Closed Borders

The highway of dreams disappeared over night

new raised borders kept us from driving on

No rock or blues on the radio, not even soul

the pursuit of a youthful journey was gone

The waiting until we were old enough to go

was bearable because of our adventures dream

We would concur the world by driving the roads

as far as our wheels would take us as a team

The highway of dreams disappeared over night

new raised borders kept us from driving on

No rock or blues on the radio, not even soul

the pursuit of a youthful journey was gone

But as we grew up the world changed a lot

horizons closed-up by religion and greed

The only road we could drive on without fear

was a roundabout so we couldn’t get up to speed

The highway of dreams disappeared over night

new raised borders kept us from driving on

No rock or blues on the radio, not even soul

the pursuit of a youthful journey was gone

Daring junctions were taken by just a few of us

the team turned out to be a gathering of the scared

As lonely souls we kept moving in circle’s

afraid of the unknown, completely unprepared

The highway of dreams disappeared over night

new raised borders kept us from driving on

No rock or blues on the radio, not even soul

the pursuit of a youthful journey was gone

School turned out to be a total waist of time

a senseless drivers license so we wouldn’t cross the lines

Educated to shift, break, stop and drive backwards

to be an adult, responsibly and follow the signs

The highway of dreams disappeared over night

new raised borders kept us from driving on

No rock or blues on the radio, not even soul

the pursuit of a youthful journey was gone

It's not me

I’m not a pessimist, I just don’t see the light

I’m not depressed, I just ran out of pleasure

I’m not side tracked, there’s just no horizon in sight

I’m not poor, I just didn’t find that promised treasure.

I’m not the one, not the one they say I should be

I’m not hiding, just not that extravagant and colourful

I’m not silent, I’m not loud, although I mostly disagree

I’m not the one that’s being blind-sided and disrespectful

I’m not scared, not at all

I’m not angry, by no means

I’m not on a high horse, for sure I’d fall

I’m not down, only confused it seems.

Sky Orange

So you thought blue sky’s were a bad sight

with clear views on the land and crops

sun-glass brightness and a moon at midnight

blooming life when the rain wet’s the rooftops

So you thought black clouds were depressing

with thunder, lightning and shivering storms

raincoats, boots, because you’re just guessing

about the intentions of the men in uniforms

So you thought green fields were a certainty

the toxic air you breath just a imaginable scam

the scarce water wouldn’t make you thirsty

the rising of the sea just a tv program

So you thought orange would be the colour

being egoistic and rude will get you by

convinced about the religion of the Dollar

let me tell you again, again, it’s all a lie

I know my friends about the orange sky

the devastating greed of wind and fire

the flames that burn down all you love

by than blue or black sky’s is all you desire

Day of All Saints

I can feel depressive colums coming up
Early darkness scarying away the brightness
I can feel the need for coffee and candlelight
Sweet dreams of summer replaced by nothingness

I can feel the drowning of positive views
Rats and mise nestling in the attic for the obvious
I can feel the energie leaving thru fingertips
Black thoughts before reality, it seems ridiculous

I can feel that yearly beginning of the winter war
Realizing the foolishness of my sadness
I can feel the evil in flames of burning wood
wandering around in a surreal wilderness

I can feel the need for writing it all down
A day of all Saints, without any holiness
I can feel that force to close the curtains
Back in that cocon, maybe it’s just selfishness

I can feel the weakness of a worried mind
Nervous about the manipulated consciousness
I can feel the support and she’s very kind
Just can’t seem to handle all the tenderness

The Deep Waters

Silently on the banks of the Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

Water filled with tears of joy
rolled of an emotional bride's cheeks.
She's saying yes to a married life
dreams of sex while the priest still speaks.

The waves reflect the sound
of far gone music, dans and laughter
For their love and their compassion
suffered a steep decline thereafter.

Silently on the banks of the Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

Hilltops became small islands
in a human constructed lake.
The river gave a sailors funeral
to the village life that was at stake.

Down in the darkness of the valley
some pins still on a clothesline.
An ox plow buried under algae
the little roadside chapel became a shrine.

Silently on the banks of the  Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

All memories are flushed to the sea
scattered by a high fall at the dam
for now there's just a quiet surface
hiding a tragic historic scam.

Where roads stop at the waterfront
and boats are launched to float
an old woman is imagining herself
the times when she didn't have a vote.

Silently on the banks of the  Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

I am, deal with it.

I am the childless son
of an only son who I never really got to know
because at the age of ten, I became the last.

What I wanted yesterday is forgotten.
What I want today is irrelevant.
Tomorrow I want something else anyway.

I am a free man
next to a righteous women who I really know
because from that first moment we became one.

Gratefully living in the shining of her being.
Thinking behind the blinding curtains of my brain.
Surrounded by chaos in the darkness of my worried mind.

I am the prisoner
of my own pretended fear
for all undeserved bright moments and good feelings.

A stranger among strangers, a friend among friends.
The inspirator among young ones, a dreamer among the responsible old.
A good listener among the hurt, the sarcastic one among those complaining.

I fit in with the non fittable ones, trying to fix the unfixable.
Turning with the windmills in my mind, fighting the battle with the future.
Aware of unseen dimensions, denying rational but unfair boundaries.

I am a part of all, a piece of the broken,
taken apart and being reassembled, lost hope and found it back.
A nightmare survivor.
A daydream believer.
I am responsible for all.
I am not responsible for all.
I am, deal with it.

Thickened skin

And she got scared
affraid to show her scarfs
And she got worried
reluctant to express her grieve
And she got angry
frustrated about the disbelieve

And she gave up
trying to be a hero
And she got silent
swallowing her pride
And she found shelter
a smiling face to hide

And she lived on
thickening her skin
And she kept moving
walking along the edge
And she tried forgetting
her heart divided with a wedge

And she just avoided them
all these painfull encounters
And she thought she had left
the depresive days behind

But she just didn't make it
escaping from a troubled mind

I was here..

I don't think that much
I just feel the irony in being here
I don't deduct a lot of grieve
I just add the hours of light to being me.

I don't create my surroundings
I just except the illusive dimensions that are
I don't beg for love and compassion
I just offer my heart-unlocking key.

I don't shout so loud
I just whisper convinced I'm not noticed anyway
I don't watch that far ahead
I just see my footsteps fading away in history.

Left with the truth..

I left some footprints in my home town,
some gravity on our old school's wall.
I left some pocketknife cutting marks
at the old tree in front of city-hall.

I Left my first kiss on the cheek
of a giggling girl in first grade.
I left my nuclear power protest sticker
next to the spot where my tag was sprayed

I left my childhood at the cemetery,
at the spot where we said my dad goodbye.
I left my boy scout uniform in a buried box,
the minute I realized most of life is a lie.

I left my grown-up dreams and goals,
rolled up in my graduation certificate.
I left my middle class opportunities
becoming just a slave seemed inadequate.

I left home and found another,
a different country, a different life.
I left the foolish thoughts on success behind,
knowing breathing and loving is all to survive.

I left all the falls politeness for just being that,
found the joy in mixing my wandering footsteps with dirt.
I left being scared of sarcasm and rebellion poetry acts,
knowing nothing, maybe some, knowing, knowing truth would hurt.

And again..

And again, it's Sunday
like in every week that's passed
a new chapter to history
the week is over it didn't last

And again, it's raining
like in every autumn that's gone by
a new born darkness arrived
one that make's me cry

And again, the wind is howlin'
like in winter I thought had ended
the screaming louder than ever
peaceful silence not defended

And again, thunder is marching
as in days we hoped were elapsed
brown boot heels clicking
the dream of humanity collapsed

And again, chosen ones need shelter
like in days that should be perished
the rising of the ignorant mass
compassion no longer cherished

And again, the cold concurs
like when the winter sun goes down
hiding for a freezing tomorrow
while the running scared drown

And again, history is repeating
like memories just have vanished
no learned lessons, no lessons learned
the human progress stupidly banished

And again, the fight needs courage
like those who were brave decades ago
a war to win against our own
against darkness of the shadow

Stupidly numb

I was wrong,
he said
but he wasn't.
I didn't go for the line,
he said
but he was already there.

I messed up,
he said
but he didn't.
I never found,
he said
but he received his share.

I didn't see,
he said
but he wasn't looking.
I didn't feel,
he said
but she was there.

I didn't live,
he said
but he was breathing.
I didn't get it,
he said
but he got his share.

It's better to be blind
and still able to see
It's better to be deaf
and still able to hear
It's better to be paralyzed
and still be able to feel
than being a complete man
but stupidly numb.

Living life outside the clouds

There's a storm coming up
without clouds in the sky
The sun is shining bright
so I wonder why

Why's the wind so violent
as the rain is on leave
as trees were standing silent
in a quiet summer breeze

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

Nature is deceiving me
like human beings do
they try to get me down
but I don't have a clue

For all I know it is alright
my discussion with the rain
but lies do fall drop by drop
I just can not explain

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

A laughing sun whispers
it all will become bright
but all I see is darkness
not even a little light

It seems the rhythm of my life
believing I did it right
receiving sunny answers
but the storm rules out of sight

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

Maybe tomorrow it's gonna rain
maybe the sun is gonna shine
it doesn't really matter
loneliness will be fine

safely being out the way
not hearing any word
no lies no false appraisals
it's save although absurd

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

Away from anything that breaths
except some plants and trees
makes it all much easier
I know my mind agrees

Living life outside the clouds
not excepting rainy days
keeping to myself and I
freedom comes in many ways

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

The storm show's many faces
some angry some in pain
up close they are all smiling
mixed messages how insane

(lyrics for a bluezy song)

On hostile grounds

Did my best to make it happen,
lost all the hours by being me.
Said Yes to all the shout-outs,
emptied my pockets, gave away the key.

Old friends just being grateful,
different leaves, but we're from the same tree.
No hurt, no pain, no suffer divides us,
on love, respect and privacy we agree

Taking a gamble to look further,
beyond the roots of old friends.
Walking into a new orchard,
uncertain where freedom ends.

Being open, being bounteous,
trying to grow on new grounds.
Trying to hear the word friendship,
just not knowing how it sounds.

The old trees on the land,
move different in the wind.
Cloudy, mystique messages,
spreading the feeling I have sinned.

Planted shallow into infertile soil,
reaching out to the sun.
Taking their shadow for granted,
grasping out to be part of their fun.

It takes a lifetime of learning,
finding a way to enjoy the fruits.
It takes a lot of swallowing pride,
before the first root shoots.

Old achievements don't count,
there's a new chain-gang blues to sing.
I will do all, and all for free,
but not for nothing.

Hunting for the wrong dream

You've got a brain to think,
a mind to have thoughts,
your heart just a blood pumping device.

You should have a conscience,
an internal guide to right and wrong,
a knowing when to sacrifice.

Your spirit could forget all wrong,
faith a deceiving companion on the edge,
while looking with indoctrinated believes into the abyss.

Your personal morality explained as integrity,
aware of good and bad you've made a choice,
hunting supremacy at a high price.

You're supposed to have a soul,
a non-located keepsake vault,
for travels to an imaginary paradise.

Between Dawn and Dusk

The white sparkling grass,
frozen during a moonlightness night,
scorned the warmth offered by
the early Sunday morning sun.

Coulored beams like shiny brass,
awakening the world with daylight,
scaring away the life threatening cold
with a clarifying and natural vision.

At noon the fields are green at last,
revealing a temporary beautiful sight,
the fight between dawn and dusk discloses
planet Earth's manic depression.

Nights in ragged flannel

Nights in bleached cotton

ending much to soon

daylight long forgotten

living only with the moon

Beauty I've always seen

there for the taking

but a taker I've never been

just a dream before awaking

Gazing at other early birds

traveling in the dark

are they going homewards

or are they living in the park

Lust for life gets evaporated

each day a lonesome emptiness

mutual time cruelly prorated 

never any daylight blitheness

Nights in ragged flannel

to short to get some rest

enjoyment on deferral 

an aging heart in my chest

Beauty I've always known

shivering by the lac of light

still our light bulb love has grown

knowing the future is going to be a fight

Fabricated answers..

There's never been a solution,

there's never been a helping hand.

For those who seek consolation,                    

for those who seek their space.

There's never been a book,

there's never been a guide.

For those who lost their senses,

for those who abandoned trust.    

Time does not have all answers,

the answers aren't revealed.

For those daring to ask questions,

for those freed from of divine facts.

Reality is just a presumption

for those who can't bare a holy vacuum

Figments accepted as deliverance

by those with a darkened power of cogitation.

Why didn't we die in time

Why didn't we die when we were twenty?
When we were melted in each other's love
Why didn't we die when we were twenty?
When the future was a far away horizon.

Why didn't we die when we were thirty?
When our hearts still overruled our brains
Why didn't we die when we were thirty?
When days to come were just pictures in the fog.

Why didn't we die when we were forty?
When making love became a form of art and poetry
Why didn't we die when we were forty?
When we were breathing each others fantasy's

Why didn't we die when we were fifty?
When thoughts about the past were vague memories
Why didn't we die when we were fifty?
When our love grew to unconditional trust.

Why didn't we die when we were sixty?
When our body's could still bare the tortures of aging
Why didn't we die when we were sixty?
When gravity was fought with pride.

Why didn't we die when we were seventy?
We would never have known each others pain
Why didn't we die when we were seventy?
We would never have lost our independence.

Why didn't I die when you left life
Then I wouldn't have known the pain of emptiness
Why didn't I die when you left life
Then I wouldn't have to mourn until my last breath.