Gathering all of the Vibes

We are all connecting.
The bits and pieces that make the machine.
We are integrating, interfacing,
the innovation of purpose.
Each driven by individual need,
yet our goals somehow run parallel.
Even if our steps are out of time,
our actions out of sync.
Our hearts beat together,
our pulse united.
Our humanities roots run deep,
this biomass coalescing, culminating,
the actions of generations,
lived into fruition.
We are the joyous sound on the lips of our children,
here unto the ever after.

Hold the Line 5/23/2011

I've left a copy of myself on the floor
the one that picks up the phone
that answers the door
a facsimile of me
in gray scale we all look the same

I'm picking up piece by piece
putting together the dots
holding on the other line
waiting for myself to come through
put back together

So frames keep running on
without me spliced into the film
A fake, a cardboard cutout
The smiling face gone without a trace

This copy by the door
the one that answers when it's called
can't pick up the phone anymore

I'm picking up piece by piece
editing myself together
holding the line
waiting for me to come through
put back together

We All Fall Down 4/27/2011

This is my heart, the beat from across the room.
Should I fail, I hope you remember the rhythm.
This is the part, the moment when when I fall,
When I fail, who's there to catch me when I stumble?

I've held myself in check
Let me fears get the best of me
I walk from one cliche to the next
Following or followed
My hopes lie fallow

This is my heart, the beat you hear without knowing.
When I fail, when I fall, I hope you remember the rhythm.
With my last breath, with my final beat.
I hope you remember the rhythm of my heart.

This is my song, my final melody.
When I fail, I hope to hear you sing my joy eternal.
When I fall, my hope keeps my reaching from my knees.
When I find my rhythm, my breath again.
My hope is that you are with me.

Vary Lumar: "The Jig is Up"

Moved to notesfromthemanagement.blogspot.com

My Center Holds

The parts that float away,
Pulled by someone else's gravity
Their attraction not enough to draw me out.
My center holds

You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
To that sweet release

I don't wear my damage on my sleeve
My scars are hidden underneath
I don't need to be drawn out
My center holds

When I hear your voice
I'm off like a shot to the North
I'm wading out to sea,
You're on the shore,
Calling me back to the beach.

You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
You draw me in, you draw me closer
Closer to that sweet release.

A Lot of Love to Give

I thought that I was broken
Left over from my demolition
I thought that I had shattered
To look in the mirror and see the fractures spreading
Waking up, from my morbid day dream
Shaking off the dust
I am not a broken heart
I'm just an open heart
I've got this gift to give
I've kept it safe, kept it close
I'm not a broken heart
I've got a lot of love to give.

Keepers of the dead

We're all keepers of the dead. We wear our memories, etched like lithographs, hanging in the hallways of our hearts. We're all walking reminders, of joy and love resounding. Echoing, in the hallways of our hearts. Memories of forgotten blessings, unrecognized miracles, come flooding back with grief. We your fellow keepers, remember, we take the words out of your mouth and speak them as our own. We're all keepers of the dead, with the pain of loss still spreading, you are not alone.