I’ve run out of things to say
Almost.
It’s time to be on my way
Almost.
Just one last word about what we’ve lost.
There is so much love around
And still war and violence abound.
There are so many higher emotions in man
And still death and famine cry out in the land.
Concentrate now on the beauty of life
And eliminate the strife.
That’s all I have to say
Almost.
It would be so easy to change our ways
Almost.
We just have to be willing to pay the cost.
© 2012 Wasted Space Publishing
God sees out,
our future predestined.
But it is a crooked path,
changed by freewill.
For in heaven the view
is so much more than mere mortals see.
Destiny, interwoven
with the choices of men.
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
Read old books.
They take us to places
We can’t go any more.
They transport us through time
To worlds we don’t remember.
Read old books.
They reveal the beginnings of ideas
We take for granted.
They unfold again for us the ideas
We’ve forgotten to believe in.
We live in a world of the new.
We believe in a world that changes.
But it is a trick of time.
The world is still the same.
Men are still the same.
And what we believe in now
Are only the accessories.
So, read old books.
Make sure your children see you.
And perhaps when they grow old
They, too, will
Read old books.
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
I’m lost in a mass of conflicting images.
Springtime in winter.
The miracle of birth on fifty widescreen inches.
I’m confused by the abundance of information.
So many instant winners.
The start of another warped tradition.
I’m drowning in a sea of irrelevance.
Money for sinners.
The need for the proper political stance.
I watch to learn,
But I don’t learn what I need to know.
I watch for entertainment,
But I have to laugh more at myself than the show.
I watch as we lose control
Intelligence low.
I can’t break away from the onslaught of images.
I can’t make sense of the useless information.
Irrelevance has won,
Just show it where the stage is.
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
What did you learn today?
Anything important?
Anything you’ll remember?
Then it wasn’t worth it.
Was it?
What did you do today?
Anything earth shattering?
Anything anybody else will recall?
Then it wasn’t worth it.
Was it?
Remember
What you learn and do may not seem too important,
But if you use it when the time comes for important things
Then it was worth it.
Wasn’t it?
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
Think about me when you wake up in the morning.
Think about me on your way to work.
Think about me when I’m right there with you,
Just like I think about you.
Think about me when your day is over.
Think about me when you’re ready for bed.
Think about me in your dreams,
Just like I think about you.
Maybe by the way I act sometimes,
you can’t tell how much I think about you.
Maybe I hide behind the way I act sometimes,
Because I never know if you’re thinking about me, too.
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
Sadness walks a tightrope –
Less than the depths of sorrow,
Greater than the pangs of conscience.
Sadness falls as tears –
Filling the reservoir of pain,
Releasing the overflow of emotion.
Sadness calls.
Sadness overwhelms.
Sadness dies
And gives way to haunting memories.
Sadness lies down with strangers –
It fills the lungs of communities,
In it’s breath is a whisper of redemption.
Sadness silently laments.
Sadness screams for salvation.
Sadness haunts
The integrity of fading memories.
© 2011 Wasted Space Publishing
A restlessness that won’t go away.
A yearning that gnaws on the inside,
Never letting go of its penetrating grip.
Would a different set of circumstances
Make for so much better of a life?
Would a different set of choices
Help alleviate this inner strife?
Different circumstances
Only offer the chance to change my life.
Different choices
Only provide the chance to kill this inner strife.
But I must change the circumstances.
I must make the choices.
It’s my life.
In the balance is my fate.
And given new choices,
Would I be willing to take the chances?
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
I don’t know anyone who ever tells the truth.
There’s always something concealed beneath the surface.
Even honest men still tell lies.
Deceit enters everybody’s life.
It’s the duplicity of man that hides the higher order.
It’s the con man in every soul that thwarts a perfect world.
I don’t think it’s so hard to tell the truth until I try.
There’s always something you can tell one but not the other guy.
Still, even deceitful men try to tell the truth in part.
We all seem to know the truth is a good place to start.
But it’s the duplicity of man that conceals the higher being.
It’s the swindler in every soul that craves nothing but the winning.
So I live in the guise of straightforwardness,
And I hide behind the masque of truthfulness.
Because honesty is honored by all and achieved by none,
And we try to make our comrades believe we’re the one.
But the duplicity of man can not be overcome.
It can’t even be controlled.
It’s part of a world tainted by sin.
And so we spin
Into oblivion
Lost.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing
Restless is my mind,
and weary, too.
Eaten up by the things of this world.
But peaceful is the heart of God,
a refuge from the eternal storm
that is the unsatisfied soul of man.
So look not to man for knowledge.
Trust instead an offer of everlasting life.
Seek not the wisdom of men.
Obey instead the will of only one.
Tranquil then will my mind be.
Filled with the glory of the world to come.
© 2010 Wasted Space Publishing