Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, December 09, 2010
In The Garden
In the garden your thoughts may digress, no commitment to stay affixed to any particular thought for any length of time.
Because hear in the garden, all notions are the potions of emotions. The visual textures of the leaves in the trees that speak to you as they swirl in the wind.
As the rain comes to a stop, a garden snail slowly slithers out of the flower troff.
The serdry sounds of sparrows chatting, as the
Humming bird sticks it's peeb into the center of a flower to extract nectar.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Voice
Its in the voice behind your eyes that makes you realize.
That thought so clean and pure.
When viewed from all angles, still rings true.
It's that rare moment encapseald.
Have you been there, can you see it?
Don't be afraid, you need not hide, Its your power.
This force so benevolent is your knowledge, wisdom.
your ability to sort good from bad.
Relax, observe, then make a choice.
In existence, we can only change ourselves.
The notion that we can change others
there needs or desires outside ourselves, is preposterous.
An effort to do so would be like trying to bite your teeth.
Your finger trying to touch itself.
Or trying to lift your favorite armchair wile you sit in it.
Directly or indirectly, we are still all part of one another,
In our mortal existence, all we really have is ourselves.
Yet erroneously, we still depend on one another
to live out our lives as we know it.
Alfred J. Trerotola 2006
That thought so clean and pure.
When viewed from all angles, still rings true.
It's that rare moment encapseald.
Have you been there, can you see it?
Don't be afraid, you need not hide, Its your power.
This force so benevolent is your knowledge, wisdom.
your ability to sort good from bad.
Relax, observe, then make a choice.
In existence, we can only change ourselves.
The notion that we can change others
there needs or desires outside ourselves, is preposterous.
An effort to do so would be like trying to bite your teeth.
Your finger trying to touch itself.
Or trying to lift your favorite armchair wile you sit in it.
Directly or indirectly, we are still all part of one another,
In our mortal existence, all we really have is ourselves.
Yet erroneously, we still depend on one another
to live out our lives as we know it.
Alfred J. Trerotola 2006
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Hook In Hand
In a bout with my fear, I cant run.
I must choose to face, what will be my toughest hurdle.
If I can do this, pull it off, I can do anything.
It's all about freewill and who you are.
Your desires and needs, tempered by discipline, self restraint.
Their must be nothing like being at one with who you are.
Finally settling, to fill that void within.
To understand your foundation, what you have to build upon.
Accept and move on.
If I can do this, pull it off, I can do anything.
It's all about freewill and who you are.
Your desires and needs, tempered by discipline, self restraint.
Their must be nothing like being at one with who you are.
Finally settling, to fill that void within.
To understand your foundation, what you have to build upon.
Accept and move on.
Do you see yourself, do you know who you are.
Can you feel your feet press in the sand, as you walk along a beach,
or do you hear the thunder in your head pushing out.
Can you run along side your dreams, keep up with your own pace,
think on your toes in that moment of need.
Can you feel your feet press in the sand, as you walk along a beach,
or do you hear the thunder in your head pushing out.
Can you run along side your dreams, keep up with your own pace,
think on your toes in that moment of need.
Suddenly awake, your standing alone in a field,
left to right, all around, nice cut grass.
A hundred yards ahead, towers a chain link fence ten stories high.
In your hand, you hold an iron hook.
You must climb that fence to get to the other side.
Bravely, you step forward,
swing that hook high above your head, into a link in the fence.
With hook in hand, you start the climb.
At first, the climb is easy.
But the higher you go, the looser the fence is.
By the time you almost reach the top,
left to right, all around, nice cut grass.
A hundred yards ahead, towers a chain link fence ten stories high.
In your hand, you hold an iron hook.
You must climb that fence to get to the other side.
Bravely, you step forward,
swing that hook high above your head, into a link in the fence.
With hook in hand, you start the climb.
At first, the climb is easy.
But the higher you go, the looser the fence is.
By the time you almost reach the top,
the fence is so loose, it bow's back, arched over your head,
as you hang, vertical to it's side.
Far below you, is that dark green field,
shadowed by cloud cover.
shadowed by cloud cover.
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Only Way I Know
I know not how this tale will end, or just how far will go.
To see what's stretched out on the other-side.
A new frontier, a different way of life.
A chance to see the truth within.
In a fleeting glimpse of memory, a smile is born, from a thought of happier days.
The days when you were young, and life would last forever.
Cause now I know how life can be. This world can be so cold and cruel.
That only few care to accept there fellow man for who they are.
We see what we want to, we are so quick to judge.
We see what we want to, we are so quick to judge.
To cast away, the ones with tainted goods, no second chance be given.
For there is not left the time to share, we've all gone running scared.
Hence this time and space that binds us, is diminished by the hour.
As I speak to you, I wonder, will I ever see the day
when shifting sands unearth a path to freedom.
A freedom not whithered by the hands of distrust or despair,
but one of balance forged in certitude.
In my life, i've never quite been sure this is possible.
A freedom not whithered by the hands of distrust or despair,
but one of balance forged in certitude.
In my life, i've never quite been sure this is possible.
So in a quiet desperation,
I will wait.
I will wait.
It's all about perspective, the light by which you see.
The foreground and the distance, attitude, and persistence.
The foreground and the distance, attitude, and persistence.
So check your position, and watch your step.
Fear not the answers of your mother natures calling.
For she'll never steer you wrong,
it's the only way I know.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Do What You Dare
Do you ever read between the lines,
stuck between two worlds ever reach-in out,
to the friends who know what you've been through,
can they feel your pain do they see your bout.
Running behind closed doors,
shouting out whispers that know-one can hear.
It's all in your dreams and your thoughts,
lying beside her, you do what you dare,
life isn't fare.
In a room surrounded by four walls,
would they ever know, had to have it all.
In this life when nothing stays the same,
when you live a lie, do you feel the shame.
Fighting to hide what you feel,
emotional madness that seems so unreal.
This all gets much harder to bare,
lying beside her, you do what you dare,
life isn't fair.
can they feel your pain do they see your bout.
Running behind closed doors,
shouting out whispers that know-one can hear.
It's all in your dreams and your thoughts,
lying beside her, you do what you dare,
life isn't fare.
In a room surrounded by four walls,
would they ever know, had to have it all.
In this life when nothing stays the same,
when you live a lie, do you feel the shame.
Fighting to hide what you feel,
emotional madness that seems so unreal.
This all gets much harder to bare,
lying beside her, you do what you dare,
life isn't fair.
When you see what you want to see,
time to take a look.
If you close your eyes to what's there,
your life's on a shelf, your fooling yourself.
In the heat of these games that you play,
got to hide away.
Your caught in a tangled web,
and it's pulling you down and holding you bound.
Do you ever read between the lines,
stuck between two worlds ever reach-in out,
to the friends who know what you've been through,
can they feel your pain do they see your bout.
In a room surrounded by four walls,
would they ever know, had to have it all.
In this life when nothing stays the same,
when you live a lie, do you feel the shame.
The Groovy Little Snail
The groovy little snail,
with her slimy little trail.
Tells a tale of where she's been,
you might have seen her now an then.
In our buildings down the hall,
in our crowded shopping malls.
With her tiny bubble butt,
and her life all in a rut.
You see, her mind's so on the go,
what she thinks nobody knows.
How elusive she can be,
as she brings us to our knees.
Through the pain and all the tears,
as the months turn into years.
On that slimy little trail, she will surely fail.
As she blaze's her rainbow stain behind her.
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