Visions art of an emptiest past,
They’re dancing within my dreams,
Utterance of nothing but broken word,
All within the quiet of my silent screams,
The slow control of all that was,
Life once held inside, now gone and burnt,
Within this darkness now nothing but my pain,
Only nightmares to show, despair shines brightest,
Endless thoughts, what could have been, forlorn regret,
That is but only just a common day,
My core lost among the shattered pieces,
I pray and pray as memories slowly fade away,
No answer comes, no healing of my soul’s slow death,
I embrace my coming end…

About Grief

Do not allow your heart to be locked away in grief. Everything you have ever lost will most certainly come back around. When least expected, perhaps in times of the most calm silence, you can hear the reassuring whispers of love dancing through the quiet. Standing out on the back porch, enjoying the early morning sun and the first of day’s ration of wonderful coffee, you can hear a lost loved one’s adorations drifting on the gentle morning breeze. That little sparrow landing on the rail brings you comfort in the knowledge that spirit is all around you, and that spirit itself can never end. During times of greatest struggle if you take a moment to refocus, calm and clear your mind, you will feel that loved one’s hand on your shoulder, bringing reassurance, and reinforcing your knowledge that no matter the challenge, you have the strength to meet the challenge. And in truth, it is very fulfilling to remember once more that the one your shared so much with, loved so deeply, can still be a part of your life. Nothing ever ends. Just as we were gifted with so much joy in our existence, so much love has filled our lives, we can know that our spirit can never be quenched, we may well change, but never end. The most wondrous part of our journey stretches out before us, and at some future time we will rejoin our loved ones and travel forward. Much Love, Namaste…


Sadness of Truth

This child, born into today’s diseased and deranged society.
The child innocent, helpless, self-loving.
Living on natural instincts, needs food, shelter, happiness, pleasure.
Reaches to experience truth and the pure, true, genuine realities of life,
Just as any other living creature would want.

But this a creature human.
Born into a diseased and deranged society,
This fiction we know as “society” of humans,
From the instant of conception, subjected to evil, insanity,Child_lost
Deranged unnatural madness and pain.

Society deliberately sets out to destroy this child,
Mind, soul, and body, just as it seeks to destroy every child.
Every child, born perfect, must be broken into pieces,
Moulded into the twisted, irrational, and insane,
A lie-based reflection of the society we allow,
That which rules over us, existing to victimized individuals.

With limitless malice, this the endless cycle,
Genocidal torture and destruction of human life,
Legitimized and validated by the leaders of all,
“Destroy your children, as your parents destroyed you.”
At every turn, derangements await, child ownership, torture, brainwashing,
Societal punishment of its own tortured victims,
War, legalized murder, and hundreds of others,
Each rendered as natural,
A normal, sensible, moral, vital truths, doctrines, and dogma,
But in reality, indescribable derangement on which they’re each based.

Most of us have little or no real tolerance for the truth and holding even,
The deepest of contempt for it within us, and not even realizing it…

George Carlin, who understood this quite well, expounded on the idea like this:

“People are wonderful. I love individuals. I hate groups of people. I hate a group of people with a ‘common purpose’. ‘Cause pretty soon they have little hats. And armbands. And fight songs. And a list of people they’re going to visit at 3am. So, I dislike and despise groups of people, but I love individuals. Every person you look at; you can see the Universe in their eyes, if you’re really looking.”

The Lost One and The Road Back

I am lost, and I have to find my way back
I have journeyed into a darkness of my own making
A darkness that I sorely needed
Needed to escape from another darkness too impenetrable to bear
An ending so heartbreaking and soul rendering that I could not abide
So I ran. I had to run, for pain and loss were too much
Too much for me to allow myself to continue
Yet I had to continue
So I ran

I ran deep inside myself
I pushed away the tears and anguish
Buried the hopelessness and helplessness
Hid the doubts and troubles, the guilt and the anger
Pushed my very soul so far from reach
That no one or nothing would be able to touch it again
Not able to attend the funeral I needed so badly to close my loss
I tried to kill and hide forever the parts of me that make me who I am
I remade myself so I could never hurt like that again

I took all of me and stowed it away
Down in that dark emptiness that I now carried in my soul
Burned there by that brief instance of nightmare, the very end of forever
I put away my ego, my self-respect, and all cares for myself
I allowed no inner joys, no dreams of the future, no future at all
And yet I denied myself the present also
Denied myself even the simple pleasures of the moment
That made up so much of me before
I cast myself out of a world I yet traveled

Turning my focus outward, I made my entire existence to do for others
My reason for being became taking care of those I still had with me
All my energies were now directed outward for all those around me
My time, my thoughts, every breath I took
Every friend in need, every imagined cause to be fought
Anything, and everything, except for myself
And as long as this remained my focus
As long as I kept the burning pain trapped deep inside
I was safe. No fear could touch me. No guilt could trample. Safe

And as the days and years went by, it got easier
The lies I tell myself became believable, became my new reality
Each new problem, whether lessor or dire, tragic or heartbreaking
Became for me the center of my life, all of my life, my existence
For each instance took me that much further from having to look within
Made it that much easier to keep the demons hidden
And, though I knew the demons were there beneath the surface
Crawling and clawing in that festering, and never healing wound
I was safe, for no one could know, and none get close enough to hurt me again

But there was too much of me left
Too much of me that needed to live, to live a real life
To love and laugh, to find those simple pleasures I need so badly
So, a battle enjoyed between my real self, caged so deep
And the fantasy I had created to steel myself against any return
Bad choices taken, driven by the tiny voice I refuse to hear
Mistakes generated by the conflict within resulting in more loss, more pain
Errors in judgement guaranteed to fail
To fail because my fantasy self would ensure their failure

And now I fear, my time runs short
Already so many of those I used for my focus have moved out of reach
And too soon, I will loose the few left to me
I will be alone, alone to deal with that I cannot deal with
That which I cannot face, even after all this time
What then will be the meaning for my continuance
All I base my life on now, will be lost
Where will I find purpose to hold back the darkness
Where will I run from the pain?

I must find a way back…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre November 14th, 2008

Together Yet Apart

It seems to get harder and harder
Since that day you went away
And still the people keep telling me
Everything will be okay

And I know deep inside
That it’s better where you are now
But we’re not together, you’re not here
It seems so damn unfair

Seems like only yesterday
Living together, two as one
Then suddenly my eyes were opened
When I realized gone means forever

It hurts, it aches
This slice from my heart
For all the rest of my life
We’ll ever be apart

Now that you’re gone
I have no one to run to
Am I doing this correctly
Please send me a clue

I’ve lost my understanding
The mystery and meaning of life
I can’t get this right
Fighting ever in strife

You may really be gone
But remain forever in my heart
You and me my love
Together, though apart

And I await the future
Holding hope that I will see
When time does come for my own death
You’ll open the gates for me…..

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre January 13th, 2008

On the Edge

I try to laugh, struggle for the meaning
Beloved trees taunt me dropping their leaves
Their time done, the turn, circle complete
Lost, I sit quietly, bleeding in pain

Death comes so easily for them
With envy I sit watching each fall
My autumn in the past, yet I remain
Their leaves never to stay, never to feel this empty

I sit and wish I were one of them
Tired and weak, falling, floating, letting go
No regrets, simply to no longer stand the winds
Universal understanding that I make room for the new

The essence that was my life melting back into the soil
Final accomplishment in feeding the new lives yet to come
Falling in the silence, long earned peaceful rest
Knowing my small part in the continuance

This the curse of human existence
Nothing simple, complications and duty
I stare at the forest in shame with wrothful heart
Knowing their death far more noble, open self sacrifice
While here I sit in my self-centered depression

Can I manage to peel my mind off the forest floor?
Amidst all these martyred leaves I want desperately to be
Can I but be a part of the life gift, to rest and return?
I reach within, in search for wisdom, for guidance
And with reluctance the answer now clear

I cannot leave with so much yet undone…

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre October 28th, 2008
revised November 28th, 2008

The Last Flowers

With despair I watch, as they slip away one by one,
Their short-lived beauty now fading, their frilly dresses now brown
Some laying face down covered with the morning dew.
Little by little they will disappear and fade from my view

But oh, did they not have their glory, their day in the sun
Still, I hate their demise, cannot bear to lose even one
And when this day is done, this suffering wait over,
I’ll be sorrowful for a while, then an old friend will come
Aster will be dressed in ardent purples and blues,
And with her those friends with colors, burnt orange, rustic gold,
And ruby red, the most pleasant to the eye.

I will not lament, I will not wail,
For the show they put on is breath-taking in renewal
And, though in death they share their last beauty
I will still remember them well when the first snowflake falls…

For you my friend, a small reminder of the glories of life, and the inevitable ends.
The endings are false, but brief pauses as we change to another path.
Be at peace my dear friend…for there are no endings, only changes in state.

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 31, 2005

Turn Back

Turn Back

Oh that I could just turn back the clock
Return to that time so long ago now
For this to be the day once more, when we first met
So many things to say, so many things to do
So much to share…..

To have that truest of friends back
You, who I could always trust and rely on
To have your beautiful face before me once more
Not in the ghost of memory, as now
But in the light of this fine day
To reach out,

Perhaps better if I but forget,

But I can’t…..

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre January 5th, 2008

Why Again

This year, we still fight, on the sands in the east
Dying and killing, on the Baghdad road
And in the mountains of Abdullah Gan, Afghan children still cry
Dust of our armor, dark evil cloud in their world

We wash our feet, in the waters of the Congo
While millions are slaughtered like meat
And preach that only we know, what is right and is true
And if you don’t believe, our armies will teach

We are the barbarians, manslaughter for greed
A disease spreading across the whole globe
Leaving nothing behind, but blanched skulls and bones
Making sure the oil continues to flow

We’ve allowed a new emperor, gave him total control
He bends minds with a religious beacon of fire
And the fire ever burns, as he drags out new fuel
For to this war, there seems to be no end

In the battlefield created, our men grapple and die
Believing not else but what told
They must hold to that belief, no matter how wrong
For there is no other way to survive

And while widows and orphans, utter woeful sad cries
Ravens and kites rejoice at the feast
Pecking at human entrails, gorging on the waste
All the bounty we provide in disgrace

A sad state of affairs, ego driven and brash
To be carried on through futures yet foreseen
They hang trophies for display, crossed branches of dead trees
So our men will have something for to fight

And the dead and the dying, a smear in the desert
Grand generals accomplishing not
And continue they will, escalation and storm
Fighting a war that is all based on naught

Oh, nefarious war! Would that I could cast you aside
And drape the world in peace once more……

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 27th, 2007

Long Struggle

Hope, do I dare
Need someone to hold to
Again the pain rolls and tears
This never-ending struggle to live

To survive, got to ride it
Wave after wave of this agony
As it tries to beat me down
Take what little strength I contain
Take over what life I have left

Wave after wave, got to ride it again
Survive it and keep struggling on
And though misery is my norm
I must hold to form
Have to hide it, I can’t let you see

So wearing my mask
Smile painted on my face
I move as though nothing is wrong
But I see in your eyes, despite my best effort
The truth is that somehow you know

Another day is starting……..

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre January 1st, 2008