Micahs Poetry and Songs

To the left is a list of some of the poems and songs that Micah had written over the years. More can be found in the monthly archives.

He usually left out punctuation so that others could salt and pepper them as they please.
He wrote about the times and events of his life...always from the heart.

Those with the (media) mark mean that you can listen or watch a video.
More may be added to this site as time goes by and as more writings are discovered.

Thank you for visiting!

Here are those with recordings:
Do What You Want To Do - mp3
Hold On - mp3
I'm Lost - mp3
It Doesn't Matter - mp3
Love, Peace, and Happiness
Maybe - mp3
With You - mp3
Sammys Song - video and mp3
The Money King - mp3

Here are the rest:

A
A Face in The Crowd
All Around
All Because of You
Alpha Omega Moo
Always
Another Summer
Anyway


B
Burning Bridges

C
Circles
Cool World Blue World

D
Dear Friend


E
Every One But Mine

F
Fireside
G

H
Here I Go
Here There And Everywhere
How Does It Feel

I
I Cry
I Feel
I'm Burning
I Know
I See Your Face
Is There Something
It's All A Part
I Want To Go Home

J
Jemma
Je Suis Ici
Just as Long

K

L
Love Peace And Happiness

M
Miles of Experience
My Kandinski

N
No Words
Now and Then

O
October Twenty Eight
Ode To My Brother

P

Q

R

S
Separate Lives
Setting Sun
Seven Years of Innocence
Shadows

T
The Games We Played
The Hallway Light
The Love She Never Had
The Meaning of the Poetry
The Playground is Gone
This Love
Truth Be Told

U

V
Values
Veneer

W
Waves


X
Xavier

Y
Yes I love You
You Know Me

Z

Emotional Solstice

Here, ruminating in the familiar darkness of this time of day
when they are sleeping under the same light that shines on us all,
I think of each of them; all of them.
 
The funeral with it's tears that most certainly flowed and those that were buried.
The wedding with it's tears that most certainly flowed around those that were married.
The happiness.  The sadness. The delight and the anger. 
The highs, the lows, and the precarious passages.
The crossed words, forked tongues, and masterfully mixed messages.

It's all so much and I've felt it all as I always have.

No one understands that better than me and yet, here I am -
ruminating in the familiar darkness of this time of day
when they are sleeping under the same light that shines on us all,
I think of each of them; all of them...

Hypocritically Politically Correct

Behind this edifice lies a loneliness
that cannot be denied.
Patience and principles are put on the stand
and ceaselessly are tried.

Pushed from the left
and pulled from the right
a moderate man walks the fence
and tries to keep his mind.

Though he has no enemies
He is the enemy to all.
No matter what he does to do what's right
he is set to take a fall.

With his hands in the air and hands in his pockets
he is told that he is no good.
Disregarded and discounted
he is often misunderstood.

Told not to say what he thinks
and less of what he feels
only HE can be sterotyped
by the mongrels on his heels.

Left alone when not needed
he is told he's obsolete
which sets the stage for past lessons learned
in history to repeat.

I was raised to be respectful and respectable
and to be good in word and deed.
Kind to all around me
and helpful to those in need.

Never have I been hurtful
or held intent to harm.
Yet today I am treated
as if I was raised in a backwoods barn.

So I bite my tongue and close my eyes
and feel resentment start to rise
towards those who often criticize
and demand that I apologize

for being a white guy in his middle age.
They say that I don't belong.
But I will not apologize,
because I've personally done nothing wrong.

And though I don't agree with all they say
I do not counteract
because in the wisdom of all the ages
I know that I'll be back.

Jemma

The shorter days of fall have grown longer here without you
as have the shadows cast upon me.
The waters edge seemed to have a spell cast upon you
and so you ventured there without me.

I hope the cool water soothed you from your day out in the sun
and perhaps numbed the pain that you have been feeling.
I hope that you drifted off as you drifted out
and death has brought you healing.

When I saw you there, so softly drifting in the sunlit waters
my heart sank to their depths
I swam out to you and pulled you in
and held you there and wept.

The waterline has risen
from my weeping and my tears
but you are safe now in my arms
where I've held you all these years.

Two old souls on the shore
One now free to roam.
One left with a broken heart
and future days alone.

The old black dog has come around
but I will not let it stay.
I wish that you were here, just one more time
to chase that hound away.

If there is comfort to be found
when we find our way to death
I hope that you did find it
when you took your final breath.

I hope that your spirit roams the fields
of that farm that you loved so much
I love you Jemma and am proud of you
for all the lives you've touched.

Goodbye my love ~ until we meet again.

Here Today

You're front and center
which is where you should be.
Everyone who knows me knows you
and there is so much love.

I hope that whatever I have given you
before and after is enough
so that you don't have to know the pain and sorrow.
I've tried to create a new beginning and a very different tomorrow - for you.

It has cost me the life that I once knew.  That may be good.
But I feel sorrow that you should have to look upon the bricks and stones of my past.
I have never intended to tell you about the wars, or the stones, or the tainted grapes.
What's important is that you become who you will be, not because of who I was.

I hope that you'll be seen and I hope that you'll be heard.
Honesty and sorry have seemed to be the hardest words.

I was everything to everyone and yet nothing.
I was larger than life, but overshadowed all those years by the clouds
with all their darkness and thunder.
You brought the sun and the blue sky back to life - I knew those things once - and so
I hope that you will forgive me for loving you more than myself.

Am I selfish or selfless?
I don't know.

The Bridge

For some time now I have seen you.
Every morning as I drive in to work
you're sitting there on the guardrail of the bridge
under which I am sure that you live.

Every afternoon as I drive home from work
you're there.  Sometimes I wave to you - and you wave back.
Oftentimes I have thought about stopping to give you something.
But what would I give?

You don't carry the signs begging for money,
yet you show the signs of being in need of it.
Should I simply pack a box of toiletries and food
and drop it by on some certain day?

Money is fluid in my life.
I take it for granted and rarely grant it back. Spending all the while.
If I gave some to you, would you use it more wisely than I?
One who spends the equivalent of a meal on a simple cup of coffee.

We're of different races, backgrounds, and social standing
and social conditioning tells me to steer clear
but I have a heart of compassion
that feels ashamed of my daily indulgences while you go hungry.

Who am I to decide what you should do with what I might give you?
Why should I worry either way?
It is not up to me to decide your fate any more than it is for you to influence mine.
And yet our fates seem intertwined.

What should I do?  How can I help?
Would it make a difference to us
if I crossed the bridge?

The Games We Played

There were shadowy days in my first seven years, but you were there,
and it was sunny then.
The next seven brought many tears, and in three more,
you were back again.

And so for a while we had our days,
where we reveled in the games we played.
I know you now as more than friend.
Who could have known when that would end.

Ten years this week. It seems so fast.
Which goes to show that nothing lasts.
You'll not be back, but it's ok.
I still revel in the games we played.

Fireside

When I am here without the sights or sounds of the days,
all the memories gather around me to keep me company.
Even on the evenings when I wish to be alone,
they stop in for a nice fireside chat.

They remind me about the days gone by and the things that were said and done.
Even though I may wish to forget these things, they make sure to remind me again.
Though I wish sometimes that they would find another place to stay,
I never disregard them and they're never turned away.

They never seem weary from their travels, for they tend to stay up late into the night.
Even when I am trying to sleep, they continue speaking to me and throwing logs onto the fire.
It seems a little rude.
Occasionally, my dreams take note of what my memories have to say.

They come to me the next day asking questions, interrupting my work,
and making me wonder about tomorrow.
Some days I cannot get anything done because of all of the noise.
The memories always gather in the evening to let me know.

I hope that someday we can all sit down together and enjoy the days.
Until then, I will continue searching for the answers.

October Twenty Eight

On October twenty eight,
Nineteen Sixty Nine,
I was born around noon,
in the Scorpio sign.


Since then I have been many places
and I have seen many things.
I have known many people
and the thoughts that they bring.


I have felt every emotion
ever known to man.
I have travelled the spectrum
and now understand.


The pride and the joy,
selfishness and greed,
happiness, anxiety,
sadness and grief.


Bipolar disorder.
Manic, depressed
King of the world
much more and much less.

Lustful and lonesome.
hungry and tired.
Boastful and boresome.
Weary and wired.


Workaholic and lazy
genius and dumb
rich man and poor man
nervous and numb.


I have been all of these things
and I am not ashamed
after thirty eight Octobers
I'm still the same.

A Face in the Crowd

If I could lose my reflection
I might find a new direction
but I've never seen myself
as a face in the crowd.

where the stories are boring
and there's nothing worth knowing
it turns me on to turn it off
or maybe turn them down

I'm pretending to listen
to a point that is missing
and so I've never seen myself
as a face in the crowd.

And the life that I ordered
falls beyond the social borders
where often times I find myself
as a face in the crowd.

Another Summer

What is this hollow? Why is it here?
What are these echos, these memories, these tears?

Twenty years have passed me by
much faster than the ones before.
I was always looking for something
but my blind eye rarely saw the good in anything.

I have loved and I have lost. I have held to hope at any cost.
Circles and cycles and roundabout ways
countless spent hours counting the days

hoping to find
something
of happiness.

Veneer

A man collects his treasures.
Treasures collect their dust.
He worries for his tarnished image
as if it too were golden.

The staff by which he measures
serves also as his crutch
supporting him and his vanity
serving only to embolden.

The arrogance of ignorance
feeds on foolish pride
and impotent importance
of which Solomon foretold.

Man dedicates and decorates with treasures
and desecrates his life
by polishing his image
as if it too were gold.

What does it mean?

softer than a nightglow
stiller than a shadow
I wonder who's in Winslow.
What does it mean?

You said that you were
which now seems absurd
I was unsure
what does that mean?

You're still on that boat
S.S. That's all she wrote
There's a hole in my coat.
What does that mean?

It's been a really long time
since I had my own mind
I'd wallow in some moonshine.
What does that mean?

from fairy tales to pearls
you never let a day go by
and so 'always' forever lies
beyond the stillness of your heart

the chill that I felt
would prove to never melt
we were always with somebody else
what does that mean?

it was not for reason or for rhyme
when I called you out on to the line
and your drama seemed much less sublime
in light of a broken spell.

I wonder if you ever cast a spell.

I wonder if you ever will...

I'm Burning

Winner in 2006 – 2007 League for Innovation Student Literary Competition

A bushel of the finest from the serpent tree,
Will never satisfy my hunger—only feed the fire in me.

My body longs for rest but my mind never tires,
Of tales from the tongues of times or the quest for promethean fire.

Cursed with such a blessing, the truth has set me free.
But wisdom has stolen my patience and knowledge is my disease.

It burns and hurts; this raging fire within.
Indulgence barely snuffs it out and it returns again.

Does everyone think this way or is it only me?
Truth and knowledge bought and sold me into this slavery.

Insatiable appetite, unquenchable thirst,
Incurable addiction, unbreakable curse.

Set me free, let me go.
Give back to me what I used to know.

Your progression of my possession made me change my mind.
Here I am without me and all I left behind.

Arrogance, pride, and pomposity were the order of the day.
I could be a monarch of monstrosity, but my heart is in the way.

There's no one here to help me.
There's no one here to help.
There's no one here.
Help me.

I'm burning.

The Hallway Light

The light came rushing down the hall to tell me of your fate.
Many years passed in this night and the morning could not wait.
The same light in the hallway brought me comfort way back when.
Charged with sweeping out the darkness—now it sweeps it in.
The numbing news affects me, but it cannot be undone.
There's so much sorrow for the circumstance of a final setting sun.
This house of tears that are wept for you is not unlike your own,
Where in the past the hallway light had let other fates be known.
And years from now the hallway light will surely shine again,
To sweep me out to darkness and to sweep me in.

Ode To My Brother

Recognized in 2006 – 2007 League for Innovation Student Literary Competition

Remember when we waited for the news that school was closed because of the snow?
We hoped for it and wished there would be ice on our street.
We wanted to try out that old sled.
We tried to tie it to your bike.

Remember the night we stayed up waiting for the year to change to 1980?
We were excited to see the change of a whole decade.
Together we wished, hoped, and dreamed for better days ahead.
We made hot chocolate that night.

Remember how I used to tag after you and your friends?
I couldn't catch your football or run as fast—even when you were after me.
I was excited to be with you—especially when you weren't after me.
I always wished for more of your time and hoped to catch your football someday.
I wonder if you’ve ever known that.

Remember when we broke the flower pot in the living room?
I told you I couldn't catch your ball and in the midst of our commotion,
It flew right into that flower pot in what seemed to be slow motion.
We hoped momma wouldn't notice when she got home.
I wished you hadn't thrown that.

Remember the cat that came in the open window the night we were watching T.V.?
We brought the dog in to chase it out. Boy, that didn't work!
I’ve not seen a cat climb curtains like that since.
That wasn't what we were hoping for on that day.

Remember when we were sent to our rooms and weren't supposed to talk?
We wrote messages on paper planes and sailed them down the hall to each other.
We hoped we wouldn't get caught.
We were already in trouble anyway.

I remember many things about our wishes, hopes and dreams.
I fly a different sort of plane with fewer hopes it seems.
More decades have changed and the days seem to crawl.
There are no flower pots or curtains and I still can't catch a ball.

I work when it snows and the ice always seems too thin.
I wish that I had more hopes and dreams these days as I did back then.
I hope that someday my wish will come true.
I dream about yesterday. How about you?

Anyway...

When I think of all the love that's come to pass
through my life and didn't stay to last
It makes me wonder why it didn't stay
why it comes and then it slips away
anyway...

So it's said that everybody knows
'Love is blind'...but time will come to show
I've never seen it any other way
when it's come and then it's slipped away
anyway...

Oh my love I didn't realize
You were standing right before my eyes
there's all the words I did or didn't say
first they'd come and then they slipped away
anyway...

Broken hearts are often known to cry
even long after lovers say goodbye
Some say time will take the pain away
when it comes and then it slips away
anyway...

Lucky stars and every morning sun
wished upon in hope to find the one
If love is blind how does it find the way
first it comes and then it slips away
anyway...

Now I know I never really knew
the kind of love I've come to find in you
I wouldn't want it any other way
I hope and wish it never slips away
Anyway.

The Playground is Gone

The playground is gone.
I was there
yesterday
and it's been so long
since I was there
where we played

Oh. Where are you
My old friend?
Where are you?
Oh. I think of you
now and then
Where are you?

I sat where we sat
and I saw you there
all alone
I laughed at our laughs.
and the talks that we shared
walking home.

Oh. Where are you
My old friend?
Where are you?
Oh. I think of you
now and then
Where are you?

I've got a picture of you
and notes that we wrote.
way back when
And I still think of you
as my first crush and hope
my 'girlfriend'.

Oh. Where are you
My old friend?
Where are you?
Oh. I think of you
now and then
Where are you?

Now you're the first thought
when I think of those days.
with starry eyes
And I wonder by chance,
if we'll meet in our ways
again in our lives.

Oh. Where are you
My old friend?
Where are you?
Oh. I think of you
now and then
Where are you?

Now you have your life
and far away
I have my own.
The years have passed by
the place where we played
And the Playground is gone.

Every One But Mine

The worst thing that could happen is what you least expect
to happen to what you most take for granted.
The number of my years reminds me of who I am and what I could have had
but never was and never what I wanted.

Somewhere out there are the pieces of me
washed away by the tide.
And in some small way or faint memory
I am a part of many other lives.

Every one but mine.

Do What You Want To Do

Recorded 1996
Micah Allen and the DaisyPushers

(Listen Hear!)

So you say your life is sad
and that's reality
full of misery

Crying all the time
you want me to pull you through
what am I supposed to do?

Nobody wants to be alone
nobody wants a life gone wrong
nobody wants to play a fool

but its up to you

to do what you want to do.