A time there was – as one may guess
And as, indeed, earth’s testimonies tell –
Before the birth of consciousness,
When all went well.
—Thomas Hardy, Before Life and After
Existence is a wound
That heals when you die
We can’t extinguish hurt
We can only try
You won’t earn any points
For trying to be nice
The cosmos doesn’t care
What we do with life
Everything we ever do
Is gonna fade away
The thing that really matters
Is how we act today
by Richard W. Bray
Happiness is a sad song
—Charles Schultz, from the book Happiness is a Warm Puppy
Everything was beautiful
Until it went wrong
Happiness
Is sad song
Weeping for Hecuba
And all those hurts beyond
Happiness
Is sad song
Poking ancient agony
Clutching what is gone
Happiness
Is sad song
Accepting my reality:
I loved you all along
Happiness
Is sad song
by Richard W. Bray
A good athlete must have that harmony of movements or rhythm, which is called “form”….From pitch, to swing, to ball, a whole series of rhythms are set off, one rhythm, or one motion, starting another. So it is in life—from sun, to moon, to earth, to night, to day, to you getting up in the morning and going out to play a game of ball. All the rhythms of life are in some way related, one to another. You, your baseball, and the universe are brothers through rhythms.
—Langston Hughes, The First Book of Rhythm
Get in sync
And harmonize
Earth and moon
And sun and sky
All the rhythms
Are connected
Ain’t a body
Unaffected
Sun ashinin’
Earth aspinnin’
Live the motion
Breathe the rhythm
by Richard W. Bray
Look at that messed up
Couple over there
She’s got a million tats
He never cuts his hair
Can’t you just be happy
They have one another?
Can’t you be happy
They found love with each other?
What could those people
Ever see in each other?
She’s the wrong age
And he’s the wrong color
If you got a comment
Just keep it in your throat
It isn’t your life
You don’t get a vote
So wrong for each other
Just headed for trouble
It really makes me sad
When the wrong people couple
In this crazy old world
It ain’t easy to stay warm
Can’t you just be happy
They found shelter from the storm?
by Richard W. Bray
O heart! oh blood that freezes, blood that burns!
Earth’s returns
For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!
Shut them in,
With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!
Love is best
—Robert Browing, Love Among the Ruins
What has posterity ever done for me?
—Groucho Marx
You did it
For the People
Is what you
Told yourself
You thought
You were
Bigger than
Everybody else
You ruled
You conquered
You told people
What to do
Now you’re just
As dead
As everyone
You knew
Time
Gurgles on
It’s gonna
Wash away
Everything
We ever do
And everything
We say
Existence
Is a gift
Will you squander
Your ration?
Or will you
Live your life
For love
And compassion?
by Richard W. Bray
existence
is a chain
the cost of flesh
is pain
live your hurt
don’t feed it
don’t take a knife
and bleed it
open up
and breathe
don’t grate yourself
like cheese
by Richard W. Bray
My guts are bleeding
My anatomy’s afire
The fog is receding
I’m a loser and a liar
Takes a toll on my health
When I pretend to be ok
Been lying to myself
Since I sent you away
Alone in my room
A wayward little boy
Living on the fumes
Of the love I destroyed
by Richard W. Bray
Never liked anyone
More than I like you
But keeping us together
Was more than I could do
Never lost anything
More lovable than you
I’m less than a man
For what I put you through
Paying the price
For being a dunce
True Love ain’t a thing
That happens more than once
by Richard W. Bray
Feelings are the engine
That transport every notion
Thought is merely freight
Carried by emotion
No one is impartial
Ideas don’t live in air
Logic is an afterthought
You think because you care
Thoughts appear rational
But this is an illusion
We aspire after stars
In dust of confusion
by Richard W. Bray
You can pry
And you can peel
You can flay
You can reveal
Strip me naked
To my soul
Detach my parts
To get my whole
Unlock pieces
That are real
Why I do
And what I feel
But who can ever tell me why
Cannonball Adderley makes me cry?
by Richard W. Bray
