leftcoast's Diaryland Diary

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there is no beginning to the story
a bookshelf sinks into the sand
& a language learned & forgot,
in turn, is studied once again
it's a shocking bit of footage
viewed from a shitty TV screen
you can squint at it through snowy static
to make out the meaning
just keep stretching the antennae,
hoping that it will come clear
we need some reception, a higher message,
just tell us what to fear
because i don't know what tommorow brings
it is alive with such possibilities
all i know is i feel better when i sing
burdens are lifted from me,
that is my voice rising!

so michael, please keep the tape rolling
boys, keep strumming those guitars
we need a record of our failures
we must document our love
i have sat too long in my silence
i have grown too old in my pain
to shed this skin, be born again,
it starts with the ending
so thank you friends for the time we shared
my love stays with you like sunlight & air
oh, how i truly wish i could keep hanging around here
but my joy is covering me
soon, i will disappear

it's not a movie,
no private screening
this method acting,
well, i call that living
it's like a fountain,
a door has opened
we have a problem with no solution
but to love & to be loved

so, i've made peace with the falling leaves
i see their same fate in my own body
but i won't be frightened when i am awoken from this dream
& returned to that which gave birth to me
& the story goes on & on & on & on...

5:35 p.m. - 2004-11-06

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