War Dance


Ebb and flow

Of Chaos and Order



Power plays of passion

And feats of endurance

Among the rising tide

Anger and joy in unison



For each inch of ground

Sacred space owned by none

Owned by all

And shared



A killing field

Where ego dies

I die

You die

We die together

While finding life

In the common ground

Of all is none

All is one







The roar of battle

The calm of the storm

The embrace of life

In eternal moments

Where war is peace

And peace is war


One falls

All fall

One rises

All rise

Safety and strength in numbers

And our number is one


And fury breeds love

And rage brings release

And on the edge

Of the thin red line

We walk

We dance

We sing

We live


And we are



To The Lost

I didn’t know you.

Except I did.

I, just like the rest of the world, knew you. I knew your music. Your poetry. Your art. Your expression.

I knew your joy. Your pain. Your love. Your anger. Your sorrow. Your hate. Your despair.

I knew your success and I knew your failures. I knew your struggles and I knew your fight to endure, to rise after each collapse, to continue on when others might have fallen.

I knew your vices and your follies.

I knew your demons.

And I knew your Muse.

I knew you without ever knowing you, because of what you gave me, because of what you shared with me, and the rest of the world.

I never met you, but I knew you, and you knew me. Because you were me. And everyone else that you ever spoke to… spoke for.

You were my voice while I was finding my own. You were a voice for those who didn’t have one. And the world heard you.

And knew you… and because of you, knew me.

You were Scott. You were Dime. You were Jimi. You were Kurt. You were Layne. You were Janice. You were John. You were Jani. You were Randy. You were Freddy. You were Bob. You were Shannon. You were Dave. You were Jim. You were Cliff. You were Jeff.

And so many more.

You’re gone now, but still you remain. There is legacy. There is hope. And there are those not yet born who will also know you.

You’ve left us behind. But you’ve left everything you were with us.

And in that–in us–you will live.

The Ransom of Light

These hours are dangerous,
when there is only
the light we create
to hold back the darkness,
and somewhere between
passion and madness
is found the spark that
tames the thunder and
captures the wind
and with them weaves symphonies,
else these hours offer silence
and hopes and dreams
are allowed to wither and fade,
and be lost to the corpse of day…

The Wild

It’s wild out there,
and dangerous,
a wilderness full of peril:
the deep and dark woods,
the jagged lofty mountains,
the sweeping desert wastes,
and open, endless plains;

it’s wild out there,
among soaring glass spires
standing over a web
of asphalt and concrete and light;

it’s wild out there,
in those places were shadows loom,
and creatures both man and beast,
flesh and bone, known and unknown
lurk in search of flesh and soul for their feast;

it’s wild out there–

but never so wild
as the heart full
of an urge to go to do to be,
to wander under stars
on paths as yet untread;

it’s wild out there…

…but it’s wilder in me.