Cain and Hell and Me and You

“This was written a while ago, and in lieu of wanting to post a new blog, I figured I’d toss it up and see what folks thought. I’m actually doing very well these days, so please don’t take this poem as a sign that I’m all upset, though I was quite the upset cookie when it was written. Still, I’d love some feedback, please and thank you.”

Cain and Hell and Me and You

That side you don’t show to most folks, bit my heart in two
Barely second best this time, but five chances overdue
I’m holding up the trashbag with all the memories we’ve accrued
Cain I know, and Hell I know, but tell me who raised you?

I guess it started like anything else, with boredom of the few
But the many overtook you babe, and I slipped out of view
Was anything you’ve ever told me through your crying true?
Cain I know, and Hell I know, but tell me who raised you?

Never lovers, barely friends, and still stuck on the fence
The walls are closing in on all that weird coincidence
I don’t regret it, not a word
And I know I said it, I think you heard
But I can’t be bought or lent or owned
And neither can you, so I’ve been shown
But I thought we had it down to share
Until you pulled that left hook from over there
And my blood is bad at moving on
And letting go of what’s long gone
But you then you and me, your pawn
Been locked together way too long
And now we’re both just wrong — wrong….

I took a breath and set it down, and looked at something new
I broke once and I got lost and I looked like that too
So it’s not so hard to see why you do the things you do
There’s lots of being childish that we never quite outgrew
But the question lingers hard and loud when all the anger’s through
Cain I know and Hell I know, but tell me who raised you?

– Reed, 2005

It Is Not Now What It Has Not Been

Everyone wants the answers, but no one wants to beg.
So they’ve convinced themselves that they can walk on both their crippled legs.
History’s come back around again,
but it is not now what it has not been.

I dreamed the edge of miracles and saw millions standing there.
But most of them got bored and left before they’d had their share.
Things make sense every now and then,
because it is not now what it has not been.

I don’t have to defend my faith — my faith is my defense.
Comprehension has never been required for consequence.
They’re screaming and yelling religion again,
but it is not now what it has not been.

We’re not really that close, we’re both just here.
And we’ll miss what we were when we’re gone, I fear.
It’s sometimes fun — the game we’re in,
but it is not now what it has not been.

You saw me in a different light and gave a second look.
But this new light don’t belong to you and that’s the chance you took.
Besides, I never thought you’d want me in the end,
because i am not now what I have not been.

You’re on my mind a lot and I’m not quite sure how I feel.
The wounds will close up eventually, but that don’t mean I’ll heal.
I imagined you more genuine
but you are not now what you have not been.

You left me here with nothing, and I never spoke up then.
But you treated me quite differently than I did you back when.
Things ain’t changed, though — we’re still friends,
we just aren’t now what we have not been.

So you go your way, and I’ll be on mine.
And maybe we’ll do this again sometime.
But if so, remember before we begin,
it is not now what it has not been.

– Reed, 2005