Where Everyone Has A Fighting Chance
On A Woman Dressed In Black, By A Heart Dressed In Black
The Water's Shape, The Water's Soul
The Girl In The Movie (Song Lyrics)
The King Of Nothing (Song Lyrics)
I’m going full speed ahead
like a crazy locomotive,
possessed by all my dreams,
by all my desires,
wanting things I
can’t see how I can live without.
I am the train.
But God is the track.
He defines my course.
He keeps my wild yearnings
from dragging the universe behind them.
He keeps my longing
within his plan,
never letting it
take the world,
or even a little piece of it,
off course.
(And sometimes,
lost pieces are really
doing exactly what they’re supposed to,
and it would be
a crime to win them back.
Imagine how upset Shakespeare
would have been
if I’d reformed Iago.
It would have ruined everything!)
In the same way,
what would have become of the land,
if I had the power to prevent the tragedy
of the ebbing tide,
which seems to rob the sea
of its wild heart?
It would have been washed away by now!
And then, there is the sun.
What would the sun think if I were to banish
the night, stealing the beauty
of its coming, the beauty of
its first sweet rays peering over the edge of the earth,
that mean so much more
than its open eye of fire, burning up the fields?
Would I have crucified it so,
on the cross of always being there?
Every time
I suffer a defeat,
I know it is only God
keeping me on His track.
It is not me
against my foe,
it is my blind force
pitted against God’s plan;
and instead of anguish,
I should feel joy
that I do not have the power
to smash the universe
into pieces with my good intentions.
God is using me,
and I am His.
It does not mean I need to slow down
or stop being me.
This desperate train,
full of loving and hope,
furious when it catches sight of injustice,
is who I am.
It’s not for me
to stop trying.
But from now on,
every time I lose,
I am going to stop
blaming
God: stop saying,
"E tu, Brute?"
to the stars above.
They’re no assassins.
No, the defeats are only God’s track
making my life a part of the whole.
And the pain I feel -
so intense, I can hardly go on living -
is but the meeting
of my blind motion
with the vision of the track.
Every time I cry,
it is because
I’m serving God,
without my knowledge.
And every time I think I’ve failed,
I’ve really succeeded.
What a painful way to live,
until you realize what’s going on!
And then, suddenly,
you understand,
and recovering all the energy you used
to lose to rage and fear,
surge forward
with more power than ever,
giving your whole heart
to what you think is right,
while God
keeps you being
what He needs.
"Signature of parent or guardian" the form said.
It all came back to him years later,
and he realized, then, that he should have said, "Guardian."
For they were not his parents.
They never were.
They were just two kindly souls
who agreed to take care of him,
because he came out of one’s womb
after the other’s love
suggested him in the darkness.
"Hello, I am your mother," one said.
"And I’m your father," said the other.
And they thought they really were.
But, it turns out,
they had only adopted him.
His real parent had given him up
for adoption in the "mother’s" womb,
in the "father’s" home,
knowing they could give the boy
what he needed,
which was a knowledge of their ways.
But as a clue
he left a little shining in the boy’s heart,
so that when he came of age, he would
have the means of discovering the truth.
And when the caretakers who
he thought were his parents
began to make war upon
that shining -
fearing it, like travelers in the night,
who take off their jewelry -
frightened by it, like fugitives, hidden amidst enemies,
who will not let each other speak -
stranded from it, like chameleons trapped by the
color of where they are -
baffled by it, like archaeologists without a Rosetta stone -
he, at last, began to guess.
How could parents
not be proud of this little shining,
in a night so vast
that even a little light
could be as important as
a sun?
If the shining really came from them,
why were they trying so hard
to put it out?
And that’s when the revelation finally came.
That they were only his caretakers:
his kindly, adoptive parents,
misled into becoming his enemies,
by their fear.
That is when he began to search for a
face that looked like his,
a wound that matched;
most of all,
for a shining light
that would be like the discovery
of his real last name.
And that is when it happened.
That he found out that his real parent’s name
was God;
and that his real birthplace
was beyond the earth,
in God’s mind,
and in God’s heart:
in the very center of God, who was both his father and
his mother.
"Welcome home," God told him
at the door to His house
which was inside the young man,
built right into all of his
longing and terrible loneliness,
just like the caves the Pueblos once built
into the harsh cliffs of the desert.
"Have you met your brothers and sisters, yet?"
And he showed him
the whole earth.
Still in pain,
the boy could not prevent himself from saying
to his real parent,
whose love for everything he was
he could feel beginning to
reach even his deepest cut:
"Did you know, those people over there
tried to kill me?"
"You mean your caretakers?" God asked.
"Yes," the young man nodded.
"They tried to kill my shining.
They tried to kill everything
that made my life worthwhile."
"Their love lacked eyes," God replied.
"But it did not lack love.
Everyone loves in his own way.
Some’s way of loving heals,
some’s way of loving destroys.
Loving someone without knowing who they are
is the fastest way to kill them."
And God added: "A man
blows on embers in a fireplace
to keep a fire from burning out.
And he blows upon a candle to put it out.
Is the one you love like
the fireplace
or the candle? Love is knowing."
"So I was right to hate them?"
the young man asked, reminded of the injustice they had committed
by the scars that followed him
everywhere he went,
scars that were like knife wounds on his flesh,
and like canyons
in his heart.
"Hate is a way of defending yourself
when you are weak," God said.
"Before you did not know me,
you were weak.
But now you know me.
You are strong.
Now you do not need
to hate them to be
who you are:
you know.
Your life comes from me,
and no one else has
the right
to command you
or judge you.
Only me.
And what I want from you
is already in you.
Be who you are,
who you can find
inside yourself."
And again he said,
"Don’t hate them.
They were your caretakers,
and they did the best that they could
for you.
They really thought they were loving you
all the time that you were dying.
Don’t hold it against them,
now that you are free.
Stop looking over your shoulder.
Look ahead to me,
and to the vision that we share,
the vision that is our meeting place
in eternity.
Pray for them,
and be grateful for what they gave;
but never dream of betraying me
just to make them happy.
No, leave their happiness
in a higher place,
for that is the only way
they will ever be driven to climb the mountain back to me."
And God said:
"Come, let us go
into the heart of your life,
my son,
the shadow has been broken,
and real living has begun!"
I saw my temple,
and then I saw it fall.
"The human heart
is the place."
I saw my holy land
on fire.
"The human heart
is the place."
I saw my sacred building
all in flames.
"The human heart
is the place."
I saw my sacred building
bleeding with smoke.
"The human heart
is the place."
Like the tower in the tarot card,
I saw the center of my sacred world
turned into an inferno,
I saw the king leaping out
and the crown falling off his head.
"The human heart
is the place."
And now where it stood -
my friend and comfort,
my giant healer
who rose above my daily pain
with the memory
that there is more -
there is only a sad hole,
filled with tears
that did not even have time
to be cried.
"The human heart
is the place."
My sacred center,
known only to myself,
for the secret that passed
between us,
you are gone!
You have left me here
to face them,
all alone!
"The human heart
is the place."
O great friend,
how I depended on you
every gray morning,
every sad, dark night!
But now
your friendship has been replaced
by a lesson
that reaches to the root of
Faith.
"The human heart
is the place."
For so long
you mesmerized me from beyond,
I did not know
that you had already
come inside me.
Thanks to you,
I know today.
"The human heart
is the place."
By falling,
you showed me
what cannot fall.
"The human heart
is the place."
You were my temple,
the center of my fate.
You raised me up
from weakness,
then gave me to myself,
by dying.
"Mourn me not,"
you said,
as I wept on the edge of
everything I had loved,
looking down into the hole
where you made me great.
"Carry on.
You’ve finally found
the right direction to face
when you pray.
The human heart
is the place."
Where Everyone Has A Fighting Chance
Oh, he was born in a log cabin.
Oh, he started with a penny.
Oh, he climbed the ladder
right out of Hell.
Honestly speaking,
if you had thrown me, as a child,
into the darkest hole
of Calcutta,
into the most invisible and hungry slum,
into one of those deadly favelas
or shanty towns,
or started me off as a gamin,
or one of the nin~os de la alcantarilla,
or a garbage dump scavenger,
you would not be reading this poem right now
or anything like it.
I’m sure I would already be dead,
though maybe, after the most heroic effort,
I would still be around, somewhere,
a shadow man,
sleeping under the same sky as you,
with all my pain and desperation
never entering your mind.
(Even if you thought about
"us", you
never would have found "me"
among "us".)
Why pretend?
I couldn’t have
fought my way out of there
in a million years.
Does that make me weak?
Weak enough to know
that something has to be done.
Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night,
almost in a panic,
with this dreadful feeling that
someone just like me,
someone full of life and
poems and dreams,
is trapped there:
like the light that can’t get out
of a black hole.
Like the voice that can’t escape from a
deaf-mute
whose beautiful face
and gestures, like music,
are trying to get my attention
from the other side of the world
(which is so much closer than we think).
At times, I feel like a killer
just by being alive.
But why hate myself
because I wasn’t born
where the
bomb fell?
Do I need to make myself
even weaker?
Of course, I love all those rags-to-riches stories,
as much as the next guy:
up until the part where the hero
forgets about
where he came from,
except to use it to
turn himself into a legend.
Up until the part where the rich man says,
"He did it,
so all the rest of them can, too!"
Praise be to all those who got out.
I know I’ll never match their glory.
I know I’ll never be that tough.
I know if I had been born where they were,
I would never have gotten out.
Which is why I have to make my hand bigger,
as big as all of our hands put together,
to reach down there,
and pull as many of
my brothers and sisters as I can,
back to the place
where everybody has a fighting chance.
Don’t you see?
It’s more than nobility.
I’m down there, somewhere,
and so are you!
Give your love
to the fallen branch.
Give your love
to its deep green leaves
that don’t know
how to stop,
even when there’s no reason to keep on
being green.
Give your love
to the fallen branch
lying at the foot
of the tree.
It hasn’t understood, yet,
that it won’t be going back.
Give your love
to the fallen branch.
Don’t you know
who it is?
There’s no wall
you can build high enough
to keep out
all the problems
of the world.
Somehow,
what’s inside and outside
have to be connected.
How?
Here’s a hint God whispered
into my ear:
Love can
dilute any poison
to the point
where you can drink it,
just like water.
There’s always a way
past a wall -
under it
or over it,
through it with a battering ram,
or with a sack of gold
in the night
that will open up the door.
The answer’s not the wall.
And here’s something more
that God said to me:
Water at different levels
always creates
the danger of a flood.
A stone on the top of a mountain
is always in danger of
falling down.
Its height is the birthplace
of its fall,
and its fall
is the birthplace
of the landslide.
True greatness
does not arouse envy,
it only makes brothers.
There’s no wall
you can build high enough
to keep out
all the problems
of the world.
The only safety comes
from not needing a wall.
Maybe it’s the thought
that made the wall
that’s the problem.
Rising and falling
is the way we travel:
like the piston
going up and down
that moves the wheel.
When something beautiful
begins to lose its energy
it’s renewed
by being destroyed.
Then all the longing, and the regret
of losing it,
rush in
to give it new force.
Instead of being taken for granted,
suddenly it’s the vacuum all the air runs to.
Sometimes, catastrophe
is only a form of CPR.
In this way
destruction
empowers
what is destroyed
and becomes the engine
of life.
Death is the secret
of resurrection.
Of course,
it’s a bumpy ride.
Tears
are not the kindest
fuel.
But this is the way
we human beings
have traveled
since the beginning of time.
Loving things; letting love fall asleep;
losing things;
then waking up to love again.
Building things,
tearing them down,
building them up again.
Taking a step,
falling,
getting up,
taking another step.
It hurts,
this way of traveling.
But the one consolation
it brings to me,
in these darkest of times,
is the knowledge
that if we are down today,
maybe it’s
only a sign
that we are about
to get back up.
On A Woman Dressed In Black, By A Heart Dressed In Black
Please God:
Let me be free,
let me out of the door
of the gray room.
Let me feel the sun
on my face.
Let me
walk wherever I want,
and speak to strangers.
Let me be myself.
Let me hear words
coming out of my mouth
that make people blossom.
I want to be surrounded by
their beauty,
and to be a part of it.
Please God, let me out of the shadows
and the silence,
let me take off this dark shade
that hides my light.
Let my hand be
healed
enough to give
what is in my heart,
help me to cross over this
pointless chasm
between my inner
and outer selves.
Please God, let me be free, just like the sea,
that flows
until the lands stops it,
without ever
stopping itself.
Today
I wanted to speak to her,
the woman dressed in black.
But my heart
was also dressed in black,
and I passed by her,
just leaving her
to drown
in her terrible sensitivity.
I could
not come out
of our common sorrow,
to touch her
with who I am,
which is her own heart
trying to reach her.
Returning home,
I lit a candle for her.
But that only reminded me
of my sin.
Please, God, help me,
please let me be free!
Let me be free
to hold
the people
I love!
The Water’s Shape, The Water’s Soul
I’ll be who you want me to be
and what you want me to be
as long as I can still be me.
You want me to be thunder,
I’ll dress as thunder.
You want soft rain
that’s like a lullaby on your window,
that’s how I’ll come.
You want to be blown over
by the wind, just tell me.
You want me to be fire
that doesn’t burn,
or a tiger who can go a year
without eating,
for you
I can do it.
You want me to be the surf
destroying a rock
with a million suicides,
or the song of a cricket
that whispers into your soul’s ear
all night long?
You could inspire me
to be either one.
Like water,
I’ll fit into any container you bring,
any need.
I’ll give everything I have
to see you happy,
even for one minute.
Just don’t ask me
to stop being water.
That’s the one
request
I cannot honor,
the one demand
that would turn my generosity
into betrayal,
and end this love,
forever.
Who are you yelling for?
They’re all gone now.
There’s no one left to come.
Your song
will be your only child.
This moment
will be your only
eternity.
You will die
with no heirs
but this lonely heart
passing beneath your tree.
If only I were a cicada!
If only you were a human!
Is it really better
to be invisible
than hated?
When all is said and done,
isn’t it better to be killed
by others
than to be killed by yourself?
Isn’t it better to be exiled
from their town,
than to be exiled from
your own heart?
You did what was right,
which was wrong.
You did what
you were supposed to do,
which left
a giant wound,
like a bullet hole,
in the heart of the universe.
You were logical,
moral,
dutiful,
loyal,
upright
and blameless,
and you made
God cry
because
he was expecting
something more
from you:
real love,
that can’t stay
locked inside of forms;
real love,
that flows to wherever
it is needed,
no matter how unruly
or shocking.
Like a little boy
throwing a stone into a pond,
God threw you
into the world,
hoping to see
a beautiful splash,
and then the life-giving ripples
spreading out
from all the errors
of an untamed heart.
But the waters
you were born to disturb
remained calm,
you perfectly
reflected the social order,
you were so good
that everyone kept right on
sleeping
until life was gone.
You were always so right,
yet always,
so wrong.
The Girl In The Movie (Song Lyrics)
She was in her prime
and I was just a kid
The girl in the movie
didn’t know what she did
All the men went crazy
each one offered her a choice
Back among the shadows
no one saw the little boy
who kept on coming back
into the dark to dream
He watched her like the moon
shining in the sky of the movie screen
And he made a vow back then
though she was out of reach
that he would never give her up
though it was a love that couldn’t be
And the girl in the movie
made me feel alive
each time I came to see her
When I went home I died
And the girl in the movie
was so much better than this world
If I coulda just jumped into the movie screen
and disappeared with her
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
Why can’t I be her age?
Why can’t I be the one she wants?
Why can’t I be with her?
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
Something in her face
looked so gentle and so sweet
But she was also wild
like horses running free
She was the perfect friend
to have right by your side
for any of the adventures
that are supposed to come with life
and I thought about her constantly
as luck just passed me by
sometimes years get in the way of love
I never found out why
And though, today, she can’t be the same
she’s old and gray, I’m sure
I’d gladly give up youth to break
the curse of being born too late for her
And the girl in the movie
made me feel alive
each time I came to see her
When I went home I died
And the girl in the movie
was so much better than this world
If I coulda just jumped in the movie screen
and disappeared with her
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
Why can’t I be her age?
Why can’t I be the one she wants?
Why can’t I be with her?
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
The girl in the movie
I needed her so bad
She was the only thing I had
Why couldn’t we’ve left life behind
and lived in the movie all the time?
And life sucks
sucks
sucks
sucks!
Why couldn’t we live together in the movie screen,
always in the light, in the dark room?
Hand in hand, and surviving it all?
Larger than life, faster than doom?
And the girl in the movie
made me feel alive
each time I came to see her
When I went home I died
And the girl in the movie
was so much better than this world
If I coulda just jumped in the movie screen
and disappeared with her
[Note: This song, written on the 500th anniversary of Columbus’ "discovery" of the New World, may offend some. It’s written from a Native American perspective - read The Journey of Rainsnow, and you’ll know why. Although Columbus had many admirable qualities, and it’s perfectly understandable why many Italian-Americans have chosen him as a cultural icon, he also performed many acts of cruelty during his brilliant career, besides being the one who really set the bloody conquest of the Americas into motion. I would suggest that Italian-Americans look for another culture hero to better represent them, someone such as Galileo or Leonardo da Vinci or Michelangelo or Verdi. Of course, this song does definitely project some anger through its tone. But why not? There’s a lot to be angry about. Though the best approach, of course, would have been to have dragged Columbus into counseling.]
Columbus ain’t no friend of mine
Columbus ain’t no friend of mine
Sail to Krakatoa next time
Columbus sailed across the sea
Columbus sailed across the sea
Columbus, why’re you so bad to me?
1492, he said, "I will come"
1492, he said, "I will come"
Wish he died in 1491
Saint Mary, Nina and Pinto
Saint Mary, Nina and Pinto
Columbus, Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!
All his sailors had a mutiny
All his sailors had a mutiny
Too bad they didn’t dump him in the sea
"Where’s China?" I heard Columbus say
"Where’s China?" I heard Columbus say
Too bad America got in the way
Yeah, too bad, the world wasn’t flat
Yeah, too bad, the world wasn’t flat
Keep going Columbus, don’t worry bout comin back
Columbus landed on the shore
Columbus landed on the shore
That’s when America started to be poor
Columbus put his old flag down
Columbus put his old flag down
Columbus, you sure do get around
He took a necklace from a girl’s throat
He took a ring from a child’s toe
Said - "Is there more of this below?"
Well Columbus was a generous man
Well Columbus was a generous man
Put shovels in all his new friends’ hands
"O no - no gold here, what a sin!
O no - no gold here, what a sin!
Wanna - buy an Indian?"
Columbus - Columbus don’t you cough
Columbus - Columbus don’t you cough
No one’s left to call you boss
Columbus - put away your sword
Columbus - put away your sword
No one’s left to work for you no more
"Bring Africans, bring ‘em here in chains
Bring Africans, bring ‘em here in chains
Let’s start the whole thing up again"
Columbus came to civilize
Columbus came to civilize
Columbus, My! My! My! My! My!
Columbus, up against the car
Columbus, up against the car
Columbus, where is your green card?
Columbus sailed the ocean blue
Columbus sailed the ocean blue
Look out, he might still be in you
[CHORUS]
(Dream cage) Here I come
(Dream cage) I’m your Number One
(Dream cage) Lock me away
(Dream cage) no matter what they say
(Dream cage) Open up for me
(Dream cage) ‘Cause reality
(Dream cage) I can’t stand
(Dream cage) It’s not my land
I had a woman
She left me
But I kept her
in my dreams
Had a job
A good living
"Good-bye Joe"
Don’t feel a thing
[CHORUS]
I saw the star
above the dirt
They drove it away
from the earth
So I climbed
behind my bars
and flew my cage
to the stars
[CHORUS]
I heard the music
of the spheres
Then they
stole my ears
but that music
still plays
inside
the freedom cage
[CHORUS]
Get your life
back together
The president
wrote a letter
But "together" is
colored gray
No one should
have to live this way
[CHORUS]
Yeah, "Just say No"
is what you teach the kids
Why don’t you teach them
how to live?
Yes, Humpty Dumpty
had a fall
His pieces had
the best time of all
[CHORUS]
This is a story
about a man
who though he lived in our times
did not understand
that lies and shame
and craft and greed
open the doors
to what you need
that honor and truth
and compassion and heart
are balls and chains
that don’t work in the dark
So he lived on the edge
refusing to tear
like a vulture at dead
meat for his share
As the crowd swirled around him
he walked like a king
When they passed life around
he didn’t get anything -
He’s the King - King - King of Nothing!
Here is you scepter
Here is your crown
Here is your throne
Are you happy alone?
You made the choice
to follow your dream
In the kingdom of nothing
you are the king
You’re the King - the King - the King of Nothing!
"Nothing" ain’t easy
when the wind passes through
Your bones feel it
I swear that they do
While girls laugh outside
and with other men go
who can give to them
more than a soul
and your dream’s like graffiti
scrawled on a wall
that nobody reads
they just wash it off
And only the street
can hold you now
It’s like a murder
to see you lost in the crowd
And your life is ruined
I hope that you know
So come over here
let me put on your cloak
You’re the King - King - King of Nothing!
Here is your scepter
Here is your crown
Here is your throne
Are you happy alone?
You made the choice
to follow your dream
In the kingdom of nothing
you are the king
You’re the King - King - King of Nothing!