Will I Stand Here Yet Tomorrow?      © TJL, 1/16/92

Will I stand here yet tomorrow, with the same things still undone?
Or have captured those moments, whose time's yet to run?
Will I gaze upon beauty I've strived to be near?
Or back upon memories, so ancient, yet clear?

Shall I break out on new paths I've stalled for so long?
Or learn a new skill, or sing a new song?
Will I speak a new language when day dawns anew?
Or content will I sit, with nothing to do?

Speed grows on my days, as older I get,
And dawn's lights to dark nights seem shortened, but yet,
I strive to get all of my earthly things done,
By the time all the moments of my life have run.

As I Grow Older © 1/16/98, TJL

I haven't done all that I've wanted to do, in this pitifully short time on earth;
I won't have been given the time that I needed to prove to me my own self-worth.
For all of the striving & living, for all of the times that I failed;
I'd take it all back in a minute, especially the times that I paled.

I'm surprised that I've made it this far, with only the scratches I've got,
And suffice it to say, I'm amazed at the times I was let off free as a Scot.
But as I grow older & gaze behind, at the wrongs & the rights I have done,
The actual number is something, I wonder, if counting them wouldn't be fun.

Do all of the lies I've told, & the times that I've said not a word,
Outnumber the times I've told the truth, or spoken for right causes heard?
Did I accomplish more good than evil, while standing atop the ground?
When I die will friends sing my praises, or easily make not a sound?

I've tried to follow the path laid out, by those who had the chore,
But have I come through, as they'd have me do, or failed to keep up my score?
For when the accounting is made, & I finally tally the due,
Will I have departed with you owing me, or will it be me owing you?

Once More, With Feeling © 1997 TJL

It took two lifetimes, give or take,
(To fix the pain, to mend the break.)
And then, I thought, "I've got it licked!"
("I've hid this thing that makes me sick.")

"It's Love," they told me, "It'll pass..."
(Like something bad that gives you gas?)
It'd knocked again, on my door, you see;
(It poked, and jabbed, and taunted me.)

"Come on out, and we'll be one!"
(I'd been this route; it wasn't fun.)
"I'd better not," my judgment said.
(But my heart won out, in duel with head.)

"I'll be just a moment!" my fool words came.
(But this time was different; it wasn't the same!
I'm older now, and wiser by far!)
(A fool with a tune and a box guitar...)

"It's Kismet! It's Fate! It's Destiny!"
(It's a kick in the teeth, Stupid, can't you see?)
But the tremors stilled, the rattling stopped.
(You couldn't see the bottom drop.)

"It's smoke! It's mirrors! It's just a trick!"
(A cruel one, that makes you sick...)
"Come on out and we'll be one!"
(Thanks, but no; it's just not fun.)

 

You Really Are Something
or
"Ode to Teddy Ruxpin, With Guns" © 8/98, TJL

There isn't much I haven't got, that any man could want;
I've got my health, enough to eat, these old familiar haunts,
A few close friends to carry me, when my own strength is gone,
And a deep appreciation for the sunset & the dawn.

I try to find the best there is in everyone I meet,
In king & pauper, queen & maiden poor upon the street,
But there are those who try their best to be what they are not;
They scheme, connive, deride & lie, & act the perfect sot.

Their arms are almost fractured, from patting their own backs;
They count their friends on half a hand, their enemies by sacks.
Each time they open up their mouths, it's just to put their feet;
But that's ok, because they say, " The taste is rosebud sweet."

Island to Island © 1/22/97, TJL

Yesterday's sadness had no depth defined;
Tomorrow's opportunities had not the will to be.
Forward was not a direction I had want to look.
Life had but little to interest me.

My days, ad nauseam, did slowly mount;
The toils of my life spread before me.
Mistakes of past dealings lay waste to my feelings,
And as much to my current good deeds.

Then a lamp was lighted in this dimness of mine;
A spark fairly kindled, diminishing shadows that consumed me.
The warmth of its' glow, a healing inside,
Lay bare the mask of indifference I'd worn, 'lo many years.

An island's gift of life to an island of grief and self-doubt;
Your very aura a man enslaved.
As a faint breath of spring blossom you entered the still air of my being,
And as such you remain, and will ever so in my heart.

The background for this page is courtesy of Kaleidoscope, a most generous helping of free web graphics with a traditional Japanese look about them.  Please visit Keiko's site.