glass houses are stoned

we ask for peace
and then have to decide
the meaning of peace

what is the meaning of a bad day?
a bad year
a bad century
peace divided by time =
20,000 ways to be sorry
in the aftermath

tend your own garden
hoe your own row
how is anger inspired?
sign said “BITCHCRAFT:
making others angry
by telling them the truth.”

what kind of truth is in peace
what is this great search or destination
this abject crucifixion
upon civilization
a song was promised
and so steps are steps
bridging the gaps
between here and never there…

***

birds greet the day
and sorrow hopes to see the sun
but if you can’t get there walking,
then you run

and if running wears you down
then you find the wings to fly
a life is only bitter
from cold depths between your eyes

find me now
where human feet touched older roads
where they knew the better path
to turn around and dos-see-dough

like the pages of a book
like the stardust in the sea
did you ever find a rock
that wasn’t free?

if running wears you down
then you settle on the shore
for only waves will understand
no more….
no more….

find me now
and i’ll parry warm delights
for tender strengths you hate in me
i’ll offer up to kill the night

open arms for open days
open lives in open plays
… did you think that less left more between the lines?
or did they wonder where to find a truth
when all that’s known is lies?

weary man will greet the day
endurance always sees the sun
but when you can’t get there walking,
then you run

from the bullet in your brain
where hate decides that life is pain
did you see the hole where hope once made its home?
i gave the best from me
with words in paths and minds that be

the day’s not over
thought gave us her all
find wings that let you fly
and i’ll run hard to touch the sky
for in the end
when spite lets sorrow eat your brain
i will laugh with those before me
who marked time as timed insane …

find me now
and i’ll tell you where I’ve been
the roads are older paths
where grandma walked on needles
pins
do you see the birds?
they’re singing
notes practiced wearing thin …

and if you can’t get here walking
how does fear make armies run?
in woven spirits held together
light will always turn the sun

and if we can’t get there running
then we’ll bless the wings that fly
quiet prayers for every hope that passes by…

find them now
while human feet touched older roads
then countless pain knew better paths
and countless joy knew dos-see-doughs

for bringing edges of tomorrow
turn around to see you see
how wonder fades to treasured mournings
where my heart has always been

like the pages of a book
like the stardust in the sea
did you ever find a rock
that wasn’t free?

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