Drippy

We are all connected
At least we two are so
By thoughts that are directed
Between us to and fro
And as we choose to go
Into the wide beyond
The thought that we can know
The other one is fond
Makes each day that's dawned
A little bit improved.
Like raindrops on a pond
That through the water moved
Show circles perfectly
So you are seen in me.

Hum

It is a joy to move within the mind
Exercising thoughts that had been pent
Using the brilliance nature to us lent
On every object that our eyes can find
Casting off the dull and boring rind
Of everyday routine beneath which, bent,
Our minds have huddled, thinking 'til we're spent
In an unusual and crazy kind
Of way. There's such a pleasure to be had
In simple thought and what it brings to bear
So much that I without it might run mad
Confined within the bounds of pressing care.
It is best to let the mind run free
And see what sort of mind it tends to be.

Set Theory

There are only just so many ways
A day can go. Oh sure a thousand things
Can happen in the spans of single days
But at the end the total daytime brings
Only so many feelings. I can be
Happy despondent bored completely chill
Or several others, but I fail to see
The infinite variety some will
Insist on. Overall I find each day
Though all itself still falls, when weighed in all
Into a certain set of senses, that all may
Be comprehended. And therefore I call
The days a little similar although
Each moment quantumly may choose to go.

Free Speeches

There are some words I simply cannot use
"Ain't" for instance sticks right in my throat.
For when I hear another man abuse
The language, then I just reach for my coat
And leave him be. I will not join him there
Strangely attacking every passing ear
With his decayed contractions. Yet I dare
Not make him stop, for nothing is more dear
Than our free speech. And so I simply turn
And walk away and do not use the word
For while my anger may intensely burn
Against the foolish utterance I heard
It is his own, and no one can deny
The right to speak, for any reason why.

Friendly

Friends can be a joy beyond belief
Which does not disappear when they are gone.
For in their presence there was some relief
From feeling isolated, overdrawn
And stretched out thin. Enjoying company
Can make the day seem shorter and more clear;
Man was made for good society
Not individual, but with a peer.
Being alone is good, I don't deny;
In fact I like it, but it must be mixed
With something else - or else we wonder why
Our orbit of society is fixed
Internally. We must be social, or
We find the life we live becomes a bore.

Lanu

Everybody sometimes has to say
"I'm sorry." There are even times
We mean it. And I like this evening's way:
A univeral "pardon me" that climbs
Across a melody that calls to me,
Bids me remember all the wrongs I've done
Think them all over most penitently
And ponder if I've troubled anyone
And not apologized; inspires, too,
My soul to seek forgiveness from my God
For all that I in weakness fled into
And all the errant paths that I have trod.
What could be better than communal prayer
To say "I'm sorry" and sincerely care?

Zens

The unknown way
Cannot be known
Thus all can say
It is their own
For who can claim
That they have erred
Or even blame
Them as impaired
For lying. No
It cannot be
For it is so
At least for me
So they can cry
But they all lie.

Plant

I have not been outside
I do not care to go
Imagine I have died
Except without the woe
Really I'm OK
And everything is good
It's just that for today
I do not think I would
Like to leave my place
And therefore I have not
I like to watch life race
While I sit here and rot.
So I will just be here
The world can disappear.

Wands

There a rootlessness brought on by being
Further away than I would like to be;
A sort of misdirected wrongly seeing
That makes a mental hobo out of me.
I wander in my mind and wonder what
The things I do could really ever mean,
While any meaning they could take is but
A figment of my overheated spleen
And everything is crooked. What I do
Seems oddly empty, like a vacant lot
Where skyscrapers should be. It's nothing new
Just the result of being where I'm not
And never being where I ought. I know
At least though where I really ought to go.

Divine?

I have erred before
Many times ere now
I'm not keeping score
But I will allow
That I would prefer
If it could be done
To no more incur
Error - it's no fun.
Yet I must remember
In despite of me
Error is the ember
Of humanity.
If I did not err
I would not be there.