Conflicted

Conflicted

Conflicted…
Standing by a well paved road
And an uncharted mountain
The road is quick and easy, just gotta pay the toll and move the fuck on
Though the toll buys bullets and the road is strewn in waste
Whilst chained souls float by in expendable skeletons
The mount looks like Everest but there’s clean air at the top
And a view to die for…
Everything has a home on the mountain
The birds, the trees, the rocks & the bees
The mountain takes care of itself
While the road just takes care of its wealth
Though the road is much safer it seems.
As the tollkeeper lurks close, outside of the greens
He speaks with all regarding your means
Of which he’s aware, his share
Of your beans
He speaks of his service to the weak and the nervous
Yet he lives in no shack and for good friends he splurges
The ones that keep the road operating
Those that keep lifeblood flowing to your nearby station
And he sits there awaitin’
With infinite patience

So how can I go from the road to the mountain?
For the toll still buys blood that spills like a fountain
again, for this reason, I seek this mountain
For the mountain holds health
Whilst the road does wealth
And only one of these I sigh, applies to the self
So I sat here conflicted, as the whole universe shifted

-Joel Van Dijk

Devil, Devil

By trying to control the flames
I burnt my own house down
Nothing left but my names
It’s just me by myself now
Used to have a place, where she would kiss my face
Now there’s a devil prancing, on the ashes of the waste
The devil had been waiting in the closet the whole time
Now we gotta chat for I have nothing but time

So I say,
“Devil, Devil, you’ve been here locked inside
Now here’s your chance, to come dance by my side
I no longer have a home to comfort me and hide
Will we fly up to heaven, or will I burn by your side?”

Devil, Devil, you’ve been here locked inside
Now here’s your chance, to come walk by my side
I burnt my home down trying to control the flames
We saw the smoke from under the door
Behind which you were contained”

I really want my home back..
If I had it would you roam back?
See, I have this feeling
That this devil that’s been feeding
Has a rhyme or a reason
That’s older than it’s season
This daemon… this heathen…
Show me where, oh where, can I find it!?
Please, I need leading! I need healing!
So I can pull out this fucking root
And pour a new foundation
Build back my home, a wonderous new haven
And hope some day that my Angel will come back…
When I am ready…
Ready for saving

It’s 2009, no time to rewind!

From time to time
From Line to Line
Look back to the future and you might find your rhyme
Or Reason might find you
You might bow at a pew
Keep your head up and your perception anew
it’s 2009 no time to rewind
It’s a full course meal from start to finish
If think you think it’s a race then you best eat yo spinach!
This course is winding
My soul I keep finding
Seeing then blinding
These dollars are binding
it’s 2009 no time to rewind
Like a ramp up to heavens
Synchronicity all day like triple 7′s
Eleven Eleven
I find it in my waking hours
As so do my breathren
Luminous days ahead
I can see them with my eyes closed
See them from the eye on the top of my head
What is the difference between live and dead?
Seems all the same…
Game or no game?
Did I choose my name?
Questions upon questions,
This quest upon my chest
Let my heart beat at rest
Unfold and undress
Be we loved and blessed
Upon the dawn and the crest
Let I be one
‘Fore this course be run
‘Round this Earth
‘Round this Sun
2009 with no time to rewind…
This picture seems bigger than what my eyes can find.

-Joel Van Dijk

“Dollars On Mountain Tops”

I am only One
Not the Many
Nor the Few
Not the Red
Nor the Blue
I can only speak of change
But for me, I can’t change you
Behind the curtain it can’t be certain
Do these marks become a choice?
Do your marks become your voice?
Because my dollars seem to trickle down
From a mountain top that can’t be found
And a flashing screen makes me red, blue or green
Or somewhere in between…
And when he dies in war is it for me?
And when I make my mark it is for he?
Because my dollars seem to trickle down
From a mountain top that can’t be found
Putting faces to blame
In front of this White House of Shame
And I a pawn in this game
Sending these dollars back up the mountain
So that blood may quenched in this endless fountain
But I am still One
And my weapon is truth
With no need for a gun, pen, or a coat
No mark on a sheet can make me
No color on a flag can break me
No Screen can fill me with fear
For in my hopes
The end of these things is drawing near
So watch not the men on the pedestal
But the men who place them there
The dollars on the mountains
That trickle down
And their owners
On screens, will not be found.

-Joel Van Dijk