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The day has arrived when the why is recognized.

The futile are out of time, we're leaving it all behind.

Absent pieces that amplify.

Excess ceases, addition by...subtraction.

As useful as a third shoe, or a picture obstructing the view.

If abundance proves fruitless then progress is to dispossess.

Maintaining equilibrium is essential to our being.

Dropping weight that's anchored us in place, counterbalancing burdens we face.

Addition by subtraction. Addition by taking away.

Addition by subtraction. Addition by clearing away.

Addition by subtraction. Addition by taking away.

Addition by subtraction. Addition by clearing the way.

THEY are we

We’ve lost track of who we are, and from where we came.

Each time we judge and blame we’re causing others pain.

We’re short-sighted, taking so instinctively - seldom giving or expressing empathy.

We’re all the same consciousness, choosing our own divisiveness.

Focusing on misconceptions around us infects our compassion with indifference.

And if we were to view ourselves from afar we’d see that we are just as different as they are.

We’re all the same consciousness, choosing our own divisiveness.

When we point the finger we forget or have yet to see, they are we!

Altruism is a hard sell while we segregate ourselves.

the new dream

I crossed into the Golden State, like those before me I took the bait.

I huddled up along the stream, panning for my piece of the dream.

The masses came with the same plan and hope that pushed out native clans.

The lure of Eden brought us here, then we overran this promised land.

The gold rush still rages, disguised by these changes.

The New Dream is it fleeting, or is history repeating?

I crossed over the Golden Gate in search of a storied fate.

What I've earned would set me free anywhere but here ironically.

Was I mislead in this old frontier? Repeating mistakes of yesteryear?

The prospect of a boon looked clear from afar but is far from here. 

Millions migrate to the Bay and roll the dice.

Each and all pay the toll.

The churn of the hopeful on the inside looking in.

A paradoxical way of life.

The gold rush still rages, disguised by these changes.

The New Dream isn't fleeting, history is repeating.

sandstorm

The search continues as it had yesterday.

Molding meaning out of sand to watch it blow away.

Its not for lack of desire that we don't find our way.

Yearning for clarity while dowsing for answers in a sandstorm.

Shifting sands distract the innate.

Holding truth in hand to feel it disintegrate. 

Walking this maze, searching this haze.

We just can't get out of our own way. 

The search continues as it had yesterday.

Molding meaning to watch it blow away. 

Its not for lack of desire that we don't find our way.

Yearning for clarity while dowsing for answers in a sandstorm.

fire in disguise

Like an arcing wire next to an incendiary.

A familiar outcome enveloped in mystery.

Engulfing the minds harmony...flames of anxiety.

Is this the residue of a dormant primal fear?

Or the inability to cope when a sense of place is unclear?

Burdened by crippling unease...ashes of anxiety

Fire in disguise...

An imbalance stirs inside that pulls you away.

I'll remain your beacon of hope to help you find your way.

Allow a peaceful tone to undo your knotted ties.

And extinguish this fire...fire in disguise.

ripple

The sequence of moments that composes life.

Can pass us by or guide us through a door that leads inside.

Through a hall of mirrors, wherein we might find,

What we couldn't see with our fettered eyes.

Presence in this moment reveals solace.

Awareness in this moment shows the tree through the forest.

A Ripple in perception, feeling pertinence in today.

Focused here, on the now, allowing all else to fall away.

Moments are no possessions, but a stream that flows in time.

Ephemeral impressions washed away by the tide. 

Clarity in the present mitigates the past.

Which is but a memory the mind obscures en masse.

Forego expectations and find freedom in.

Embracing what is and allowing what becomes.

pill for the pill

Not long ago or far away substances were dealings of those who were healing.

The body as a whole, the spirit and the soul.

Symptomatic of our time, symptomatic by design.

Our remedies don't heal.

They're just pills treating prescriptions, and when there's nothing left to feel.

They're pills feeding addictions, another pill - for the pill.

A root or a leaf, an herb or belief that grows naturally and is used to cure the weary.

Couldn't be abused, bought or sold, until somehow it was owned. 

Pharmaceuticals get doled out like candy - instead of cures, we mask affliction.

Prescribing addiction and dependency, over medicating to the detriment of the ill.

Such a lofty price we pay for pseudo-cures of the modern day.

Is it too late to change our ways before we're led further astray?

only liars

Living life in routine dissuasion, mixed signals and shallow persuasions.

Those claiming to know the path ahead show us how they've been misled.

Only liars know what we'll see.

Only liars know what will be.

The motive of normative conditions serves only to dull intuitions.

The spread of deception regulates the mass-consignment of a scripted fate.

What in the world is more concerning than certainty of a predetermined self-fulfilling destiny?

prize of nothingness

[Instrumental]

how on earth

Will these have been the good ole days before we succumbed to our mindless ways?

Will we long for how good we had it and lament our self-destructive habits?

Might this all just be hyperbole? Seems doubtful to me.

There is no waking the ones who pretend to be asleep.

All signs ignored will be consequences to reap.

The human thirst to posses and to divide - to separate the universe into yours and mine.

Puts the human first then the balance is reversed until there's nothing left to quench the thirst.

Its not what we do but how we do it.

Its in our choice and how we choose it.

Its not what we do but how we do it.

Its through our lens and how we view it.

We are capable of all that is imagined, and culpable for all the unimaginable.

How On Earth is there a source in us to decimate a place on earth for us?

How On Earth is there a place in us to defile the earth, the source of us?

Forgive this species of whom I am a part.

We've ravaged your surface as if we have no heart.

pushing the stone

Nurturing the seeds that are sown into an arid soil.

Visions growing of a mirage formed by ambitions.

Guided by a constant pulse pushing through resistance.

An impression so compelling it leads to who we are.

Seeking to be heard, listening for more than echoes in return.

Listening for more than echoes...in return.

Driven by an unrelenting will - I'm still pushing the stone uphill.

Hardwired to pursue what's unfulfilled - I'm still pushing the stone uphill.

Of all the youthful wishes cast in the well,

This is the one that conventions couldn't quell.

Not bending to conformity, while on the path that winds through me.

Somewhere along the way, the focus shifted.

From what we all sought this to become, to uncovering what it already is.

Intuition cut the path behind me.

I visualized this all before it came to be.

Intuition guides that path before me.

I visualize this all in 3...2...1.