Regret(s)

"I would rather feel contrition than know how to define it." - Imitation of Christ

Bent to pick up a nickel, brought to the ground
The forces of the earth, magnetic, pull down
A moment begat another of disappointment
Now I'm soothing my regret with a timeworn ointment

Two strokes on a page, lost will, in the ledger
It's a new page, but you know you're a repeat offender
Left the meek - when you were weak - by the side of the road
Guess that's why they call it abandon; can't say you didn't know

Whatever floats your boat is a ship to scuttle
And unrequited love is an urgent rebuttal
Every stick in the mud is reduced by a sickle
Should've known better than to pick up a nickel

Calling

"It is vanity to wish for long life and to care little about a well-spent life." - Imitation of Christ

Just found my calling, and I've been working here four years
Ever the optimist, the capitalist
The enterprising will,
I almost missed it.

There's no leveraging these skills.
This is it. Today is my big chance, again.
Exert 146 pounds of force, no less,
And be moved by the First Mover.

Well-read

Read wide without guidance
Like a squirrel, bulged cheeks
Devouring and hoarding
And the cache still reeks

Lusting and eager
More terrible than earnest
He's fracking the seams
To stoke up the furnace

Overseeing the pour
Forgetting the forms
The idea is dead
While the body's still warm

Each phrase like a key
On a ring in his head
"Boy's all right, and
He seems well-read."

Yep

Can't really tell if he's a philosophe or uniquely dim.
Pithy ejaculations of candour, insight and confusion.
The kind of guy you'd eat soup with.
He's much more interesting than people usually are,
and not only because he's an enigma or strangely entertaining.
He'd never harm a fly or even give em sass.
Even dogs know he's a good guy.
Word gets around, I guess.

This wooden house

Coldplay said "I wanna live in a wooden house, where makin more friends would easy."
It sounds good and made me feel warm and hopeful.
But I guess it must be a metaphor,
Cuz this house is my only new friend, and a leaky one at that.
Should've bought a hot tub.

The Ocean

I hate the ocean
It's far too wide
That black, salty expanse
of weeds and hidden animals
and endless horizons.
That's not my domain.
A lake is much better
if I see smoke of a distant campfire
then I know I'm not alone
Not like the Pacific.
And don't get me started on heaven.

Rolled, tossed about by doubt
And certain there's no certain way out
With faith that falls just to rise
I hear the fools profess to be wise
Fearing heaven, for meeting the hidden
God is one and the same as being stricken
Fear, duty, loneliness, pride
Direction, introspection, the faith inside
At the end of this road absurd
It's good
To know that, in the beginning
was the Word