Voices of reasons, p.1

Voices of Reasons, page 1


Voices of Reasons

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Voices of Reasons
Voices of Reasons

  Published by Robert Deutsch Jr.

  © Copyright 2013

  “The Reign of Clouds”

  Is there a tunnel, and is there a light at its end ?

  Is there such a thing as true love ?

  You’re my best friend.

  I imagined finding you and the light,

  and the two of you appeared on the same night.

  It wasn’t like the movie in my head;

  not exactly like the good book said.

  Tinkering with trinkets... too many

  trap themselves in memories.

  Yes we have fed the clouds in our heads

  but no longer are we guilty

  of truly fooling ourselves

  with something that will never be.

  For the reigning clouds only dampen spirits and eyes.

  Yes, reigning clouds dampen spirits and eyes.

  It wasn’t like the movie in my head;

  not exactly like the good book said.

  Is there a tunnel, and is there a light at its end ?

  Is there such a thing as true love ?

  You’re my best friend.

  I imagined finding you and the light,

  and the two of you appeared on the same night.

  “Loss of One”

  Wallpaper peeling, amber and crimson

  Layers of trust form after the gruesome

  Shades of desire, burning brush strokes

  We lose our script fondly after our spirit chokes

  Phenomenon teaches as the blood boils

  The heart heats up loving as our mind toils

  For it is only when the clear path is lost

  That we discover the meaning of cost


  I listen to the harmony of middle eastern chanting with great clarity and personal admiration. Something from this aural landscape that I have found sends to me many questions, with varied yet universal answers that I uncover from this network, bound like a spider’s web to the corners of my mind.

  Sometime later, they return to my spider web. As if having been under a massive canopy somewhere out of my mind’s view, their sheltered jewels are kept dustless. I shall forget, and yet again remember, these sparkling diamond kisses of rain water that coat my mentality.

  In that truth I find hope, for there is no better assurance in something greater than oneself than the universality of hope, brought to us forever by the constant knowledge of what we find to be true again and again, throughout our lives.

  This is what we know to be wisdom.


  Lavender silence rises from a light breeze

  that comes from skies unknown,

  making sure that the sullen seas

  do once again rise with foam,

  below a body of great importance.

  A jet has a gap between itself and its trail

  marked by a slight clearness.

  My mind does the same, leaving a white tale,

  but no ties to a plan or nearness

  or to me, or any ill romance.

  Some say we are free: you, I, and the jet.

  Some know that we haven’t a home.

  Were an artist or dreamer to come, i can bet

  they would welcome us within this unknown.

  Together, we could begin the slow dance.

  That then we could bid the world ado...

  we’d return to where there was we: me & you.

  “Outside, the Gales”

  I used to stand with a bleeding heart in hand.

  Can’t seem to leave the past alone.

  Pain stays with the present, and I feel like a spider

  Caught in the eye of the storm that I wove.

  Outside of me, the gales warm my skin.

  And death of the moment lies beyond.

  The whirling dervish of the world surrounds,

  But the heart still bleeds with the curse of needs

  And hope flickers out of my reach.

  In my youth I stood for every cause that I could

  As my love of the underdog grew

  But now love of life has become a state of grace.

  Now everything’s neither old nor new.

  I’ll live in my eyes under overcast skies,

  Never pushing or pulling for change.

  Once wisdom becomes a silent shine in my sight,

  I’ll stay, as the universe won’t clear its stage.

  And this solace a silent refrain to sustain.

  “All Hallows Eve”

  As the full moon rises somberly into the star-lit, ebony abyss,

  the world of the queers, the freaks, and the weirdos comes

  back into existence a little stronger than normal, for this is

  the night when we become who we wish to be, who we

  really are inside, and who we never would wish to be.

  All of this comes into being, affected by the mist of rain

  that brings the pavement to shine and sparkle with the

  lights of the evening... affected by the moon, the mother

  of the night gazing after her children of the darkness,

  driven by strange desires... and affected by the midnight

  fog that permeates the breathe of the gods and goddesses

  at this chilled, sacred time. All of the soul’s and spirits

  have risen, for this is All Hallows Eve, blessed as can be.

  “Act of Honoring”

  Lovers fall into

  an abyss of tenderness...

  The world leaves them be.

  “Making Espresso”

  I’m thinking of robust Italian women, dancing around in

  sterilized capsize tap shoes, squashing coffee beans in an

  industrial sized wine barrel, making espresso justa da way

  ya like it ! Now THAT’S culture, and not the dangerous

  kind, cuz the tap shoes are sterilized...

  “Loco-motive in a Dining Car”

  A woman out of direction wanders the hallways of her mind,

  Clinging to a memory of a man better left behind,

  Because he soothes an aching in the heart of her matters,

  Believing that the dream if left alone would shatter.

  A truth of her diamond coal that she keeps in a mine.

  A ticket puncher residing in the halls of train cars.

  Sleeping with dreams, glad of solidarity through Merlot in the bar.

  Of the voyaging home of the rails, exploring landscapes without tests,

  Without claiming any moments, without holding his breathe.

  A true lover of realizing the beauty without knowing any grand design.

  And so, she’s climbing the steps into the massive majesty of his home.

  He reaches for her passport into the worlds she hasn’t known.

  As the two meet eyes, he takes and holds his breathe for the first time,

  And a strange sort of silver brilliantly flashes and catches their surprise.

  In that instant, the two understand that this insanity is right.

  “New Years Eve Blues"

  Was born under a full moon, on NYE Day

  Was born under a full moon, on NYE Day

  It's the end and the beginning, but to me it's all the same

  I ain't no Robert Johnson, but I sure do know his pain

  I ain't no Robert Johnson, but I sure do know his pain

  Angel or Demon, to me it's just the same

  See we all fighting something, and we all have known the rain

  Yeah we all are fighting something, and sure have known the rain

  And one way or the other, stay the hell away from the games

  So if you tell me your
troubles, you know I see no use in blame

  You can tell me your troubles, babe there ain't no use in blame

  I'll show you the calm inside the storm, in the shame-drops of the hurricane

  Oh was born under a full moon, on NYE Day

  Sure was born under a full moon, on NYE Day

  See it's the end and the beginning, but to me it's all the same

  “The Greatest Symposium’s Synopsis”

  I say “raise me up” as the forgotten songs of sirens

  of the days of Odysseus were blessed with wordless wonders.

  I say “hold me dear” just as close as the ancient Grecian’

  decisive nature, knowing truth and beauty as easily and as

  simply as Apollo’s chariot would draw the sun toward its

  ending upon the horizon.

  I say, “believe in me” as the lofty, softly landing Pegasus

  and the horned epitome of strength called Minotaur

  cross the earth freely with all beings mystical and

  contemporaneously missing, or perhaps still here, but

  simply just not seen anymore.

  I am the gods’ and goddesses’ Mt. Olympus...

  the Trinity’s Heaven... Muhammad’s desert...

  Buddha’s unified meditation... Shiva’s nirvana...

  I am their greatest symposium’s synopsis:

  I am a mortal’s first true love.

  And now, both sides of the same coin are

  seen, understood, and taken... as one.

  “Emergency Stopping Only”

  80 mph fast the dotted line we’re dashing past.

  Welcome to South Carolina; locals challenge to find a place fine-a.

  A couple 100 miles to go; what’s my destination ?

  Friends wait ahead; yes, a celebration.

  Change lanes, speed it up, pass him by, change lanes.

  Change lanes, speed it up, pass him by, change lanes.

  Stop at a tavern; knock back a few.

  Tap on the ashtray: it’s coated; I’m blue.

  Emergency stopping only.

  Searching my pockets for small change.

  Quick camera click to remember this house so strange.

  Emergency stopping only.

  I lie in bed at a Holiday Inn, belly swelled from the food within.

  Luke-warm wash cloth on my face draws out the stinging from the base.

  Lying on smooth comforter; cushion under my head,

  obsessing ‘bout a number better left for dead.

  Think back, feel it strong, learn it well, think back.

  Think back, feel it strong, learn it well, think back.

  Mind like a cavern while exploring a few.

  Stalactites & stalagmites, shielded by dew.

  Emergency stopping only.

  Coyote baying in the barren dessert;

  pendulum swaying; we all get hurt.

  Emergency stopping only.

  “Tiger lily”

  Tiger lily nests its stem in a vase of midnight blue.

  What do your observations mean to you ?

  Spring forth across the meadow, you majestic buck,

  and find yourself in heaven, with any luck.

  Tiger lily, rest your head and shed your stormy tears

  spring forth across the dessert, fair sweet fawn, my dear.

  This is for you: the time when you will know.

  This is for you: the time when you will grow.

  A person’s heart may never find its peace,

  until it finds itself a place and way to sleep.

  A way to love itself is needed, and its master as well,

  a way to speak the truth, and sing with the soul to tell.

  For in these truths, we all can find our goal.

  For in these truths, we all will find our whole.

  And yet, it always surprises me just how much

  we all are longing for a gracious touch.

  Remind yourself that it comes to those who deserve it,

  cuz karma never lies or fails in its efforts to reserve it.

  “A Brazen Heart to the Soul”

  Furtive fingers find a place to rest.

  Honey hazel eyes what do you fear ?

  Today is done; your head tortured and messed;

  If you hated James Dean, he would appear.

  I close your faded green Venetian blinds;

  and lay you down on a bed of satin and pine.

  Now close your eyes, and count backward in time

  to iridescent moons, mountains, star shine.

  You find mother in vagabond enunciation.

  You see Jesus in others’ worldly contemplation.

  You find Confucius in affluent nation,

  And you can come home with me tonight.

  If communion’s what you are seeking

  Then ask yourself before havoc’s wreaking.

  Need not feel ashamed if you’re found peeking;

  time exists to heal the part that’s leaking.


  Oh, you gotta talk to me as the priceless ponder their fail-safe ties

  as the darlings turn, shout, snap, and do it again

  as lifeguards signal the danger of a rising tide

  Oh, you gotta talk to me as the sheiks buy and empty out Pandora’s box

  as countless 1,000’s die for Daddy’s oiled approval

  as we wash ourselves clean in steaming waters running

  Stay for awhile, beautiful orca

  Oh, you gotta talk to me as acid snow falls on a burning homeland

  as the gracious hands only give to themselves

  as the ties between it all are unclear and disowned

  Oh , you gotta talk to me as we discover the truths and wish we hadn’t asked

  as a depressed man takes his last dose of gladness

  as tissues are used to soften the blow

  meet my gaze, beautiful orca

  get me laughing, beautiful orca

  take me home, beautiful orca

  lay me down, beautiful orca

  stay for a while, beautiful orca

  “Winter Solstice”

  Peaceful, alabaster touch, falling in the air all around...

  even the cars going by with their tired, muffled soles

  are soothed in their travels. I stand outside, listening

  to the almighty silence.

  “I wonder as I wander” through the yard, taking in a

  bit of tobacco smoke, and dreaming of eternal grace

  at the hands of my loved ones, deserving or

  undeserving as I may be... for tonight, on the winter solstice,

  the full moon rises, kissing the white earth brilliantly,

  tenderly waiting for someone to call out its name,

  in honor of it’s majesty, so that we may dream of

  eternal grace at the hands of our loved ones, deserving

  or undeserving as we may be...

  “Desire and the Weeping Willow”

  Of the many strange things

  That I just don’t see here

  A weeping willow is my favorite

  Emerald tears falling

  In the morning kissed with dew

  I used to see them streaming

  Caught in mid air in the evening

  By swirling winds, like banshees

  The silent wailing

  As the alluring sadness in the siren’s beckoning

  To the wandering sailors longing

  To wreck on some mist laden isle

  A melancholy harmony

  Born by the Odysseys’ gales

  You see… the lady Misery love’s company

  Because of desire to have what she can not

  That is what we should hold in our heads

  Of the many strange things

  That I just don’t see here

  A weeping willow is my favorite

  It reminds me of the desire to love

  And of what a p
ainful death

  Desire can bring

  And that real love given

  Is the only savior

  Thank you for taking the time to read this booklet.

  If you would like to reach me, email me

  at [email protected], or

  leave a comment at


  If you are interested,

  You can buy our debut, “Voices of Reasons”

  at our Reverb Nation page, the

  most complete source for everything

  about our music.

  Reverb Nation:








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