Commodity is a noun
But is less profound
And frankly, less True
Than Commodify, this is a verb.
When I type it,
The lesser minds of my personal computing devices
Underline this verb
With a LITTLE red line.
"That's not a word"
"That's not our verb"
They deny.
But I reply, with voice out of mind
As I point-and-click
My way to my own education.
And without hesitation
They reply,
"Very well, as long as we continue to
Sell, sell, sell."

The Last Days

In these last times
When desperation’s the only rhyme
And hearts are broken from inside
He will arise and
To light the narrow path to You.

And in these last years
When hatred fills the world with tears
And all we’ve heard becomes clear
We will revere
O Son
The help you sent to get us through.

And in these last days
When all the world’s in a haze
And all have gone their own way
There will remain
Of whom what has been said is true.

And in these last hours
Men will come to build their towers;
The press is broken, the wine is sour
But he is ours and
Can muster to take away what is new.

And in my last thought
I pray you lead me to what I ought to do
That you would guide me
Not to you
But to the One, the Son, who has come
That none should perish.

O lead me
With a lamp unto the Words of life
Grow me through my pain and strife
Show me the things of he who gave his life
That I, only I, would come to know
Because you show his evidence
And it’s evident that all he said


Some may say conformity is disease,
Often others will comply;
A champion of heart might also agree,
Though often he's been denied.

It is not the will of a man to integrate,
More likely should he enjoy himself;
The pain of this steadily waits
In pits dark and deep as Wells.

Why then, who then, where and how
Are the only queries left to ask,
For in our hearts we seek the same
But in our lives, we often mask.

Two Places at Once

Where are the words
That carry on in my head?
Thoughts of the absurd;
I feel like I've already been bled.

You might be confused
So let me clarify a little
These thoughts do not amuse me
Although I entertain them still.

"Here am I, send me"
More like "Here Am I,
At least I'm pretending to be."

Why should there be any answer?
This I question paradoxically.
Because the answer's in my head you see.

It's merely a question of the will
Whether I will suffer enough to bleed.
Will my heart be so frequently whittled
To the point that it's of no use?

Now all I see is red;
My vision is slightly blurred.

If There Was Ever A Reason

Is the mark of cynic
Could be my heart wasn't in it
But I think I'd rather save my brain for a minute

For one hard, long, unsatisfying minute
While I search for a new me
A new name, a new breed
A new moment in time

I knew this new me
He took my heart and made me
He ran away with my soul and made me whole
Made me bold with ambition, made me break the mold

Sometimes I wonder If there was ever a reason
Ever a season for change, for a coup
Something shiny and new, for you
Is that you? Simply a clue?

Or a trace, just a taste
Of that Water made me haste
For a taste no longer, I was whole
I was known, I was thought to be warm

But slowly, ever so slowly and lonely
Did I let myself grow so cold
And now, now there is no


There is only then


There is when


Will I?

Can I?


Old Habits

This is what I hate
I hate that corner inside
Where only darkness can subside
Where only light is afraid to go
Where only I can change
But I've been maimed

Here's the thing:
Darkness, was it before or after?
And light, was it first day or first night?
It's not the chicken-and-the-egg
But sometimes it feels like darkness was meant to be.

Poem vs. Poet

This life is a game
Of Poem vs. poet
Everyone has a part to play
Most of you just don't know it.

I'll write these words up
While you take them down
Every line is bleeding to


With something so PROFOUND.

It's all a waste of time
Like Gatsby
And Willy
And Judas
All the same
You whistle along in life
Watch out!
they might give you a name

Like he or she
Or person or "we" but please, O please don't take away me from me O me O me O me O me O me me Me

Freedom: Volume III

It's all you've got, this freedom fight,
You bind your will, your mind, your might
You pass your bills, you protest obstruction
But you wait in silence (the dark) for you destruction.
All the while you sweat and toil
You change perceptions and gather spoils
"Fret for freedom" you hear them say,
"Ignore the signs and there'll be Hell to pay."

All this freedom, it's a useful filler
To "keep your eyes off the real Killer."

Freedom: Volume II

Propaganda leaks from your pores;
It must run through your veins;
Your blood-stained collar of Red, White, and Blue betrays you.
Untamed tongues produces the lies
You claim to be truth;
Whenever you open your mouth,
You close your eyes - you don't realize
That your senses have been paralyzed.

Freedom: Volume I

Fret for freedom, it's all you've got
Don't let them take away your right;
Fight not for power or fame, but civil liberty - be free.
The longer the struggle, the greater the ground!
Don't look down, keep your eyes fixed ahead.
Free your mind, it's your only weapon,
And there's time, there's time, there's time.


Philosophies are not what you think
Some are bold, others cold
And all of them succinct.

Try to capture your mind
Write it down into something sublime
Forget that you are blind.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a bloody wood
And jaded, as though I'd lost all senses
And let sour what of my heart was good,
Ashamed, hard-hearted, and naked I stood
In my indecision, my self-fixed state of mind;
How could one choice made millions of times
Be my crutch, my sustaining, and yet be my demise?
And in this wood, bodies of bone and flesh
Have passed on to seek out what is right
While others lay and brave ones stand
Staring fixed upon their coming plight.
On leaves the blood drips, now turning cold
The war has been fought and already won
But my mind, gone black, says I'm undone
And with all complacency my heart turns to stone.
So now I lay discomforted, and tell you with a sigh
I walked this day and I made no offense:
Two roads diverged in a bloody wood, and I-
I lay flanked by the fork and die,
And that has made all the difference.

Those Who Will

Those who will to follow me
Will pay the greatest price
I died for you, laid dead for you
The bell tolled, heads rolled
None were greater than my sacrifice
You see, yes I was Man, I was you
But my life, I lived in debt
Through my words, through my hands
I made it impossible to forget
That He created good, He did not faulter
He did not make a mistake
For He let my blood to pour
On the Golgotha, the Sheol of First Adam
And the flaming sword He placed in the East
Now guards your hearts as the altar
And burns white for the hour
In the Valley of Megiddo to bring its slaughter
Yet those who will to follow me
Will pay the greatest price
You'll die for me, lay dead for me
The bell tolls, heads will roll
None greater than your sacrifice.

Silent Satisfaction

Blessed is the one
Who comes to bring judgment
And further, the one
Who shatters man's grave

No longer, in peril
Will His empire suffer
But through us, through might
Will He conquer and save

How terrible it is
To be subject to wrath
The wrath that comes
To even the brave

Show pity, my people
When in glory He reigns
Show pity to those
When His scepter is raised

Though now, I see
There is one who claims
His calling, His burden
There he is, ashamed

We will take him
And kill him, as proof to all
That no one shall bear
And none shall lay claim

We take him
We kill him
We wait for the day
We wait in silent satisfaction...

There Is A Kind

There is a kind
There is a kind of earth
A kind of dry, dead earth
That supports life.

There is a kind
There is a kind of wind
A kind of wind that brings not destruction
But conviction, judgment.

There is a kind
There is a kind of water
A kind in which submersion does not drown
But baptizes into life.

There is a kind
There is a kind of fire
A kind of fire that burns everything away
That is the only kind of fire.

© 2006 Silent Satisfaction