To Carry On

This new day
I awoke and I knew
You were really gone
Drab new day, no new way,
Eyes blinded to see the dawn.
You gone your own way, I left to go mine
How do I now carry on?

The clear sky above, stars filling the night
Will I ever have cried enough?
How will the sun ever shine again?
This empty darkness hast come into my world
I need rejoice, what other choice?
I must carry on

Fables and visions of loves now long gone
Memories of us together, singing our songs of love
All bear witness to the quickness of the end
These petty differences that drove us apart
How did we allow so little to become so much
I now sing not but the blues, dues we paid lost to the past
Tell me how do I carry on

Where are you gone now my love?
Where gone our happiness, our tomorrows?
Do you too think of the bliss we could have had?
Do you too live now with the sorrow of what we lost?
Questions of a thousand dreams, plans of tomorrow
What do you now see?
Lover, can you not walk again with me?

Again on my own, empty heart yearning once more
I would chase you down, yet what was it made you run?
I try my best just to get around, move on with my life
Still the questions of a thousand dreams
What do you now see?
Lover, can you not walk again with me?
Can you not walk again with me?…

And what’s this, we are together again.

Once more sharing a common path

Once more filled with the love of soul

Once more looking a a future bright with promise

Once more we will carry on…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre August 9, 2009

Old wisdom

Night still and quiet, tensed calm before the storm
Moon cast shadows dancing across the plains
A soft amber glow, heralding the coming new day
Desolate baleful calls drifting echo on the wind
I stand silent and listen in deepest awe

Majestic Wolf, poised upon the high peek
Scanning ground, ever alert, pack drifting all around
Head back, voicing song, an old cry for the elders
Howled spirit songs, piercing the edged night
And now the pack joins in

Sweetest harmony, a sacred blend
Calls reaching up to the heavens
The star lit sky alums their blissful smiles
These, the ancestor’s affectionate eyes
The pack closes

Wise beyond words, seen in his soulful eyes
Perception liken the world of old
They’d soon to retire, back to the den and safety
But first they must finish, this ritual of love
And thank mystery for the success of the hunt

The tribes, the packs, people of all clans
Had once lived remarkably different
For the world was at peace, as created and made
Meant for all life to share
And as daylight grows closer, they break from the song
Ease away toward their homes, journey done
And a thought comes to my mind, as I watched them depart
Would my people ever to learn

Could they make time, to stand on this hill
To listen and learn what is needed
Would they ever hear, or even imagine
The quiet wise pleas of the Mother

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 2nd, 2007

Let Go the Silence

I walk the darkness once more,
Familiar old friend, come to talk at my side
This nightmare vision’s softly roaring call
Leaving seed of doubt while I sleep
Visions planted in my brain by corruption vile
Battles waged with the silence of the one within
Battle eternal from without and within

These restless dreams I seem walk alone
Narrow streets of concrete and trash
‘Neath the dim wane light of dirty lamps dark
I turn my collar up to the cold damp gutter
Shield my eyes from the neon lights glow
That convoluted calling of the wall street elite
From those untouched by the silence of truth

I look around and see the millions in huddled mass
Shaking in fear, blind though see, believing the lies as truth
Talking without speaking, hearing without listening
Where gone the humanity, the morality, the care
I write songs that I can never share without fear
For no one dare read, no one dare believe
This too disturbing, the sound of silence

I would have you know just what it is you do
This silent allowance grows liken a cancer in our world
I beg you hear my words that I might enlighten
Take my hand that I might help you reach out
But I fear my words too late, too quiet, too harsh
Ever echoing in the vast depths of power and control
In the dark wells of the silent masses

I look out and see all the people bowing in prayer
Enthralled to the false neon gods of so many names
And the few that dare send a drafted word of warning
Ever lost to the media blasts, lies in the name of entertainment
Centuries of prophets used only as excuse for murder foul
These new age priests residing in government halls
Do I dare even whisper or the hold yet  to the silence

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 8th, 2009

Warriors Lament

The stillness somehow deepens around me
Quiet movement, stealthy dark shadows shifting
Dim new day light just beginning to dapple the green
Sucking footsteps across the loam dank muddy ground
They come…

Heart thumping, sweat runs, eyes sweep the twilight
Alert near panic, I hear the clinking of their weapons
Quiet voices, language wrong, somehow I must know
Pull further down, deeper yet, down in my water filled hole
They come…

I hear their breath, smell their sweat, can almost reach and touch
My mind recoils, must leave this dream, this nightmare in the bush
Starting soon, I know the drill, my personal place in hell
I ready my tools, prepare once more, my heart bent to the kill
Fear, sadness…

How came I here, this forlorn place, full of danger, anger and fear
My soul misplaced, all I hold dear, my peace, my life, my love
All that I was, ever have been, seems ere lost in this great disgrace
These men are deemed my enemies, but I know not the look of their face
Brothers lost…

Will it ever end, can we ever go back
Back to the world as I remember it was
Can I forget this dream, leave it far behind
Will I ever return to my home
Tears, pain, loss…

I make this vow, unto myself, if ever I leave this place
To put aside the nightmare dreams, to build upon this attain
I will teach my children the ways of love, respect and happiness
But as it starts and I fight to survive, the truth burns in my veins
I will remember, I cannot but, for this nightmare never ends…


Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 30th, 2004

Heed the Call

Born and bred to wave the flag,
Red, white and blue meaning more than God.
Just a band playing and a call from the chief,
And they’re ready for another rich man’s war,

You know the folks born silver spoon in hand,
Do you think they help themselves at all.
And who’s door does the taxman come to,
Not theirs to be sure, not theirs,

Folks blinded by star spangled eyes,
Answer freely when they call you down for war,
One day can’t you ask them if you dare
Just how much more can we give?
And they will just answer More! More! More!
Well not me my friends, not me.

I’m done with dancing to their needs and their greed
And if you’ll join me we might make a change.

You see there is no war if no one heeds the call…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 3rd, 2009