with my Uncle Jack Who tried to take all I had away Which caused money problems to this day
He stole my inheritance and sued To take my home put me on the street I got a good attorney and beat Him while writing about his attack As outlet while he nearly killed me And now by men like him I am viewed As a threat but they have not stilled me Hotheaded conservatives like him Who always somehow seem drawn to me Make me liberal and take a dim View of their vicious chicanery
So in poetry I found a way To save my sanity day by day
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 2, 2005, 12:24 pm
Stooges
Unsure of what is safe of which to speak Bland broadcasts balance blank banality They seek to push more products than last week I know they are not aiming them at me
The target audience does not know Greek From Greco-Roman but they cannot see The blindness through the blandness anyway But first this is today on NBC
You lost me at hello if you must know Good morning America as you say Tightroping through the time zones red and blue Yesterday tuned in tomorrow today
The kids are trying crystal meth and so No fries with that just supersize the lies Rates of childhood obesity might slow Looking on the bright side is what we do
Pork to the powerful tweak to the weak The rich get richer and around we go The kids are brilliant bittersweet and bleak They know that nothing on TV is true
If someone asked them they could tell you how To fix things but nobody wants to hear You are busy and cannot listen now You wake up in the morning gnawed by fear
How strange it is to grow up in Bush-years Sort of like dog-years only more absurd The second time around is even worse And there will be a third time I have heard
Push products and push people and push fears Disperse them like stars through the universe Push terror and push torture and push tears Our irony will never be the same
The first time silly second time scary No one knows anything no one to blame But it is all just a video game Brought to you by Curly Moe and Larry
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 1, 2005, 9:42 pm
Found and Lost
Surprised by that reflection in my mirror Which presents me with the future of my past I see new dreams by old ones drawn the clearer That I am the selfsame person first and last After all is said and done the only one Who can truly understand the man behind This inversion of reality I see
I know this face so well I could shave it blind We have traveled fifty times around the sun Underneath the cover of this book is me Remaining half unwritten but well begun
There have been exalted pages clarified By incandescent love and mystic yearning And those chapters where I struggled terrified With flame which lent no light but only burning Such that I wondered if I might already Have forfeited my soul and turned to turning Away from right and wrong where light burns steady
Yet here I am still standing after all of The adventures of my years still seeking light As at morning now I am facing the night A lost lonely little boy looking for love
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 1, 2005, 12:01 pm
A Saturday Someone
A Saturday morning walk Overcomes my lethargy
A Saturday morning talk With a someone who cares for A someone to say prayers for A someone overcomes that which overcomes me
A Saturday someone to Keep me company you see
A Saturday someone who Is a someone like me is a someone like you
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 1, 2005, 9:25 am
Truth is Rising
fiat justitia ruat mundus
Had enough yet? No? How much will it take? As you bend over backwards fit to break Explain away the crimes of your leaders Disrespect God yourselves and your readers You threaten me and try to silence me
You bullies are cowards as all shall see
A groundswell of anger is coming for You and your masters and your endless war Based on the lies against which we now rise Your lies and your fears by which you enslave The faithful and make puppets of the brave
Bush Cheney Rove Rice Hastert Frist DeLay God have mercy on you come Judgement Day Truth is rising it is coming on through Truth is marching now and looking for you
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Oct 1, 2005, 1:12 am
Wheel of Fortune
The whole world seems a racket Which the house will always win We wear full metal jacket And are sorry for our sin But we cannot weep away That which is by that which was
Yesterday without today Is a very common cause Of not seeing tomorrow If it ever comes indeed Let hell keep all its sorrow And heaven provide for need
Should the world get too intense Its absurdity too great A common situation As the hour grows dark and late Should poor communication Isolate you lost to fate
Evolve by adaptation Go mad and appropriate The insanity defense For that is what I have done And it works for me you see Let the carnival commence
Wheel of fortune spun unspun Life and death at two to one
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 30, 2005, 9:26 am
Nonsensical Epiphany
Incremental excremental Scientific scatology Eyes wide open and flying blind Purposefully accidental
It seems to me that this would be As good a day as any to Go completely out of my mind So out I go along with you
Step on a crack till I get back Hop in the sack in a hopsack Have a heart and a heart attack Up is the new down white is black
Should you need nonsense I have some Nonsensical epiphany And we can share it over tea We will celebrate when you come
Giving and taking on the make Why do you seek my opinion If you see me as a minion Of the devil for heaven's sake?
Spend the night with a transvestite Coincident incidental Deeply felt where the Bible Belt Found the fun in fundamental
As demigod and demagogue Come to blows then come to agree In superheated dialogue "This is not about you but me"
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 30, 2005, 1:58 am
Spark
They said I was no one nowhere They forgot about answered prayer
But now it looks like I might be Able to write my poetry With skill at will experience Having made all the difference For the better by the letter The help of God some stubbornness And years of sweat: no more no less
I have to write it anyway But now it seems that judgment day Regarding poetry and me Might go a little better than Once thought for this mere misfit man
To laugh last really is the best Thank God and never mind the rest I seem to have "arrived" somewhere I think I might have gotten "there" I guess if you write thousands of Poems and give them all your love In the end it might turn out right
A spark before I lose the light And silent slip into the night
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 29, 2005, 6:21 pm
Make the Most of It
We come we go before we know And we hardly have a chance to Turn around as sunflowers grow Toward the light as we advance to The coming come-what-may each day And the tune which we must dance to
We rush yet let us not forget To see the sights along the way Hurry yet need not let worry Prevent us from being lovers Of love itself of each other Every sister every brother
(As the angel of death hovers)
Impatient fate will never wait Yet let us make the most of it To our mutual benefit Loving dearly seeing clearly That though life can feel so very Real: it is just temporary
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 29, 2005, 7:03 am
Heavy Freight Train
Heavy freight train coming through From across the continent In your song I lie content All alone tonight with you
Coming through my lonesome town Full of shattered dreams and pain Sing your sweet old blues again With us all as we fall down
Heavy freight train shine your light For the broken for the blind Sing with those who weep tonight Solidarity in kind
Other trains in other lands Sing their brighter songs by day My old freight train understands Always night and far away
Here where lonely poets roam Lost and always far from home
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 28, 2005, 9:45 pm
Old as Forever the Eye of a Child
No one can stop the wind nor silence me We travel together ragged and wild My fellow wanderer and I are free Singing and bringing a new point of view Old as forever the eye of a child
Can you hear us? We come singing for you
Some say I am fifty some say fifteen No one understands me nor do I care I know who I am I know what I mean I am a rambler between here and there Looks like a good time for a change of scene
You think you understand but you do not
Now nothing really matters anymore You might have known it once but you forgot Who the poets are and what they sing for You used to be a poet but you lost Your soul somehow: I wonder what it cost
Your ears just cannot listen anymore
Once it is gone then it is gone for good The pencils have no erasers in hell Did you do any good? You sure did well You talk among yourselves are understood I cannot afford what you have to sell
What I say is blown on the wind away
I am a wanderer who sings for free No one can stop the wind nor silence me We travel together ragged and wild And you would rather not hear what we say Old as forever the eye of a child
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 28, 2005, 10:50 am
Two for the Road
Breath of the desert breathing in the fall Under an enigmatic crescent moon Ushering autumn sweeping in the dawn Singing to me in the turning-leaf tree Maybe hope blows in the wind after all Riding in on the desert dawn wind soon
Once I had a love but now she is gone Dried away with summer gone with the night
Breath of the desert you can make things right She went away but you bring a new day Even if I am forever alone The road is worth walking though I know not Where I am going nor where I am blown Bring up the sun now and make it shine hot
Once someone loved me but then she forgot The wind the only constant I have known
Breath of the desert fellow wanderer We are two for the road: we always were
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 27, 2005, 1:41 pm
Together Under the Sky
I like to meet people and look them in the eye Our hands touch our souls touch and we feel we are real In that moment of encounter we both reveal We are meant to stick together under the sky As we wander together here wondering: why?
Notice how we seek each other and you will find The answer between us in the question we ask Without one another we are deaf dumb and blind We need to be together and this is our task To listen to touch not worry so much just be
Together touch by touch all of us you and me And only the lonely will know what I mean but The lonely is everybody no matter what When we come together is when we become free To listen to touch not worry so much just be
We are meant to stick together under the sky I would like to meet you and look you in the eye
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 27, 2005, 3:36 am
Dreamer
Sleep pauses my life to keep me alive A little death to keep great death at bay Deep well where I drink deep think deep and thrive My necessary nourishment each day By which I dream ideas to poetry Through dreaming heaven comes on earth to me
No news is good news now so I refuse To wake up to take up the tidings now The rude intrude but I exclude them use The time to heal when dreams are real somehow To grow to know and then to show them all What I see in dreams sleeping through the fall
I hunker in the bunker of the moon And see more clear than those who lie awake The fall is falling hard now it will shake Their narrow nightmare nation hard and soon In my night visions I see dark and deep That we are most free to be when asleep
When I wake up and make a cup of tea Breathe the scented steam and recall my dream Sleep sifts the grain from chaff and poetry Is born from when I silent lay as dead Its voice is my own as it sings through me Some shout of war I sing of peace instead
Some shout of hate but I will sing of love Whether or not it is granted to me To know it myself at least I know of All the sweet pleasures love brings to this life I once had a lover once had a wife My heart still beats: my best is yet to be
What are we here for? To make love not war Why have we been given heartbeat and breath? To live to love to bring life not bring death Is peace some folly of the innocent? If peace is trespass I do not repent As nightmares come true I will dream for you
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 26, 2005, 10:36 am
Eucharist
The same skull grins Beneath all skins
Struggling for meaning searching the keening Of an obese culture starving to death With an obscene vulture sucking its breath
Seeing my surroundings falling slowly I catch on my tongue one pure and holy Snowflake in the middle of the burning
I can feel my heart my soul returning The hour is late I find myself in Rome An empire falls as I rise: going home
The same skull grins beneath all skins The same Christ died and rose for sins Before behind and after all
A snowflake in the burning fall
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 26, 2005, 8:09 am
Transcendental Sonnet #1422: Suddenly as in Dreams
Carissima mia
I know an angel-girl whose face is on my mind And now her wings unfold within my heart The sight of her so bright it nearly makes me blind
This is the way those happy endings start Which people wish for all their lonely lives so long And my wish tonight is simple and strong:
Angel-girl I would like to be with you tonight I need some help remembering the moon
But if you would come shining in its blue-white light I think all my wrong things would turn out right I know the words I just forgot the tune
Suddenly as in dreams surprising me without warning Come shine your light on me and very soon Even though black night seems endless bright will dawn the morning
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 25, 2005, 12:33 pm
Transcendental Sonnet #1421: Maybe Baby
I come from a line of violent crime A whiff of menace in the air I pet my purring cat and write my rhyme But I always remember where I come from and who I am after all My father was a hitman cool and tall
We made good money in Prohibition The house always wins the roulette wheel spins Even now during this Inquisition Which is the reign of George the Second here Another family founded on fear But they were never cool: and now this fool
All I want to do is write poetry But maybe baby best not mess with me
+Steven Curtis Lance
Copyright MMV
Sep 25, 2005, 9:51 am
Transcendental Sonnet #1420: Young at Any Age
I have punctured egomaniacs Spun some hard-right wackos on their backs And mostly enjoyed the to and fro
But the more I know the less I know The less some know the less this is so They know it all and they always will
These are the people who make me ill And why I hang out with kids these days Since they are not so set in their ways
Those who are young have an open mind Young at any age they leave behind The stupidities which enslave these Prematurely ossified lost souls Who preach doom and gloom from their black holes
