foux cuss

as a butterfly flaps its wings through
every little choice that you choose
it changes every little thing you could do
so many variations as each second passes
alternating dimensions each over as it flashes
    Focus
not on this after
rather, this during
and its presentation of this now
that you had envisioned full of tomorrow
but it will always be today
so start payin your bills to attention
before you get evicted as a tenant of this present
it's time to get conviction
maybe do more than start
and finish
something more than just a wish list
get over this need to receive
maybe you will understand the true meaning of christmas
give me your focus for a moment
and I'll try to show you how to hold it
then fold it, put it in my cap and hit the road
until it's broken down under this mole hill
that kept us from consolin
this thunder storm in my chest
has become all that I know
so I'll try to just go
gently with the windy stars
before the sunshine comes back to make this empty world seem whole
stirring up all these colors to be pulled in by your black holes
that only let out your soul
that rushes to fill in the holes, if you let it
just let go of control, not that you had it
take back what the illusion stole, and put this moment back on a pedestal

quick before this pen gets dull, lets try to pay this endless toll
I've got a ticket stub and an inky rinky pencil
waiting
to steal the show
for payment
across this bridge
but to be saved
does not originate from our little stain upon the universe

if we are but a figment of the imagination of some creator,
this does not inflict any infringements upon this moment
right now, is real
at least I think
and I'm thinking
creating this reality out of lightwaves bouncing back and forth
ebb and flow, chaos within this order, disorder until balance
looking for some middle, equilibrium eventually
every second a second chance, another challenge for this matter
to matter to our patterned splatters of atoms that happen to have imaginations
just an image of some unknown love in my mirror, searching for a name
a noise that only some of us hear as the same
though
names can change
can fade
only this feeling
remains
you can marvel at the portrayals
I'm just gonna be praying
to who?
I'm sure you have a better noise than I