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Saturday, November 5, 2005
Translucent Dreams
by Mark Maxey
Amid the haze and fog is an invisible line
Where reality and dreams embrace within ecstasies
Giving birth to illusions
Within the drop of tears
Sealed with heartfelt emotions
Dreams become a lustful desire
Rejected over and over
I still find I dance with illusions
As if I believe dreams could come true
The touch of the warm kiss
From the sirens of dreams
I feel my heart stop
As if I want to bed down again
And implant my seed in hope
That a dream will be born
A distant star could be my child
A forthcoming miracle
Heralding my dream
Again tonight I lay awake
Secretly wishing for tantalizing charms
11/05/2005
Posted on 11/05/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on http://pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Wash it Away
by Mark Maxey
He stands under the falling water
Head cocked back absorbing it all
In a dark tiled unlit shower
He is washing it away
Emotions swirl down the drain
He imagines the abuse washing away
Going down the drain
And hopefully the memory as well
Swirling memories are strenuously scrubbed
A little boy standing alone
Within a darkened tile shower stall
Hoping the water will cleanse him
the Softened wrinkled young skin is wet
his short outstretched hands await the water
as if his naked body is an offering
His young back is arched to absorb
All the water he can cling to
Tuft of short brown hair is matted
Dripping water going down towards the drain
Mixed with salty tears of shame
He whispers his prayer
“wash it away, wash it away, wash it away”
10/20/2005
Posted on 10/20/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on Pathetic http://pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
you know....recently I came to ever realize even more deeply that those that call themselves Christians do things they think will please the HIGHER never seen god....when in fact their actions only distance the gulf of humankind from others.....so no one wins in those situation.
As a good friend JR said in a poem once...."Jesus...well his followers and I don't see eye to eye"
Why in gods name do these so called christians feel they must do what they think will please a god they really don't even know...and the end results only makes humans feel less than accepted?
Which in my reading Jesus came to heal that bridge of separation....but it seems his followers only wants to collapse the bridge before it is extended by God....
weird.....and you wonder why I don't call my self a christian
go figure
Tuesday, October 4, 2005
Winter Shades
by Mark Maxey
Upon the ground laid the fallen leaves
Once shared by many now lay alone
Laugher and joy were once received
Listen carefully and you can hear the wind moan
The tree was the life line for the ancestors
Each branch grew with another new arrival
Sharing in the growth surge
Based upon the truth of the bible
Today the ground is barren
Only leaves remain and may soon be blown away
Under this tree dreams were made
Hopes were prayed over
First crushes were dreamed about
And even our family dog was buried there
Daydreams floated away under those branches
Today when I return it is barren
Limbs are withered and leaves are falling
As if the one who gave is no longer caring
Saddened by the leaves…no tree ever lasts forever
Upon the ground laid the fallen leaves
Listen carefully and you can hear the wind moan
10/04/2005
Posted on 10/04/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on http://pathetic.org
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Summer is coming to a close and the most favorite part of my year begins. Fall/Winter. This is the time for me to reflect....grow...plan...and emerge in the spring with a new passion and direction.
This year brought about many new changes in my life. I got back into the music business full force. What begun as a lark for a friend to help him learn his path...turned into a life time dream and of course my passion in life. I feel "born again" in so many ways. New friends...new sounds....great opportunities.
What is awesome is the words of praise I get from my clients and friends in the business. It's nice to know how my effort helps others realize their dreams in art/music/creation.
While others may think I have gone astray...when actually I've been doing what I was created to do....and was originally my passion as a child.
Well...Fall come unto me with your force and mold me with my new direction for Spring.....
Twilight's Bliss
by Mark Maxey
Tonight I sit under the stars and moon
Wondering if I will ever see you return
No twisted thoughts or curiosity
Just simple thoughts of mystery
Once you were in the midst
Between cultures lost
It seemed you were in an abyss
One simple move was all it cost
And now all I have are memories
Miles away among the trees
I ponder if you miss the bliss
Or are they golden leaves
Among simple lists
Tonight I sit under the stars and moon
Wondering if I will ever see you return
09/25/2005
Posted on 09/25/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
As posted on http://pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Monday, August 22, 2005
12:49AM
Buffalo Soldiers
by Mark Maxey
The dichotomy strangles reason
Upon walls memorialized marble has etched words
Honoring those killed by Indians
Around the corner is the bronze statue
Reverence paid to bronze colored soldiers
Denied rights by their country
But able enough to slaughter
Other bronzed skinned natives
Upon both sides my family legacy lies
Both sides fought for their children
Both sides lost…both sides I shall always stand
In a sacred dwelling 127 years old
A new beginning is started
Upon ground my family’s history is planted
A blocks away my families name is eulogized
But upon the chapel walls
My other family names are not mentioned
Just their race
In the quiet wooded park
Where water stands still
An observer of history it is
But never can it wash away
The sins
A butterfly flaps it wings
To fly away to its freedom
How I wish I could be that butterfly
Wrapped around so many colors
Yet free to live as it is
08/21/2005
Author's Note: this poem was written while attending my step-brothers wedding held at Ft. Leavenworth Army Post. My families name is enshrined with it's name as a barracks....upon the chapel walls are memorials to those killed by "indians" who also are part of families past. It was weird to be honored with a barracks name....but also sad that others are memorialized upon the chapel walls as being killed by my other families side Native American ancestory. Yet upon this base is a monument to the Buffalo Soldiers who fought bravely for their country....all the while this country has denied the black man's existence far to long....it was surreal in some ways.....so surreal I had to write... I hope I have captured that. http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a264/m-squared/Wedding%204/MVC-017F.jpg
Posted on 08/21/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
Monday, July 18, 2005
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Sun Sets
by Mark Maxey
Twilights glow is an ember that burns slowly
just as your words burn in my ears
that you wanted nothing to do with me
my history you had a problem with
yet changes happened and you were blind to them
and you let the sun go down
on twenty years of history
how sad that the beauty of twilight
can be banished because of your lack of compassion
06/12/2005
Posted on 06/12/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted at http://www.pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Monday, June 6, 2005
Tapestry
by Mark Maxey
warm fall day and the bus just dropped me off
wet fur shrugs from the German shepherds
and I find myself running up the driveway
the air had crispness and I could smell the cookies baking
and on the floor is the Carole King Tapestry album
I put it on the turnstile and listen to the tunes
my brother introduced me to
thoughts flood my mind as I think of my friends
the Friday night football games
the winter basketball games
and the spring baseball games
I just had to smile
Life seemed so much easier on those country roads
that I grew up on
dirt roads, gourd dippers for the fresh well water
my old banana seat bike my grandfather won
from OTASCO
given to me to do my daredevil stunts upon
Halloween smells in my great grandmother’s kitchen
as the stove heats up the syrup
for the popcorn balls that I hide away to eat later
food coloring splashes across the table
as me mix the colors up for them balls
late night wind blows through my brothers and my open window
you can hear the coyote call out
and the crickets sing all night long
as I rest upon the corduroy ribbed bed covers
waiting till morn when I would eat a hearty breakfast
and wait for the bus with my sister and brother
and off to school I would go
waiting and anticipating till I could get home
and put on another album and drift away with the music
life was so much simpler back then
when all I had was music
dogs
playing
sports and a few fights
06/06/2005
Posted on 06/06/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
As posted at: http://www.pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Sunday, June 5, 2005
Jesus where did you go
Once I called your name
When I felt within my heart emptiness
I could not explain
And your presence seem to fill a void
But when my parents fought
And us kids were the brunt of those episodes
I cried myself to sleep calling out your name
To rescues me from that hell
And each time I woke up within that same scene
When puberty hit and I felt my life come fresh
I walked down a path your followers forsook
And their comments and explanations
Only distanced me more from calling upon your name
In school when others seemed to follow within the box
I naturally operated outside the box
Being the artist I was I felt confinement was not for me
And all the while I felt close to you
Your chosen frozen said you would never hear my cries
And at times it seemed they were right
I tried so hard to conform and be like the rest
But I was created by you to be different
Yet they seemed to not be aware of this fact
And still it seemed you were not in
When I picked up the phone and called
Tho within the love my grandmother gave me
I felt you through her
I sensed you through the words and music of many
And even masked within the plots of many plays
Even inside my own artistic expressions
It seemed your voice could be heard
As I have reached an older age
And it seems the days grow shorter for me here on this earth
I have come to know you have changed your name through out the ages
You may be called different names, or even go by names we have yet to learn
It was not you who were silent
It was only our misguided thoughts
That kept the interpretations from being heard
06/05/2005
Posted on 06/05/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
As posted at http://www.pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Shallow Dreams Escape Reason
by Mark Maxey
not sure of his role
nor if he has a part
life seems to escape his grasp
but his dreams are alive
occasional side-tracks disorient him
or even cause minute disturbances
likely companions come and go like the wind
but in good time it seems like the puzzle is done
another opportunity this time obtainable
he reaches past his insecurities
and pulls out his skills
that were buried long ago
he feels no one understands his depth ness
others think he is shallow
and even then a tear falls silently
within the pool of his reflection
for him his dreams are his life
they exist in two different planes of existence
but it seems no one else is tuned to those frequencies
alone…alone….all alone
with his dreams
06/05/2005
Posted on 06/05/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
As posted at http://www.pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Sunday Night Thoughts
by Mark Maxey
unearthly recollections addle the mind
coerced delusions dance infinitely inside a loop
static waves filter out reality
reinventing matter one molecule at a time
memories exist as a movie
written by a writer no longer here
tho the scenes are a muse of my life
images deny present conceptions
questions endure with no answers
twisted mazes lead somewhere
I think I may know the landing
but today it is a blur
tomorrow may bring crispness
however I am yet ripe
how much longer must this go on
until answers point towards solutions
or is my rational mind something amiss
that should be forsaken
as the wind?
06/05/2005
Posted on 06/05/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
As posted at http://www.pathetic.org/library.php?i_memberid=5817
Monday, May 23, 2005
Piano Man
by Mark Maxey
Play your song piano man
Upon the pages you write your sonatas
All the while no one knows your name
Stuck inside the padded walls
Psychosis exchange amid the run
Everyone tries to call you name out loud
In silence you keep the secret
Entwined within your tight gripped cerebrum
Normal activity day by day
While others go about their own deeds
While you lay in wait for a curtain call
That may never come your way
Funny how our dull drum life comes to an end
When talk of you hits the companies’ water cooler
Everyone is posting it on the web of course
All saying they have offers to lend
To you it’s all you got
But to us it’s only a few days worth
Sad to think that in a few more days
No one will remember your name they sought
Play you song piano man
Upon the pages you write your sonatas
All the while no one knows your name
Stuck inside the padded walls
05/23/2005
Posted on 05/23/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on http://pathetic.org
Bond of Past Mistakes
by Mark Maxey
simple words exchanged in small talk
meant to go deeper than before
no one could even dare mock
what one held back in truth
shared reasons of past mistakes
explanations fell not upon deaf ears
a new beginning is what we make
paved by so many forgotten tears
abandoned and left alone
a sharp knife is all I have
my offered blood is meant to atone
from a world all gone mad
shared reasons of past mistakes
explanations fell not upon deaf ears
a new beginning is what we make
paved by so many forgotten tears
caged up like an animal left behind
miles count the distance
all for a crossed line
I look up for some assistance
But all I have is time
shared reasons of past mistakes
explanations fell not upon deaf ears
a new beginning is what we make
paved by so many forgotten tears
expected love never returned
spoken by lips yet to be kissed
broken promises never learned
all pain wrapped up in a list
shared reasons of past mistakes
explanations fell not upon deaf ears
a new beginning is what we make
paved by so many forgotten tears
brothers in arms or in pain
we shared so much its not a lie
it’s up to us now to make it sane
or do we simply offer up a final good bye
shared reasons of past mistakes
explanations fell not upon deaf ears
a new beginning is what we make
paved by so many forgotten tears
05/22/2005
Posted on 05/22/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on http://pathetic.org
Sunday, May 8, 2005
Gypsy Waistland
by Mark Maxey
Your tight blue torn jeans glided down the brick wall
Where you stood with your wife beater white against the cumbersome wall
Guitar in hand your eyes squinted out the bright sun
Mr. bob Dylan you said you were
And who would have second guessed
You said you lived in a wal-mart wasteland
Moved back into a hole in the wall from a rat infested shoebox called New York City
Picturesque as it was…artist living the dream of wayfarer bohemians
I was there too…vaguely remembered…as a drug hazed dream
You standing in a waist high overgrown weed field
In some industrial setting
Perfect blue sky background amidst the NYC high-rise skyline
Time stood still with each second the clock turned backwards to my youth
Clouds passed by as a five-o-clock mad rush of traffic
Child like charm in a red hued world
A single kite flew in the air with expressed smiles from a lad
The sky was the limit on imagination
Among the foreign language spoke by gypsy women mixing food
In the cobblestone parkway I called home
Wearing my cordoray pants I liked to touch and rub and feel each ribbed line
Tight black suspenders over my pale white shirt
And a matching fedora my old grandfather gave me before he died playing poker
I heard your voice as I played in the street, sitting on the steps of a hot box apartment
The guitar playing reminded me of my grandfather
Lyrics you sang told a story which took me away from this inner city infestation
I wanted to close my eyes and dream your songs
05/08/2005
Posted on 05/08/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
as posted on http://pathetic.org
Thursday, May 5, 2005
Yesterday's Dream
by Mark Maxey
Caught between the time phase shift
to relive what once was said
because no one ventured past the rift
living now seems to be among the dead
Yesterday’s dream is all around you
Sunshine has hid it’s face from view
Shift it up and mix it down
Never again will today be new
Holding on to what was then
Missing what is now the charm
In your eyes you can see the sin
All the while you imagine the harm
Yesterday’s dream is all around you
Sunshine has hid it’s face from view
Shift it up and mix it down
Never again will today be new
For me it’s not what is in the past
But what we forge with our new thoughts
No one seems to see what could last
Lies all charged and soon to be bought
Yesterday’s dream is all around you
Sunshine has hid it’s face from view
Shift it up and mix it down
Never again will today be new
Listen to the lies and exchange the words
As if they will be bartered for new fangled wares
But what I hold to be true is going to surge
And it’s not in some mystical lair
Yesterday’s dream is all around you
Sunshine has hid it’s face from view
Shift it up and mix it down
Never again will today be new
05/05/2005
Posted on 05/05/2005
Copyright © 2005 Mark Maxey
Thursday, April 28, 2005
Tapestry will be performing as opening act for the Downtown Music Box's concert featuring Red Light Knights (brother and cousin of King of Leon), MOnster Cloud and Somber and Solace. Show is at Bricktown Live and is $8 in advance and $10 at door. Pick tickets up at CD Warehouse downtown OKC, Velvet Monkey Too and Downtown Music Box - 10th and Western.
I am beginning to work as staff with Downtown Music Box as the artist development director. They work with over 50 bands in Oklahoma City. Lots of kewl things are happening in OKC through them....most important is ability and flexibility to use our local poets as opening acts for the bands.
Come out and see Tapestry and have a great night with music at Bricktown LIve...Saturday....April 30th
Other than that working hard at work...free time is nice...rest is happening...but also doing lots of kewl things with music....I feel I am working in a blessed job and opportunities.
Peace
M
Sunday, April 24, 2005
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