...time flies...
Good news, you are the pilot!
Better news, time is a formed concept.
Epic news, within Pure Consciousness,
The pilot's character melts,
In Its formless eternal...flying!

A fugitivas sombras doy abrazos;
en los sueños se cansa el alma mía;
paso luchando a solas noche y día
con un trasgo que traigo entre mis brazos.
Cuando le quiero más ceñir con lazos,
y viendo mi sudor, se me desvía,
vuelvo con nueva fuerza a mi porfía,
y temas con amor me hacen pedazos.
Voyme a vengar en una imagen vana
que no se aparta de los ojos míos;
búrlame, y de burlarme corre ufana.
Empiézola a seguir, fáltanme bríos;
y como de alcanzarla tengo gana,
hago correr tras ella el llanto en ríos.

Some people call me crazy,
Because I am a little bit lazy.
They cannot see me through, due to their eyes are hazy,
They only see what they feel, as they are somehow unpredictably dozy.

The souvenirs
beckon
nostalgia
I wistfully hark
back
to  the blue mountains
the blue moon
the cinematic
landscape
the coastline
the dense
wilderness
and so on
The obsession
hasn't
been
lost
yet

Memeing of life
the art of the mind-sculptor
pictures and words bring to mind power
image-in-nation to find
utopian timelines
and relevant facts
so we can present eachother
that knowledge that smacks.

The man
who was sitting
alone under the rooftop
with burning cigarette
on the right hand,
feeling beauty,
looking at the night sky,
waiting to see the moonlight,
it was me.

She dances in the Underworld

because it's the only place judging eyes do not see.

Dancing in the dark,

Elegantly twirling and falling back into the arms

of the Great Unknown.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Pale October blue
Brings an optimistic gloom
The dead before the bloom.

The grey before the green
The sleep before the dream
A melancholy scene.

Pale October blue
A peculiar pallid hue
Memories freeze in morning dew

A season for silence to grow
A place for peace to be sowed
A cold that quiets the soul

Pale October blue
Winters youthful engenue
Purgatory rolling slowly through

My cheek is chilled from its kiss
Standing lonely in its foggy mist
When summer comes I find I long for this

Like a love that's gone but deeply missed

One day at a time
Each friendship, possible relationship
Each new addition or subtraction
We may talk everyday or barely at all

I'm just doing me
Not that I know what that is anymore
I'm just trying to find peace
Wether that's alone or with someone

I'm not going to stay in the past
Or **** myself thinking about the future
I'm just going to do me in the present
Good or bad we shall see

Wether someone is out there or no one

I'm just going to take it one day at a time

Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.

Early morning moon
In early morning sky
Golden blush
to welcome the sun
Welcome the day
Say goodbye
to enchanted night.


Shell✨🐚

You must be sleeping now...
I will type quietly so I will not wake you up...
Tonight's poem for you is silent...
As I don't want to disrupt your sleep...
No one will be able to hear it...
Only you can hear it in your dreams...
If when you wake up tomorrow you feel you dreamed of a poem...
I will be happy...
After all...
Hearing about you dreaming of a poem...
Is this poet's dream...

He asked her what it's like living with anxiety.

She smiled sadly, "It's a never-ending pulse-race. Like knowing you don't want to jump off a cliff but not being able to talk yourself down from it.

Your fears take on a nebulous, unidentifiable form that tightens around your throat and incapacitates you.

There is no calm. No peace. Only the edge of a very strained thread."

I woke up from a nightmare
I could not stand to keep
to myself

you were stretched across the couch
coffee going cold on the table
a half finished cigarette
still burning

you wrapped me up
in kind words that
I could not bare
to hear

whispered into my ear
"one day we will go wandering
and this tiny house will overspill
with dreams'

you are not your memories, darling
you are not the bad things
that have been done to you
you are a fierce flame
that warms my heart

forget them, my love
they are nothing
and you, and you
are everything

Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame

Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
Yourself your punching in the face

Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate

Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place

Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate

Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create

Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced

I wonder if I really am kind hearted.
Most people think it’s true,
But maybe I’m just afraid of being mean-
Maybe I’m afraid of being you.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

no one loves me
but they claim they care
if they really did wouldn't they see

i am falling apart
fragile to the touch
yet they keep on pushing me

closer to the edge
and they think i can take more
so they push farther till i'm at the brink

it's like they know i can't swim
but they are going overboard
and they'll be suprised when i sink

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running

spectral through the mist

I walk lonely fields

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

You are
Just a little more
Than I understand.
Come down right now
And give me your hand.

I wonder what it’s like
To be loved by someone
Romantically

I see people kiss in movies
And run my fingertips along my lips gently
Wondering what it’s like

I yearn for it
But don’t know how to go about it