Wednesday, December 3, 2014

The River


The River

Life is a river
And, you swim in it, always.
It starts as a small quiet pond
made of rain and dead leaves.

The river always moves down
pulled by the earth to the sea.
It never rests.
So, you must always swim.

Coming from the high places, 
the river moves fast as rapids,
or slow through the plains.
But, It never stops completely.
So, you must always swim.

There are rocks in the river
so you must look ahead.
There are dead branches under the waves
so, you must be vigilant and strong.

There are others in the river
flowing with you to the sea.
All enjoy the view
resting through wide valleys.
But, all must keep swimming
for the river keeps moving.

The water is cold, keeping you alert.
The sun is warm, making you happy.
The wind is fresh, tickling your face.
And, the birds’ songs give you hope.

Water is strong and weak
and the river is its story
but, a story without an end
as eventually it flows into the sea,
which is eternal.

So, you must always swim.

Billy Radd
Asheville


Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Stand Against Shame


Live in the light
Dream in the darkness
Believe in the right
And, shut out cold starkness

Revel in blind goodness
Repel all that is bad
Always move forward
And, never act sad

Complete what is broken
Don’t change what is whole
Repeat the unspoken
Climb out of your hole

Be friend to all people
Don’t live in the past
Fly down from the steeple
The die is NOT cast

Stand tall in the wind
With your head in the sky
Open ears to the din
Is the best way to fly

Billy Radd
Asheville


Monday, June 2, 2014

Chasing the Void



When you've been around long enough, you kinda get the idea that you'll never know everything, you'll never experience everything, you'll never see, taste, smell, or feel everything because the concept of "everything" is one big false hope. But, that's OK, because after a while, you forget about that and just go with the flow, try to stay in the grove, and realize that there is no beginning nor end, only "now" (as everything as it gets) and "not now" - The Void (as nothing as it gets). So, chasing "everything" makes as much sense as chasing The Void - it doesn't.

Billy Radd
Asheville

Sunday, May 25, 2014

When Peace?


There is no way to peace; peace is the way."

Mahatma Gandhi, May 8, 1937

Friday, April 25, 2014

Floyd the Cosmic Turtle


Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, he’s on top
Floyd, the Cosmic Turtle, swims a lot
He transmits on all the wave links, receives on only one
Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, he’s on top

Floyd, the Cosmic Turtle, roams The Void
Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, can’t avoid
The prayers of all his faithful, who know he is The One
Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, roams The Void

With flippers always moving, his shell is hard like rock
Floyd knows we all are sinners, he’s keeper of The Clock
You mock him at your peril, he doesn’t need old priests
You’ll never, ever see him swim up lonely darkened streets

Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, he is The One
Floyd the Cosmic Turtle don’t need no gun
His eyes, they are all seeing, his ears, they hear your heart
Floyd the Cosmic Turtle, he’s The One

Billy Radd
Asheville

Friday, February 21, 2014

The Way of Mistakes

Nature makes no mistakes, ever,

for judgement is only the realm of humans.

Animals never go down the wrong path,

for all paths lead somewhere.

Fish never get lost as they swim the waters

as part of the great chain of life.

Trees know their way as they reach for the sun

with their roots seeking water.

The smallest speck and the largest galaxy

unerringly dance in evolving unstable perfection.

Make no mistake about it.

Only humans define good and bad, left and right,

benefit and detriment.

Evil and righteousness are equally meaningless.

Nature moves always, all ways in perfect equity

while we decide to define justice, love and right, 

or prejudice, hate and wrong.

In this way we place ourselves outside nature.

This is our biggest mistake.


Billy Radd
Asheville


Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Seed of Artistry



From where does the inspiration of an artist grow?

Some creative seed planted in the forming brain in a mother’s womb?

Does it ride the first morning light peeping through a nursery window?

Is it in the lonely sound of the cold wind of a passing storm,

or the first rain drop to kiss a newborn’s warm face?

Or,

Does it naturally exist in each person’s mind as a condition of being alive,

but is either allowed to wither from disuse or abuse,

discouraged by the constant neglect of others to recognize its existence

or

encouraged with love, attention, opportunity and conscious nurturing?

Look into the face of an infant.  

Answers lie in the potential of innocence found there

and the eternal opportunity of elders to facilitate emerging art.




Billy Radd
Asheville

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The Moment Critique


Notice the texture, the subtile depth of an edge

the perfect color of the spaces between

where nothing exists

except the potential of an instant

to evolve into what was not

ever before.

Billy Radd
Asheville

Thursday, January 9, 2014

Habitual Ritual



Habitual Ritual

Can’t see too much from the inside,

outside of the music inside my head.

Was I running away from myself only to find

I’m up against, at last, an endless wall of men?

From the day I was born I was told what to think.

Strange, now that I’m older I can see

from the top down that the bottom is a sink

into which everything I do, say, or think disappears.

But, this is next to impossible to hear

when you’ve got nowhere to hide, 

everything to lose

and the end could be looming quite near.

Holy Moley, I can’t get the idea out of my head

that sooner or later, no matter what I think, say, or do,

I’m gonna be really, finally, unequivocally dead.

Oh, the wonder of it all, the wonder of the small.

I can’t remember the beginning, and won’t remember the end.

Life’s not a road that goes anywhere but in a circle.

So, I’m riding all the colors, notes, smells and flavors

like a jockey on a horse finally coming round the bend.

Billy Radd
Asheville