New Song on Podcast

Hey Guys,

Thats right I am posting a song on this blog. Please be nice and listen/download from my little growing podcast.

Just Click on "New Song on Podcast" to listen

Thanks

Scott

Alas! Old man, you are but a caveman. Shivering cold in a misunderstanding. Fleeting footsteps and a blank piece of paper. Where is the answer? You could watch your vanity. But you ignore the opinions. Eat well! Swallow your pride. The shell of your resolve is transparent. Living or dead you exist as nothing. What a waste of cosmic energy.

Meaning in Solitude

In the infancy of a blessing,
Water washes over your eyes
As you creep towards epiphany
Breath is held until it passes
As the window opens
A breeze shoots through your clothes
Cascading a symphony of emotion

Waiting for a word to speak,
For an anecdote to change the present
Realizing you are alive
As you take a breath, and
Feel the sunshine on your face
Feeling the regret of the past
Usurping your ability to hope

A shy moment lapses your judgment
And the fear of tomorrow is availed
The engine of your car starts
And the music begins to play
Drowning out the thoughts of failure
And a full collapse of power is here
Waiting for a word of support

If anyone could listen
Could the voices and conscious erase
And with a hint of resentment
You accept your passions
Not a single minded opinion
Not a touch of a lovers tips
And in the dark you can rationalize

Leading yourself down a path
A trek you never thought to take
Life is a reaction to your whim
Not a whim of your reaction
Only actions can open the box
A life of acceptance and misery
As misery accepts your sacrifice

Give in! Screams the echoes
You are not built for this
Your transgressions impact your steps
And the filth impedes your gait
Be what you want! You scream
But the epiphany and hope fades
Like the breeze through a window.

Dismay

Dismay was her name. And she had been the most popular person in the world from the beginning. Every day when Dismay rose, the world would know her name. Parents would pray for her to never show up their children’s lives. Governments would rise and fall at her command. Empires and dynasties fell at her whim. Thousands would die by her mighty stroke every dawn and every dusk.
During her life, there were times when her popularity grew too much for the world to stand. When millions died, or when the beloved fell, the world would cry out for her to never show her face. But at times of peace, leaders would call out for her as a guiding light towards the future. They would set her on a pedestal and drive her into the hearts of those they wished to suffer. Even when the tragedies were too much for Dismay, the world would scratch and claw for her to show the enemies her wrath.
When an individual was feeling resentment or envy towards a foe, Dismay would be there. Or when a killer was set on trial for his crimes, Dismay was there. And even when a small child was walking home from school alone, Dismay would show her ugly face and ruin the lives of many. Not a single day passed that Dismay was not hard at work, and she grew tired.
One day upon waking, Dismay decided that she would not longer do her job. Even her vanity could not overcome the sickness that she felt from her existence. And on that day Dismay turned over a new leaf.
The world was then a peaceful place, where countries did not quarrel over small acts. And people let the world be, as it should. Hands were grasped together in harmony and the earth turned to a new tune.
Meanwhile, Dismay was hard at work in order to change what she had done. She would travel from place to place, saving lives and ending wars. Her handy work had been so invasive throughout the world that it took decades to clean up the mess she had made. And when she was done, she looked out across the world and heaved a sigh of relief. No longer would she be popular, and no longer would the world curse her name.
But dismay was confused, and Dismay was wrong in her assumption. Even as the world grew more peaceful, did her name become even more popular. She could not be two people, she thought. Death and misfortune were still occurring if not on a grand scale. The people now expected peace, and even a small dose of Dismay drove the people into frenzy. Now, more than ever, did people scream the name of Dismay; wondering why she still existed and why she still tortured their lives.
With this, Dismay grew angry and vengeful towards the people she tried to help. With a swift hand and even quicker action she responded in all aspects of life. Dismay crowded the world with her black hair, and surrounded life with her fury. All she ever wanted was to be accepted, to be understood. Why could the world not see that she will always exist and that even efforts to minimize her destruction were futile? But the people would not listen.
Not even the greatest minds in the world could rationalize the need for Dismay. And with each day her hatred of their ignorance grew stronger. Finally one day Dismay decided they all needed see her fury. Not a single person in the world was open enough to accept that she exists. They would pray and plead with each other for Dismay to disappear. So Dismay made them all disappear.
Acting on a leader’s order, Dismay made sure that not a single person was left to complain. And with that, the world was gone.
As dismay now sat looking over the world with a smile, she saw a single man clinging to life. She expected to hear his cursing her existence and was poised to stop his speech. But the man saw Dismay and looked her in the eyes. With his last gasping breath he whispered to her. “Even though the world is filled with Dismay, there is always tomorrow to look forward too.” And with that the man died.
Dismay now sat alone realizing that there was no tomorrow, and that without the people she could not exist; And that without her, people could not look forward to tomorrow.

And with that Dismay vanished quietly into nothing. The world no longer had a tomorrow to look forward too, with or without her.

Dad and love

Calamity Jane and Hurricane Hank (Written in 5-7-5 Haiku)

Born into despair

A life without luck or mirth

An unlucky soul

Calamity Jane

Mother left when she was three

Abusive father

Each day a struggle

With no people to call friends

Crying in her bed

On her tenth birthday

Locked in a closet alone

Not a single gift

And six years later

She lost her keys to the car

No places to go

Or lover to see

Only a leg in a cast

From falling down stairs

At twenty one years

She was hit by a trucker

And left in the streets

Then there came a man

All splattered with blood and muck

Trip to the ER

He was on his way

They knew them both by their names

Jane and Hank you see

Realized the call

When they both fell unconscious

Staring at the clock

Woke up in a daze

One bed from one another

Sitting and staring

Into their blue eyes

Wondering why it was so

Why they were in love

The truth was the worst

A life of calamity

They were bound to live

Rained on their wedding

On their anniversary

Dogs ate all the food

And on the drive home

A flat tire in the rain

Could not stop their love

At sixty years old

On a flight from Mexico

They died in a crash

Not a soul noticed

When both their flights didn’t land

In los angeles

Hank loved calamity Jane

Even though she’s cursed

He still worshiped her footsteps

As they stumbled past

Didn’t mind the rain

As it ruined their wedding

Didn’t mind the dogs

As they ate all of their food

Not a care you see

His life was a wreck

Before he met his dear Jane

The love of his life

Meaningless and droll

Quietly writing his name

In a black notebook

Just wondering when

Something would come in his life

And change his fortune

Acne on his face

During his seniors year shot

Ridicule came

Mother who was dead

Father who was a drinker

Stinking of whiskey

Beating his brother

Crying out for some guidance

But nothing did come

Crying in sadness

Listening to the anguish

Of a poor sibling

Born alone a cold

Crying for someone to hold

Just someone to love

A life misfortune

That had no chance from the start

A hurricane Hank

Smoking at Dawn

If the wind smells of the past,
Its because were looking for the scent
Breaking down the walls,
of the things we choose to forget
Waking and taking your time,
to retire again and beg the question
Was it you that I hear?

If the wind smells wrath,
and of future content
Its because were waiting,
waiting for something different
Or maybe not different,
just a change from the past
a little tug from existence

The smoke fills the lungs,
like hope fills the heart
In the morning it comes,
the buzz of the drag,
or the desire for a change
both alter our senses
and make the day seem okay

Smoking at dawn we must,
act on our urges
The flame is small,
like the hope of the day
but the fire still burns
and the ash floats,
like dreams of tomorrow.