Weights

Give me the weights

The hate

The jealousy

The criticism

And the doubt

And I’ll get to work

Using these heavy hitters

As training tools

So keep it coming

Give me another round

And I’ll keep on pumping

Weights

Tomorrow I Will.

Yesterday

I said I would

Tomorrow

And now Today

I say I wish I still had

Yesterday.

What Crop do I Grow?

Every day a farmer can only use a certain amount of water. They may choose to use this water on whatever crop they like. They might use all their water on one crop, at the expense of several others. Or the farmer may spread the water evenly between the crops, however none of these crops will ever reach their full potential. They will only just get by. Now ask yourself, if you were this farmer, where would you use the water? On your relationships with friends and family? On your personal skill set? On love? Our energy is finite. So be careful where you place your energy. And remember, crops may die, but they can be re-sewn. They’ll just take a bit longer to flourish.

I understand.

I was hearing it wrong.

Now I finally

understand

The words

of this song.

Rhythm and beat

I rise to my feet

And dance

Upon the floors

I once

Crawled upon.

A Storm is Coming.

A storm is coming.
Do you hear it?
Do you feel it?
That tremor beneath your feet
and the grumble of the beast.
Hiding in the dark.
Breathing fast
it descends upon us at last
salivating.
Mouth open wide
there is nowhere to hide.
Engulfing the weak
and chilling the brave
it moves like a wave.
Across the feast.
But eating so fast could never quite last.
So with one last belch and slurp of the tongue
the beast is done.
Shrinking and creeping
like a mouse in a silent house.
Waiting to grow
and descend upon the land once again.

 

storm1

 

Hidden & Bitten

The house was once bright
It’s rooms
With its walls and floors
Were flooded with light.
The doors were unlocked
The windows had a view
Everything was so new

If only I knew
The things I could do
In a house
So light
So bright
And so new.

A year crept by
Or maybe it was five
The house doesn’t feel so alive
Anymore.
Sometimes I lock the door
And lose the key
And sometimes I see shadows crawl
On my bedroom wall
These days I struggle to see
The view
And the trees
Which slowly die
In front of me
For the windows have grown tired
Their eyelids half closed
Slowly falling deep
In sleep

If only I saw
The world a little more
If only I saw
Something more
Than empty halls
And dusty floors.

I don’t want to stay in this house
Anymore
Stay away
I pray to those who come too near
This house is a place to fear
So please don’t come too close
To this haunted house

I hear moaning through these walls
Words of discontent
Which echo around
Inside my head

I have felt the Dracula’s bite
Felt the hope
Drain away from my body
Throughout the night

I see ghosts
Wandering these halls
Distasteful reminders of regret
Dead but yet
So alive
They survive
So I can never
Forget.

These nights I sleep with the covers over my head
Because I know the dead
Are coming from under my bed.
They want to drive me insane
To gnaw and nibble and dribble
Upon my brain.

Am I a fool
To run from the ghoul
Who licks its lips
Like a cat
About to attack
The helpless mouse inside this house?
It knows this place
And it quickens its pace
With every drop of doubt
I sweat.

When did I become the prey
Within my own home?
Will I ever find a place to lay
A place to pray
In peace?
Piece by piece
I will pull down these walls
Thrust open these doors
And leave.

This house has been my home
For too long
I was wrong when I said
If only I knew
The things I could do
In a house
So light
So bright
And so new.

A house is nothing but a point on a map
A quick place to nap
Before we wake and make
Another large leap deep
Into discomfort

A house does not grow.
And it does not throw
Opportunity in your direction.
So don’t be slow.
To let go.

Don’t be slow to throw
Yourself outside.
Go.
The doors are open wide.