We all struggle to get to the top of something
Be it a crowning achievement, goal, way of life
Or marker that sets us apart
And allows us to look down, while the rest looks up
But getting there is a 10,000-hour journey
Maybe longer, maybe shorter
All depending on luck, patience, persistence
And allowing yourself to get lost along the way

It starts at the bottom, where dreams are built
But you are not alone, except for in thoughts
For at the base, you are surrounded by millions of people
Content with never reaching the top
They stare at you, laugh, and call you crazy
Say things like
“Dreams don’t pay the bills”
“Where are you going with those holes in your shoes?”

They criticize
Tell you all the things you’re doing wrong
Tell you you’re not talented enough
And ask, who are you to dare?
But there is only one person
With enough belief to keep this train moving
That person is you
And you’re all alone

Like a child, waiting on a wish
The only adult still believing in Santa Claus
You cling to faith, hope, fantasy
And something inside of you that refuses to let go
The keeper of the heart
The dreamer of dreams
The blood that artists bleed
The light that shines in you

You have to get it out
Or die trying
There is no other way
No other choice
Never has been
Never will
You are in it
For better or worse

And for what?
Why struggle? Why bleed?
What’s the point of it all?
Life is questions, death is answers
All this work for little reward
And the worse part
You don’t know what’s at the top
You just know that you have to get there

Is it the journey or the destination?
You can’t tell what’s more important
You’re too caught up in one or the other
To appreciate where you’re at
During the journey,
All you can think about is the destination
And while at the top,
You can’t help but ruminate about getting there

The past
The anchor to all of life’s ships
It can slow us or stop us
But never lets us go
Where we’ve been
Competes with where we’re going
And where we’re going
Isn’t decided until it has passed

We all need something to look forward to
A carrot dangling in front of us
But once we get it, we just want more
Always more, never satisfied
For there is never just one top
Only a range
And the sad truth, no matter how hard we try
We can’t climb them all

So how do you get
To where you are going?
When all you have
Is where you’ve been?
How do you compete with the millions?
Who don’t care what becomes of you
There are no answers
Only movement

People offer you short cuts
For money or something in return, of course
But there are no easy paths
Only hard work, sweat, and tears
Can set you free
But sometimes that isn’t enough
Sometimes luck is all that separates
Our dreams from reality

There is no elevator to the top
Only stairs and suffering
Bruises, blisters, and battered hearts
Forward motion and exertion
There’s a mule in all of us
While depression and loneliness
The fossil fuels of the heart
Compete with love, a breath of fresh air

You see people above you
Who don’t belong there
Imitators in life’s game
That play by their own set of rules
You see people deserving of the top
Homeless at the bottom
Begging for change
And reaching out a hand to you

Short-time lovers distract you with warm beds
Alcohol entices you with escape
Old flames prod you awake during sleepless nights
Ghosts seek shelter beneath the cracks of your existence
If only you were something you were not
Then you could be everything you are
But you can’t be a tiger without stripes
Insanity is the search of love without love

Life will give you lemons
When you need to make lemonades
Sometimes it will give you apples
To make apple juice instead
Whatever it gives you, use it
Whatever it doesn’t give you, don’t despair
Keep searching
You’re bound to find something

I sing a song just for you
My Allison comes in bloom
How could I ever compare to you?
Like a dream to be awakened

Flowers grow in your hair
They soak the sun and calm the rain
To the depths of pouring gray
A shade of green in a long December

Sparkled white in red lipstick
Your smile spreads like a butterfly
Taking steps and blown away
Clouds of footprints across the sky

The ocean blue swims in your eyes
Forever drawn upon your face
Shining rivers and beautiful lakes
Painted like the weather

Softly spoken like a bird in flight
Flying home beneath the starry night
If love was as opposite as black and white
Then I’d be wrong to make you right

Like a pen worn upon a page
Ink-dipped darkness radiates
Words written in a fog of blue
The only light I see is you

I remember as a child watching
Bulldozers chew up our dirt road
Spitting up gravel and rocks
Into places I never been
The ditch sacred as a graveyard
Became a battlefield of mud
I stood in the silence of my window
Listening as motors crackled like fire

Men with chainsaws ate through wood
Childhood trees were chopped to dust
A reminder of my misery
An open sky where once was shade
I remember hating those men
Whose machines of progress
Ripped through our yard
And took away my dreams of fairness

I threw rocks at the parked tanks
And expressing my frustration
But every stone bounced back
Cursing their existence
To lay at my feet
Only dents in Goliath
They could not slay the beast
A part of me grew up then

Years later I felt the pin prick of irony
For my summers retired from college
Were employed by the Road Commission
Serving those who brought me woe
Have served me now in paying bills
While off in the distance was the dirt road
My childhood could not save
I was older then, not quite as young

The child in me gone
I had changed like the road
Progress paved me anyway
Once coarse with a fiery determined youth
As I stood with what I use to fight
I realized the twists and turns
Encountered in this life
Had a way of turning back

My mind still walks on that old dirt road
It carries a part of me left behind
The dusty, muddy youth before the fall
The washboard bumps of long ago
With years ahead and miles alone
The road was rough, but it’s smoother now
Have settled into me now
Paved into the distance

Out of all of the billions of people that occupy this Earth

It only takes but one to make us feel all alone….

Like a child confined to the body of an adult….

Abandoned when all we wish is to be carried….

Empty like a desert filled with sand….

Just a stranger along the lines of infinity

To think amidst the millions are those….

Who think they are in love, but have never been in love

Who have seen the world, but not experienced it

Who have travelled, but never wandered

Who have dreamed, but never lived

Who have swam in the ocean, but not willingly

Who have climbed a mountain….

Only to be concerned with the way down

Who have witnessed children at play….

Yet never partook in play themselves

The world is full of doubt and regret….

Of fires that burned, but never glowed

Of intellectuals that thought, but never dared

Of moments dreamt, but never ceased

Of areas of gray dulled, but never colored

Of strangers kept at a distance, but never welcomed

If all of life is but the space

That comes between a birth and a death

Then let the opposite of what we fear

Be all that we are allowed to be

So that out of our sorrow there be only happiness

Out of our pain there be only a promise

That tomorrow will better the worse of today

That time will lessen all that destroys us

That all behind us is a step in front of us

Carrying us not towards an end, but more living

When my eyes crack open the door
Of sleep’s nocturnal slumbering house
To the wide open yard of reality
I look at the blank place where you should be laying
And wonder where you are in this moment
Or in your thoughts as you lay awake
Telepathically touching and longing each other
Yet caught in the span of empty bed spaces

I stare into your invisible beauty
Wearing a natural face, no make-up needed
Caught in the plainness of tired waking
Yet made beautiful by the breaking of your smile
No sunrise can touch the parting of your lips
No light as bright as the whiteness of your teeth
In this moment I am truly awake
For dreams are just distractions
My first thoughts are of you
If I am part of your dreams
And never want to sleep again
Keeping me away from you

As my stomach rumbles I think of breakfast
The meal I would make and share with you
Eggs and bacon, toast and orange juice
Served on trays brought forth to you
And eaten in bed between two smiling faces
I lay awake with these thoughts
Part of me wanting to return to dreams
Where in them we are together
And start another day without you
Then I slowly get out of bed

The bar is filled as characters take the stage
The young, the old, and those who hide their age
I stand like a doctor diagnosing their thoughts
Gestures, clothing, and faces—I connect the dots
Names unknown to me I can only speculate
My vision is the canvas upon which I create
Their stories are true with a touch of abstract

Business man dressed for success from head to toe
The outside says money, the inside hollow
A smile covers his intentions like a blanket
Drawing conclusions without all the facts
Polished hair combed back, freshly cut
Is his wealth and taste compensation?
Making up for a personal limitation
Is there more to him than a dollar sign?
A compelling story behind the headline

Wearing all black she appears Goth
The night attracts her like light to a moth
Opening the pain of places she’s been
Her piercings are just holes carved in her skin
Her make-up is dark and her hair is Mohawk
The mascara runs down her face like seconds on a clock
Something about her being different is a blessing
So easy to judge without even guessing

The 1940s called and wanted their hipster back
Imitating cool he is a needle in a haystack
He’s got the moves to ride with the clothes
He wears the style to hide the size of his nose
He appears above but comes from below
Posing as a mountain that is really plateau
Am I wrong to judge him this way?
Maybe he’s just a cat gone astray

She’s got legs that walk away my eyes
A short skirt hiked way past her thighs
I don’t have to know her to know what she’s not
Two twin sisters shows me what she’s got
With every stare I can’t help but undress
As her clothes become obstacles that block out the rest
If she could be painted then Mona Lisa would be jealous
The cover of her book is the only story she can tell us

Spiked hair, collar popped, frat boy without a doubt
His favorite band Nickelback, oh what a sellout
He has as much brains as a snake does arms
Perhaps there is a winning personality behind the act
But I got a feeling deep conversations are something he lacks
In his mind he’s always Maverick, but never Goose
He gets the girls with looks and charms
If steroids were a drink he’d call it juice

She is dressed very nice and casual, definitely not a slut
Or maybe she’s disguising it like a band aid on a cut
Play out the game and see what the cards are showing
She appears to be a girl worth dating
Or is it just a fantasy my mind is creating
Maybe I should take action and talk to her
See if my gambling mind has drawn a winner
But I like her so much better not knowing

The show is over and I stand alone
While everyone leaves, taking their lives home
I have learned much and nothing at all
Tales tied tight with strings of truth and tall
Everyone I’ve met and everyone I’ve seen
Are but parts of an elaborate machine
They hum, combust, move, and break
And from them this is what I take….
All of us have something in life we can easily fake