Zen

All That Ever Is

All That Ever Is

By Victor Uriz

The freeway sounds like the ocean, city lights look like stars

The ole moon singing down at me, to sound of a Spanish guitar

Trash dancing in the wind, my words cold clouds of steam

If I told you how I felt, would you say you still know what I mean

Streets dark and damp, puddles where the rain it fell

If I looked you in the eye, would you say you still know me well

Old friend have they gotten to you yet

Compromise yourself

Mayas what you get

What we become, these things we pretend

Careful what you value 

These things become you in the end

All that ever is, ever will be or was, from original sin, to unconditional love

Beneath a crooked smile, I hear a tenor sax sad and low

The nights so lonely, I feel it in the notes he blows

Play it sweet, make it true, Lay it down real sad, brother won’t you make it blue

We can change this world, if we change our minds

Put it down in poem, for the deaf the dumb and for the blind

Old friend, have they gotten to you yet 

Sacrifice yourself, Dharma’s what you get 

What we become, these things we pretend

Careful what you value 

These things become you in the end

All that ever is, ever will be or was, from original sin to unconditional love

Love, the more you give, the more you get

She likes rain at midnight

The sound of wind through the tree’s

A train whistle in the distance

She likes lying in the be next to me

She loves the smell of the ocean

And the sound of breaking waves

We watch the sun go down together

On such a beautiful day

It doesn’t get any better than that

You got my heart baby, I’ve got your back

From sunrise, to sunset

Love, the more you give the more you get

The more you give the more you get

She likes when the leaves change their colors

As the seasons come and go

She picks wildflowers in the spring time

I build her a fire when it snows

Through the years we made a home

All those memories I recall

Through the good times and the bad

Together, we made it through them after all

It doesn’t get any better than that

I got your heart baby, you’ve got your back

From sunrise, to sunset

Love, the more you give the more you get

The more you give the more you get

You Can’t Kill A Man, When He’s Already Dead

Penueta’s a village in a Mexican Valley

Across the river from the Fedrales

Where the rain does not fall and that land it is dry

 And the crops do not grow and the farmers they cry

The Gringos they come with their money and cars

and bargain with peasants while they smoke their cigars

Acedro says someday I’ll swim that big river

And send back the money to my mother and sisters

His father he died when he was still small

The smell of Tequila is all he recalls

When he asked his mother all she said

Is you can’t kill a man when he’s already dead

AAAAAA HHHHH EEEEEEEE

Well, all he took was the shirt on his back

The river was swift and the night it was black

The search lights they turned the land to a stage

Where the actors are strong and the performance is brave

Acedro was caught and put behind bars

The nights they pass slow when you can’t see the stars

Something it broke, deep down inside

The shame he felt he could not hide

When the news found his mother all she said

Is you can’t kill a man when he’s already dead

AAAAAA HHHHH EEEEE

Where No Ones Been

Where No Ones Been

When nothing seems to matter

And no one seems to care

Love leaves no trace

Autumn unfolds, naked and bare

What was it you said

As you turned and looked away

Come with me

Before we fall, and time fades away

Empty rooms

Empty space

No matter where I go

I always feel out of place

I know your scent

I know your skin

I know your touch

In those secret places where no one’s ever been

I swear I can hear your heart

I can taste your breath

If you’d only let me

I’d find you again between this life and death

Wherever you’d go

I’d follow you down

Through darkest of streets

Of the loneliest of deserted towns

Are you broken like me

Black and blue, painted sad

Letting go of all those little things

We could of had 

I know your scent

I know your skin

I know your touch

In secret places where no one’s ever been

Something

She was crying, crying so very hard, and it almost sounded the same as hysterical laughter——It was a sound steeped in deep emotions. Emotions are strange and uncontrollable but never wasted. She had the fading foundation of a woman who in her younger years was pretty, No, not pretty—-She had once been beautiful. She’s my Sad Autumn girl.
Getting older is rough, even more so for a woman. Losing ones attractiveness is a cruel trick of time. There’s no punch line, just laughter and tears——and we all live somewhere between the two?
Kindness is more attractive than beauty 
right there and then
I wanted to change my life
We all want to
We are all
Afraid to live
Afraid to die
some days leave us feeling like forever

Somedays will never be forgotten
somedays show us what we’re made of
It would take all my strength 
To beat back the darkness
When did it get to be so hard
Maybe nothing and no one changes
Or, maybe it’s only me who changes
I don’t really know anyone
Anymore

And no one knows me

I prefer it this way
I wanna figure it out
On my won
I miss everyone
Everything hurts
Nothings easy anymore
How do I carry on
I just want something
Something to hold on too
But something is so hard to find
I’m lost in the wonder of it all
and it makes me cry and laugh
living somewhere between the two

Twilight

Forever forgotten
an empty chair 
at silent dinner table
China ware frail
Showing tiny fractures

Pious Stained window
from the back pew
of a prayer worn church
contrition on aching knee’s 
Quiet sobbing in the dark
 
midnight cars meander
rolling by in the distance
aimless forlorn headlights

The lonely bark of a dog at 3:05 am
The measured ticking of a incessant clock
Flickering starlight 
from Dying stars
forgive-less moon
chasing Blind skies
Waiting on a tardy sun
birth of twilight 
Shadows cast from dim windows
across dark silent bedroom walls

Rain drops against window panes
endless November nights
They say the world spins
But I don’t know
What to believe 

We are given no reasons
Holy books and funny papers
Knowing, that there is, no-knowing
What’s reality, what’s illusion
What’s it matter
we all must walk through the fire
And we do our best
To carry on






Soul Muscles

I wanted to be 
Understood
To be irreplaceable
But even the mightiest of loves
Is adrift between illusion and fantasy

The chasm too wide
The silence too deep

You wanted me to be whole
You wanted me to be confident
You wanted me to be stable
But I’m none of those things
I’m vulnerable, kind, sensitive
And there’s nothing worse then being gentle
In a world stilted on false bravado 

The world rewards 
Angry bitter people

Such people
Wear me out
Drain me
Suffocate me

I’d prefer my solitude

Ya see
To be a poet 
It requires that you have
Muscles in your soul

You told me to grow up
But I said why
The world’s full of fucked up grown ups

The road becomes too long
Time blurs
Love’s a vapor

I let it all go
I let you go
I was being dragged
So, I let it all go


The Phases Of Writing

1. Fame makes great writers drunks and madmen

2. Fame makes good writers self conscious and reclusive

3. Fame makes okay (commercial) writers rich and predicable 

  1. Anonymity makes horrible writers drunks and madmen.

Be advised, being a drunk and a madman does not make you a great 

writer—but sadly, it often comes with the territory, see rule #1 and #4.—

If you don’t find any of this shit helpful, then go live your life and write about what you hear, see and feel, then have a taco—-

Helpful Hint

“Try and make the pretty stuff sound sad and the sad stuff sound pretty—” V Uriz

Feel free to substitute your word of choice in place of the word “pretty”—depending on your mood—