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Selected Poems of Steven Curtis Lance

Displaying Poems 1501 thru 1525 of 2819 Poems

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May 19, 2008, 8:06 pm


Keep on Dreaming

If you ask me to explain life to you
I suppose you might be disappointed
To find I left my explaining behind
When I looked for an explanation too
But found mine fragmented and disjointed
Since each who would explain had lost his mind

Then is when I realized how few knew
That what is worth knowing cannot be taught
What cannot be taught can only be learned
And what is worth having cannot be bought
What cannot be bought can only be earned

Dreams live to be lived so that ours may be
Illuminated lives where dreamers see
Circles above us reflected below
Where we catch what we might never pursue
But has pursued us here for all we know

Dreams are what create us as they come true
After giving us nightmares for so long
Becoming the essence of who we are
Having not killed us they have made us strong
Enough anyway to have come this far
So keep on dreaming whatever you do

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 19, 2008, 12:36 am


Lucky

Actions have consequences some have learned
For better or worse in this universe
Having played with fire having gotten burned
Things change for the better then for the worse
But the best things stay still steady and small
And to be forgiven is best of all

In order to ever learn anything
We have to make a series of mistakes
And put up with a certain suffering
But almost everyone has what it takes
To be able to hit bottom and bounce
Or get some help by the eighth of an ounce

Some play with fire and yet seldom get burned
And one of these lucky ones might be me
Nor am I certain if I ever learned
Anything anytime actually
My life has been a series of mistakes
Preserved by a series of lucky breaks

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 17, 2008, 11:49 pm


Start at the End

I start at the end of my beginning
Surprised to see it come for me so soon
But past losing now I could start winning
Even as I wax to a waning moon
Awakening on the road not taken
Because the road from which none may return

Since I have always been a late bloomer
Here at the end of beginning I see
How a seed of truth gave root to rumor
Then grew up to be this reality
Which is not real but is absurd humor

I try to enjoy my absurdity
And having begun to end know I won
A present which my past would not allow
Such good as I have done is not undone
But spreads throughout the universe to you

What has been done and has been one with me
Survives only up to the point of true
Whichever end of beginning might be
End is beginning whatever I do
Presenting me the sharpened edge of now

And the lotus unfolds aright somehow
Preventing me from ruining it all
By taking it all too seriously
As a shrouded speck on a clouded ball
Which despite its depression keeps spinning

Despite this digression I am winning
Whatever it is I win at this game
If not a good number then a good name
Some of us take a good shaking to learn
As I was shaken so I awaken
To start at the end of my beginning

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 17, 2008, 12:08 am


Grandma

I carry in my heart a little light
A diamond in a secret pocket there
A tiny star to follow through the night
Kept close and carried with me everywhere

And this is my Grandma actually
A spark in the dark she left here for me

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 14, 2008, 10:07 pm


Franziska's Song: The Return

Your skin is copper and your heart is gold
Your soul is priceless so that it is free
To belong to God and not be for sale
As you shine and share it sumptuously

Your eyes are like a tiger's and as bold
I feel them as they penetrate and see
Like probing unknown tongues of primal flame
To burn me back to where I want to be

The young learn from yet also teach the old
When love returns (if by another name)
And the most surprising thing I have learned
Is (with all my heart): I want you with me

A tiger looked at me and I got burned
As if I had been branded in the heart
Or was it your heart (since we feel the same)?
Let the fire fall free: let the magic start

A lion in winter now roaring once more
A circle completing below as above
An after which proves to be more than before
The return (if by another name) of love

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 12, 2008, 9:12 pm


A Call to Revolution

All over the world the children learn to hate
By traditional means unspoken and still
As part of the rest of the rust of their fate
Then some seem surprised when they grow up to kill

The children are only following orders
Like their parents did and their grandchildren will
Each generation gives blood for the borders
Since that is how they have been posted and drawn
In the dirt with the blood of the human race

Until the madmen in their maprooms have gone
To wherever the madmen of maprooms go
Children will be trained to be ground in the mill
To keep the blood fresh so the borders will show

That blood in that dirt once wore a human face
But the brain behind that face would never know
The answer or even what question to ask
Their blood was required to draw lines in the sand
Unspoken and still they were bred for the task

So they never had a chance to understand
The machinations of the maproom madmen
Only that the time had come to bleed once more
Fellow humans are you not weary of war?

It will end when we end it by saying when
Too much is enough and by asking what for
And why they need our blood to mark the border
Keep our blood in and let our souls out to soar
Past maproom madmen to a higher order

No license to kill no license to steal
No license to grind our children away
The madmen in the maproom are not real
But ghosts to scatter by the light of day

In our evolution we found revolution
If once did not suffice then we must do it twice

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 11, 2008, 8:36 pm


Falling Stars Mistaken for Landing Airliners

I feel like I am utterly at sea
And that I might go down now with my ship
If you have any idea what to do
Some notion of what might become of me
Then I will shut up and listen to you
But until then I might very well scream

Smothered to sleep unable to waken
From nightmares of an American dream
I believe in though my faith is shaken
By post-traumatic stress of yesterday
Links in the chain of the past forged to last
Still stressful and still traumatic today
Connecting with new and holding me fast

I have to slip away before I slip
Beneath the sea of consciousness and go
Into the quiet embrace of the dark
Where no one will wake and no one will know
(I would not go quietly even so)

Though it is not often that dreams come true
It has happened to me and might again
Even when the dream seems to be taken
Even when there seems no end to the pain
(I am the tinder and you are the spark)

I hope to arise when I awaken
Sadder but wiser if worse for the wear
And tattooed with a bloody heart-shaped stain
Having learned the hard way how much I care
After this madness to find myself sane

But when I awaken will you be there?
I believe you will be as you have been
Because you have always understood how
I feel and have always known what I mean
Always and ever (never more than now)

Down here where falling stars are mistaken
For landing airliners out at John Wayne
New houses and new people look the same
While at our old house some want us to lose
But they are just jealous and not to blame
Since they know that we know that was no plane
We see what we saw and saw what we see

I am a falling star and you are too
Fortune dealt me this hand and I refuse
To play for less than the ultimate game
One you and I together now can win
The clock ticks louder then strikes to begin
To deal where only two players remain

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 10, 2008, 12:01 pm


Just So

Though the day grows long and late
This unique ubiquity
Calling us together here
Personal propinquity
Stretching out from far to near
"Diesen Kuss der ganzen Welt"
Human solidarity
Always (if not always felt)

This is what I celebrate
Even though I know we go
To where we have never been
Sooner than we ever know
When the cycle turns again
Cloud above and smoke below
The fog of the world between

Time is neither fast nor slow
Time is only now
Overlapping you and me
As now will allow
All its pleasure all its pain
Felt (not knowing how)
In this moment of this day

Never mind the past
Forward is the only way
(There is no reverse)
Never mind what others say
(Theirs was even worse)
Now is neither slow nor fast
But the universe
Just the way it is: just so

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 7, 2008, 12:18 am


Wake Up and Scream

We speak of secret weapons yet secrets themselves
Carried close to the breast are both simplest and best
As the most potent weapons life has on its shelves
If you can keep secrets you can keep all the rest

My father was the one who kept the secrets and
Kept them better than anybody I have known
As casual as the gun beneath his pillow
As much a part of him as the gun in his hand
He traded for a silent deathbed all alone
And (although I do not want to) I understand

He left this world knowing things are not as they seem
Because of people like him and of what they do
Which must have seemed still stranger to him than to me
As well as his last wife (the one I never knew)
When after his silence and the thought of it he
Died with his nightmares as I was trying to dream

Knowing only shadows of the secrets he knew
Some stories of former lives from some former wives
(Although not from my mother who would never say
One way or the other since she was my mother)
I remain secretly proud of his derring-do
His swash of the buckle and all that sort of thing
From a gun for hire to the keeper of a king

If they wanted it done my father was the one
To pull the trigger or make bad things happen but
Then he turns out to have this poet for a son
Although I was a secret and nobody knew
Except for him except for me one life for two

Looking back I can see how his friends kept an eye
On my result of his youthful indiscretion
Dark men in dark clothing at dark hours of the night
Presents of his absence to watch (no matter what)
The son of an oak grow up to be a willow

Alone as he was on the knife of madness I
Can see how he was wrong now yet how he was right
But I wish he had told me life would be this way
His love was denial as mine is confession
My father is a secret his son cannot keep

Still waters run red and deadly as well as deep
His nightmares are mine now as I wake up and scream

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








May 3, 2008, 10:54 pm


Human Being

Muscle into metal flesh into plastic
The fading of feeling to twilight of touch
We were so much happier when we were weak
But they tell us happiness is for the strong
The past would prefer that the future be bleak

So they lie to us though they know they are wrong
And gears grind our hearts down until life is such
Heaviness the disappointment so drastic
It becomes nothing less nor more than too much
To bear anymore before we have to speak

If only to recall how it felt once to
Forget about hoping and simply to be
Forget about trying and simply to do
Forget about pleasing them and pleasing me
Yet never to forget remembering you

I exist within my imagination
Imagining myself into existence
A shadow reflecting on its creation
As a web of perspectives held in suspense
A contradiction called a human being

In defiance of the mechanization
Of our once-celebrated fragility
And a past which prefers the future delay
Or else never come at all but if it does
Tomorrow is expected as yesterday

They say we cannot remember how it was
But only the way we imagine it now
We can only see in the present because
This is our human being way of seeing
We have eyes but for what our eyes will allow

I have seen enough to know I want to see
A little peace and quiet here at the last
Not of the rocking chair but of the rocking
Of the womb of life itself and not too fast
So I can hear such wonders as come knocking

The future comes looking a lot like the past
Without of course coming because it does not
There is no escape from this moment somehow
Except to no longer exist but that way
Is closed to me down a dark road I forgot

Blinded for now to momentary seeing
I see all I have is this humanity
Which frustrates those who would control by freeing
The soul increasingly until it is free
A contradiction called a human being

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 30, 2008, 10:27 pm


Up in the Trunks of Elephants

Smuggled up in the trunks of elephants
And over the smoky mountains far away
Then all the way to me: I tried it once
And decided to try again every day

I enjoy a coffee in the morning
(Unless I hear of a new cancer warning
Of course) and keep a constant pot of tea

But what has helped most in times of trouble
Is the universal herbal remedy
Prescribed and administered respectfully

Medical marijuana: a constant pot
Blooming beautiful buds of the cannabis kind
To adjust attitudes altitudinally

It keeps me from going out of my mind
Releasing what I forgot to memory
While expanding my consciousness to double
Whatever it was before I forgot

Snuggled up in the trunks of elephants
Where mother ganja rocks me to be free

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 28, 2008, 12:13 pm


Could it Be?

Here I am and there you are
Alone as we can be

Each beneath a far blue star
In the solitariness
Of the arbitrariness

The extraordinariness
Of our separation here
Together you and me

Across the darkened universe
Sad eyes opening start to see
A stitch in the fabric of time
Where as in poems people rhyme

Do you believe in magic?

It is far but it could be far worse
In the starlight of a night so clear

And I believe in magic

Could your star and mine be the same?
Could what we think is far be near?
Could here be there and there be here?

Could it be?

Reach out your hand with all your heart
Believe we are neither to blame
And I will too

Two beneath one far blue star
Together you and me
There I am and here you are
Waiting for the magic to start

Of loving you

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 27, 2008, 6:35 am


Robert Frost and Me (Like a Chimpanzee)

"Diabolically intelligent"
Is how I read my cousin Robert Frost
Was and how he looked like a chimpanzee
In his great age (one thing by two things meant)
Mortal yet meant for immortality

I would buy my cousin's books if they cost
Less but can get them from the library
"Diabolically intelligent"
Sounds a wonderful way to me to be
(Even if he looked like a chimpanzee)

If younger cousin still an older guy
But lovely ladies love my poetry
And this has always been enough for me

I am celibate not quite knowing why
Which seems more mere habit than anything
Holding me back from having one last fling

Yet I wonder if Aristotle flung
Or old Homer having sung ever swung:
What of the love-life of the man of mind?

I want to come to life before it goes
Like Yeats I bloom within my heart a rose
But roses like hearts must be left behind

The one thing I can take will be this soul
When I must return (as we all must learn)
My piece out of the puzzle of the whole

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 26, 2008, 1:46 am


Mirrors

They live in glass houses: mirrors for eyes
An entirely different breed of cat
Always supposing themselves to be right
My meetings with them have suggested that
If they could they would wear boots to their thighs
And quite possibly have it in for me

All these years I have stayed out of trouble
By staying in with my portion double
To the kind of trouble mirrored eyes see
More for the doctor than the officer
Not worn outside but treasured inwardly
Though probably neither would understand

Mirrors and I agree to disagree
About troubles which are but never were

I live in a dark place: shadows for eyes
An entirely different breed of cat
It feels like where I am is always night
Your meetings with me have suggested that
If you would I could help you realize
There are many forms of reality

All these years I have wondered about things
Jumped in with both feet to find for myself
Places where the bird of paradise sings
Observed in the wild not stuffed on some shelf
To hold the important things by the hand
Treasures of the heart for eternity

Mirrors and we agree to disagree
About triumphs which are and always were

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 24, 2008, 2:55 am


Confluence

These are the moments when our two lives touch
Like the confluence of underground streams
Little things which in the end mean as much
As big things because these things are our dreams
These are the moments of life lived as such

Without the mirror of another soul
Reflecting the me another can see
My perspective is only half the whole
And lacking in complementarity
To be my brother's keeper is my role

We reflect each other but we are two
The better to see another can be
The best thing for whatever might ail you
As you are for whatever might ail me
We dream and think and talk but then we do

With a friend like you can I get through this
And come out laughing on the other side?
Just make the pain stop never mind the bliss
Or other blessings we have been denied
(When I pull the trigger I never miss)

The moments of life must be lived as such
Bright rainbow-falls fed by underground streams
Little things which in the end mean as much
As big things because these things are our dreams
These are the moments when our two lives touch

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 23, 2008, 3:53 am


Heaven Knows

for Stephanie

So hard to believe but heaven knows we try
Since faith is a gift and few are so gifted
Such a rush to get it done before we die
The tide goes out before our boats get lifted
And so we are left to wait here high and dry
Sitting in the sand to watch the seagulls soar

They say the tide might turn in a tidal wave
And break our boats like it broke our hearts before
We stay by our boats not because we are brave
But because these are all we have and no more

And we always seem to feel so far from where
It seems possible to have a soul to save
From where we thought we ought to be while right there
Before us the angels adore us as we
Who try to make the best of a thing not fair
Surprise each other to feel like family

Not based on baked potatoes but earth and air
Not on life insurance but water and fire
The universe belongs to us if we care
To embrace it as the heart of our desire

We let go to get the desire of our heart
Nothing more nor less than pleasant company
Forget the real and let reality start
Close our eyes and dream we are able to see
Stop rushing and learn to live before we die
So hard to believe but heaven knows we try

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 21, 2008, 9:36 pm


Bad Hair Day?

Let the wind arrange my hair how it should be
If tousling is required by a universe
Which knows best (in any case better than me)

Poets look better when the weather is worse
Like Robert Frost when he read for Kennedy
Like Longfellow out at midnight all day long
Tousled in his mural at the library
(Or of course like Whitman any time at all)
Some wind through the hair makes a poet look... strong

The wind of the spirit the breath of the heart
The rising and then the falling of the breath
Signals to the drums for the parade to start
So the marching band can march to life from death

Shining Sousaphones now stand at attention
To strike up sudden and subterranean
Ready to root rainbows from bottom to top
Like a geyser or inverted waterfall
With colors too bright and many to mention
Except to recall them again and again

I feel the wind and never want it to stop
If tousling is required by the universe
Poets look better when the weather is worse

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 20, 2008, 3:17 am


Imagining the Unimaginable In

I have seen the unimaginable begin
To seem imaginable and something like glad
To help me unimagine what I imagine
Imagining the unimaginable in

What is unimaginable need not be bad
Perhaps a family friend as familiar guest
Not invited nor welcomed but nonetheless here
Before my face in any case ready or not

I can imagine some parts and forget the rest
But I will always recall the absurdity
Of madness as the reason for no-matter-what
And for the madness done no-matter-what to me
(How to have been used is how to have been abused)

If the curtain must fall I remember its rise
The first and last become one in the memory
I wonder if anyone can see in my eyes
That I have seen the unimaginable now

I will imagine muddling through the day once more
I think I can make it but could not tell you how
I will keep imagining until I can soar
My fall my rise the birth of hope the death of fear

An unimagined figure waits and holds the door
To a dark hallway leading down to dark-knows-where
(This is the adventure everyone else refused)
He smiles at me a little as I enter there
Because he knows this game is one I have to win

Imagining the unimaginable in
I have seen the unimaginable begin

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 18, 2008, 11:14 pm


You

Matters of imagination matter
The matter of dreams is what matters most
As at the end when certainties shatter
The body gives up life to free the ghost

I will not believe in reality
As some do and say I ought to believe
It may look real to them but not to me
My soul knows even when my eyes deceive

They ask each other how they are and say
No matter how it hurts that they are fine
They question their answers then turn away
Before their lines and leashes intertwine
Screaming inside they chirp have-a-nice-day

Some things are real past our ability
To understand them or to bear their weight
And these are those things which could only be
Only as they are as the points of fate

We go through the motions and do the best
We can though it is not enough we know
Praying we will not be brought to the test
Finding the test brought to us even so

And what about us now at last my friend
Here at the crossroads of the universe?

If not my imagination the end
Of reality for better or worse
Here at the end where certainties shatter
Is as good a time as any is to
Admit the matter of my dreams is you

Matters of imagination matter
You ask me do you matter: yes you do

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 16, 2008, 4:09 am


And Yes: When Broken Too

Conventional society deserves
Its own company: it gets on my nerves

But I avoid it pretty well somehow
With nerves preserved and pickled from the pain
Of being unconventional all day
Some nerve preserved to go against the grain
And then (cross-granular and squared away)
Some pickled nerve reserved to come again

Experience picked and pickled preserves
A sense of perspective and saves the nerves

This back-and-forth dialectic of now
Is the wonder of our wandering walk
The passage and the process of it all
Learning when to listen and when to talk
Learning when to listen especially

But I hate to listen to the cocksure
Like when proselytizers come to call
A convention for which the only cure
Is when the cocksure get knocked down like me
Here where cocksureness never could endure
To be cheek-by-jowl with its destiny

Our hearts will speak someday when they speak to
Answer the questions we ask of ourselves
Nobody knows these questions like we do
And so our hearts answer straight from themselves
When spoken to (and yes: when broken too)

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 14, 2008, 8:28 am


Sparrow

The rose-tips are topped with sucking insects
The buds despair to blossom with them there
Tipping with the weight of infestation
Ripped roses unspool disappointedly
And through the disappointment in the air
A hungry sparrow happens to hop by
As welcome as if by invitation

She gobbles up a few but soon rejects
These bloated bugs for fast food on the fly
She satisfied her curiosity

A sparrow can look for lunch anywhere
She finds the flotsam and the jetsam of
A bite of a burger and flung french fry
Part of a taco and a gummi bear
And some of yesterday's peanuts from me

Yesterday's causes are today's effects
As yesterday's hope becomes today's love
Today the seed sprouts planted yesterday

Those insects though they looked sweet from the sky
Were not what a hungry sparrow expects
Their exoskeletons were extra dry
But hungry sparrows always like to be
As scavengers the last ones to survive

She shrugs then flutters away fleetingly
And I understand because so must I
Still nobody gets out of here alive
So I turn away as I must and sigh
How this sparrow is fortunate that she
Is not to blame as these ripped roses die
She is just as she is supposed to be

A hollow-boned creature whistles goodbye
As much of the sky as I am earthbound
She leaves me by myself to wonder why
Roses like people so seldom seem free

While the hungry sparrows adapt and thrive
Seeming to live their lives effortlessly
We deal with our demons and diseases
As innocents experience has found

Juggling woes like bloated bugs in the air
We mumble through the liturgy of life
And giggle to encounter answered prayer
When it wells up within us suddenly

Then when a blossom or poem pleases
The rose is or I am redeemed to share
Since we know neither husbandman nor wife

I wish that sparrow could have saved that rose
Both were busy and had to bloom today
One was born to survive and always knows
That unlike the rose she can fly away
So she is always ready to surprise

A sparrow bloomed today if grey and small
She flew to find the freedom fate denies
Which I have never tasted anyway
Arising from ripped roses where they fall
To wipe the unbearable from my eyes
As all I am and all I have to say
A sparrow said it best though silently

I feel like I am a sparrow today

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 11, 2008, 7:19 pm


Stranger

Doing my best to quest my destiny
Without asking too many questions of
A force which I could never understand
I am willing to bear the loneliness
Of being the way I am since I see
That the consequence of my onlyness
As a stranger lost in a stranger land
As one unable to assimilate
As such an unwitting contrarian
Such that I stick out like a sore thumb here
As a quite-possibly-dangerous-man
Is that while I flounder with the hand fate
Has dealt me here where the jokers run wild
I run across other strangers to love
Who found me because I was a lost child

I will always be lost and always found
Know who my friends are and where they are too
Know strangers who like to see me around
No strangers to each other (me and you)

How ironic becoming iconic

Especially as an iconoclast
Wearing a tall pointed hat on my head
In perfectly balanced absurdity
Acceptance seems a general tonic
And icons (as we know) are made to last
These portals of improbability
Where opposites can be reconciled once
They are given the opportunity
Where one can be a wizard and a dunce
Who knows to know nothing is everything
That winter releases the death of fall
Wiping the slate for a new question in
The time when planted questions sprout in spring
I never get any answers at all
But I enjoy it when questions begin

If anyone asks I was just asking

Unanswered questions being ironic
Of something I could never understand
A once-a-dunce becoming iconic
As a stranger lost in a stranger land

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 9, 2008, 10:43 pm


Soul

It is the ghost within which haunts the faces
Of certain people in uncertain places
As the outside is affected by the in
So the spirit is revealed beneath the skin
The animus itself the animation
Which distinguishes the living from the dead
And whether dignity or indignation
The soul or whatever one calls it instead
Is there to be easily read on the face
Of the certain within an uncertain place

Let this be our sign of solidarity
A reminder to both of us that we live
That I can read you just as you can read me
Where we so often feel such isolation
Though certainly we are denied certainty
We remain to take what existence might give
In our take-it-or-leave-it situation

Though we bet it all and they say we will lose
Let us dare each other to rise up and choose
To do something about it before we go
Perhaps be remembered for something we make
And since we are certain of uncertainty
If we never try how can we ever know?
Where certainty bends there uncertainty breaks
The human race survives on the empathy
Which I share with you and which you share with me
Life is held together by a few handshakes

And one thing of which I feel certain is this:
Life gives no greater certainty than a kiss
The ghost shared within the soul beneath the skin
Shared certainly (even in uncertainty)

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII









Apr 8, 2008, 11:27 pm


Close Encounter

for Katy Conrad

What is this in the mirror?
Could this shadow really be
The image of the existential me?
More confusing when clearer
My surprised eyes start to see
Not just themselves reversed but otherwise
This is an epiphany

These eyes of a stranger to whom surprise
Would be as alien as is this face
Of alien familiarity
Familiar once yet unfamiliar now
This face not of what is but what could be
This face of otherwise which wears my eyes
Seeming to bear them more confidently

My conjoined twin separated at birth
When it fell to me to fall to this place
To stumble around without knowing how
To live life first from and then toward the earth
Feeling from and reeling toward fromness of
And towardness of this place where time and space
Move in place here as though from and toward love

The motions of the heartbeat and the breath
I assume now as I assume these eyes
Which comprehend even as they consume
Their parallel existence at a glance
Somehow more like orgasm than like death
And unpresumptuous nonetheless presume
To deconstruct this structure known as Lance

From two sides of the mirror
Face two halves of the whole
As near evolves to nearer
I see into my soul

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII








Apr 7, 2008, 2:45 am


Change Your Mind

I have been a busy beaver
An overachiever
And I want and need to believe
Sometime before I leave
There might be meaning to be found
Through me by those around

Where would I go what could I do
Except be here with you?
Life may not be an answered prayer
But here means something there
Or so we have been led to say
So they say anyway

Though an uncertain believer
I hope it might be so
And that someday I know for sure
We will be who we were
If only outlines on the ground
But then we never know

And our not knowing is an ill
For which there is no cure
Since the only way to find out
As soon enough we will
Is death the end which leaves no doubt
But leaves the skull grinning

A doubtless and a primal end
Or final beginning
For those who give life for a friend
Who lay it down then rise
Together through shared open skies
Losing and yet winning

We might as well embrace mortality
The better to taste our time as it flies
We might as well be friends here you and me
Together to separate truth from lies
The beast released is what is left behind
When we let go of ego: change your mind

+Steven Curtis Lance



Copyright MMVIII











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