Lyle's Poetry


All Poems have been writen by Lyle Lange.
Click on the title to the right to read.

"Correctness and sensibility"
"All things must pass away"
"Center of what?"
Ergo Sum
The Eternal Bus
Fear of Depths
Glow
Lonely Stirring
Luguwana
Open
To Do
Chief Manufacturer of Twine
Twisting World
Poltergeist
She
Sold
One Long Road
"Rush All Over Me"
Respect
Creator's Masterpiece
A Wonderful Place To Be
Little Bartuska's Entrance into a Cold World
W e l c o m e H o m e
Correctness and sensibility
Adjust your stature
But only sensibility determines which way it is adjusted

All things must pass away
Only to another
Stasis is lost, with no one thing found
In the darkness, I stand alone

Center of what?
All? Only what is outside the center
Then is the center non-inclusive of all?
What then is the center of all?

Ergo Sum

Comprehension is essence
Only without comprehension of essence
Ignorance is formed by new ideas
Essence is not a new idea or new thought
It just is

The Eternal Bus

The bylaws of this bus state that every one has the right to get off
Anarchy has prevented that
We will be on this bus forever
This is our eternal bus

Fear of Depths

Did you know that when you are inside, a building stands before you?
A man in his penthouse atop a huge skyscraper has but one story before him
The janitor tens of stories below must fix the furnace to keep them warm
Before him stands a gigantic building with many stories each of which rests on his shoulders
Did you know that when you are inside, a man stands before you?

Glow

Click, a flame grows glows in the distance
-in the distance, without a thing to glow upon
A once ancient sacred light holds a beacon in the void of space
Out, out from it are streams of black
They weave together to form the tapestry of the sphere about my head
The streams do not heat or glow
Without the focus, the light, my eye has no way to see what should be known to me
My memory fails me
For I know not that the orange flame was not the blue flame some days ago
The flame has met the end of the stick allowed
There now, now it is out
Now it is black

Lonely Stirring

Aloft along a tailless wind
Amidst the birds in air
According to how it is allowed
Anxiety is always around
Although aloft, afraid
Against all odds
Anger is amiss
Aloft and Alone
Alone

Luguwana

See the will to go to the end of the desire to seek counter existence
The problems of the foreseeable time ahead cannot be in the minds of men and their swords
Enter the villain and feel the tug
To fly down the deep shafts called fear, ending pain left behind
Wake in a pool of concealed dreams, keep them in a very safe place
Start a quest, hunger the sense of pain, excel in anguish
Tear thoughts asunder
If the dreams should be uncovered your soul shall take sentence
It shall pay for what you have done
The entering villain departs away to another, he has taken his dead end with him
Man cannot find peace, the only peace is in the end, the very end the villain takes on his journeys
Pray for the villain come

Open

Submit unto the one mind
Full and pushing with fullness of lull
Seeing only what is thought
Higher thoughts completely diminished
Without entering the building leave it
It clears

To Do

To act, act upon this creation
An act of seeming vial action
To make truth vain
I see and decide to not act
To exist is enough
To see the day set and my existence complete

Chief Manufacturer of Twine

Extension of mind
To another increpid man
I drag my face unto his mirror
His body viral, a wretched habitation
I long for my curled up piece of twine
By which to tie my head and reseal my mind to its proper place

Twisting World

Peel away from the obvious
Combine the ramifications of the truth
Construct a house made of mental bricks
Enter therein and enjoy some tea
The clouds become your morning paper
The blood from last night holds your lumps of sugar
Stretch out your arms and break the walls
Many voices roll around you, condemning you
They are all swirling around your hurting head
Take off your arm to end the pain
Choose one voice and listen
Combine the thoughts produced from it
Construct a countryside with rolling grass
Enjoy the company of maidens there
Play until the dawn sets again

Poltergeist

The continual bottle slopping up
Each futile glimmer lasts only a lifetime
Every neck held by its twisting spirals
Each filled by both blood and spirit
Death in betwixt my hand
Should I shelter the child, or children?
Big baby child crying for her bottle
Baby's bottle made of a honey hue
Drink, drink child and reality quickly flashes by
Memories are only a job or money
The children come from outside
They always know when mother has been drinking

She

To see within the eyes of Helen of Troy
Is for my mind to know upon whose eyes I have now looked
For what is hers is now in you
A personification of true grace
It has been said, "No mortal man can look on thee,
And not long for immortality"
A girl to whom to give your soul
A fine maiden of whom I know

Sold

Tami said that, she went insane
But she wasn't, the one to blame
Seems she had, to run away
She never saw, herself that way
But she had to eat, or go away

You can't buy respect, but you can sell it
You don't taste death, but you can smell it
You don't have to be told, your body Sold

They don't know Tami, but that's okay
They just want, to go away
You never knew, you could have nothing
As you keep on killing, and keep on running

Tami found a gun
Tami found a door
Tami isn't nothing, anymore


One Long Road

Hold the magic light
Which shown in days ago
The fear, the joy, the adrenaline
And also the silent.
For as I am, "Quiet in life, Quiet as earth"
You are always the pride that gives life
And as they come, they take us away
And as a million wash by, both great and small
No one sees us
Rush all over me
What you're not to do
Heaven is the place to be
For that I need you

Respect

Cross the line step into the light
I hate us when we have these fights
You are someone someone real
And I forgot to care how you feel
Am I a coward? Am I a real man?
Why do you stick around when I make demands?
Why can't I be the man that you need?
Why does this flower have this bad weed?
You are the one that held on
You are the kind and compassionate one
You make us work when it seems so hard a task
But what makes you do it? I just have to ask
Oh, if I had only seen
Only seen the one
If I weren't so obscene
And done what I've done
Maybe someday you can have the man you need
I pray to God that this lucky man be me

Creator's Masterpiece

God's chisel tore away the stone
To reveal your radiant form
How could any man not stand in awe?
For a flower so beautifully adorned
Do not let your delicate petals fall
Nor another lonely night pass
Let me please spend this day with thee
And let it not be the last

A Wonderful Place To Be

Held up by light like lace
That gathers round your face
And pulses under your skin
Which I would like to be in

Would it be right?
To ruin such a beautiful flower
And destroy such a God-given thing
And erase such a glorious power

Should a boy, a lad really
Tear into a girl, a maiden
And fill that place so heavenly
Filling every place within?

Should a lad against a maiden sin?

But remembering love, this little one halts
And waits for God to call out
For He has created His maiden without fault

Dear maiden from fields swept by winds
Please take this fool of a lad in
And allow him to stay, for an hour, for a day
So that in love there will be an absence of sin


Little Bartuska's Entrance into a Cold World

Babble Fish in ear, I'm ready for the world
Spandex shimmying the only way it knows how
All fit and order

But why has my belt come undone from my books?
And why can't this order have interesting looks?

The answer I suppose is at the end of some musing
Done by a priest who says things that are confusing
Undone by the tides of tireless generosity
With overblown haircuts flung with ferocity

And cavits and openings and places held tight
Make haste for the loosing of open dead light
And channel and chasing and keeping them up
From the top of the bottom and the bottom of the top

There is no ego
Not one such as these
That keeps all their money
Tied up in their trees
As people, they come
And come as you know
It's who you are
And who you are, who you know
A tiny little wretch with sinister plans
Plans turning left of center
Betwixt red rubbing hands


W e l c o m e H o m e

We're going to the bottom of a pit
The pit of despair
When we get to the bottom of the pit
We'll find a trap,
That keeps us there

The lock is all rusty inside and out
So rusty it is stuck
The trap is good at not letting you out
Inside you can't see the lock,
To know your bad luck

Inside it's so very damp and dark
A hard place to be
The glimmer of light quickly turns dark
Your heart takes on the pain,
And loses all its glee

All that's left is the shell of your mind
Pain becomes your solace
The hardness is lost to the hardness of your mind
Enveloped in your new life,
Your new pain is your past