Symmetric shapes of forms unchanging,
their wings beat as one to turn-
An angle to encompass the dry sun
of which lights sable days.
But human minds, are no different.
Though each politically independent:
Believing of truths and Free; We
are guided by inhibition and the
need for clarity.
Circling the damp waters, they do not ask,
they tell-The river reflecting that of
an illusory image: It tells none but reveals all.
We cannot fly and though cement cannot reflect:
In our faces, we mirror actions and recollections.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
The heart melts like an ice-cube on a
sunny street,
When her eyes with another
doth meet.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
All black and glowing. The midnight radioactive earth, and all its infectious harmony stands ***** in front of great cheese.
I headed toward the church. Perhaps the 'Papst' was giving a midnight mass, and perhaps the colorful windows drew me in.
It's always ever about the outer facade.
A man smoking his cigarette was only visible because of the light, the ember of his cigarette.
So I turned away, frightened and confused.
I looked back to see his silhouette from a safer corner. I imagined to myself that it was someone familiar.
My imagination fails me. My vision is all too clear, even without the help of the sun.
Can sadness be measured with coffee cups?
I'm a six today.
I made myself into a mirage of what scared others.
Different lures for different folks. Different lights. I was still **** too bright.
Perfection with a 7 is desirable in weak moments.
Learn from pain. Introduce pain as a teacher of the art no one can master.
Pain is a counter-clockwise rewind of measurement.
Two can draw the same picture.
I can do it better; give me moldy cheese and let me smear gray into a ***** sky,
let me give an unforgettable mass, the brightest light alive.
See the dirt in all its blinding glory,
and lose a soundless sight.
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
How lonely infidel
He that passeth I;
in Phlegethon dwells.
Son of the Seas,
seasoned with algae.
Had a plea
about how he happened to be:
"When you threw me to the
depths, into the heart of the open sea,
then a very river encircled me"
Melpomene holds her Mother's dress
while sailing the temptuous tide.
Recalls the sight of hundreds and
hunches over to address.
"Lead by a primitive spirit" she wails
and solemnly stoops to ponder.
Their ship's prow now plunges deep and
through the ripples, Melpomene meets the
seedy yellow iris' of the beast
reflecting the clouds. She squints upwards
and beholds hoofs with Faithful and True.
As the river streams into Tartarus, Mnemosyne's ears
begin to ring with a thousand cries and pleads.
But the whinnies ring out louder to deafen her
while the tail of Leviathan disappears into the blue.
Through the cave and into Lethe, the earthy smell
of the tops remain as the last but dizzy to remember;
of all those who swam lightly past its mist. But to her,
tears to enter the watery abyss:
"Many must have passed through here,
lived long to see,
but not enough to learn--"
But the ship sailed on.
The stream narrows and an opening reveals. They
see melted hail with blood on the only land they recall.
A Tree glowing brightly in front of a black sky; counted many
swords gathered at the foot. Three days they traveled in
their ship, but now their oars were put on land.
Thunder whips and trumpets horn, the fallen fruit
comes ashore.
THEIR voices bellow to ask a question:
"Was it needed for a war?"
An answer, but no pardon:
"Many a pang I have felt, those aches
violently sprung up from the seven lakes,
Is nothing but a genuine mistake.
Those worthy time and day,
Will surely be given a way."
Mother and daughter wiped the tears from their eyes,
while gently lifting them to the skies.
Above them the sun shone on the wet mass,
they see high and colorfully cast:
A reassuring Promise and eternity.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 1:59 AM UTC
How fearful is thy symmetry,
In all thy fragrant splendor
I find delight in your crust.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
I have been shaped, some bruised and molded statue of clay.
To obey and proceed with attentive caution, wary: "Do not stray!";
Have a walk to clear your thoughts through the Rose gardens.
Some purpose: to love, to nurture, to care.
Alas! I have not been adequately made aware,
That my mind's Ghost gives no steps to share.
A bee for a flower and even fish for the sea,
But how to compare with a human like me?
Let my gills breathe in the stream's current--
And let me pollinate the wicked flower.
For I also must learn the ways,
Of today's quick and increasing dismays.
They say, "You must live, so long as you are alive"
"Do not ever yourself of intense feelings deprive!"
But who knows what's better and right,
And whether we were all born Good and White.
Sentiments overexposed and worn-out for some,
For them become quite weary and numb.
A glimmer of hope through a cloud of fear,
Perchance to say, "Ok, I'll give them my ear"
But the frost built up and fresh wood decays,
The mist has grown dark with a deadly-ash haze.
The suns warmth that to my bones brings strength
Leaves me, in Winter alone almost at arms-length.
Sing, and rebel. WE must drink and remind ourselves-
As one task goes by, another awaits.
Time no longer dances around an infants thumb,
Rather whips and rides the very Sun.
The heart bends, salvation is within!
Where is He so that I may not sin?
But have a walk to clear your thoughts through the Rose gardens.
Because nature's beauty does not take off without warning.
Bags packed and set aside through an evening sleep--
Words of a prophet: "As you sow, so shall you reap"
The long and heavy pendulum of those sighs spent,
Cuts deep into the flesh; a spirit to torment.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 10:49 PM UTC
pocketed shelter of grass, bordered with my
legs belongs to your
uninhabited region.
And I lull a song down the street because
I feel your clammy hand in my own and
Press against it because my own affection
for you
is as strong as pain and you must
feel it
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 2:16 AM UTC
When you can't shake the feeling, the feeling shakes you
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
And my blood stirred redgold, and the pit of my stomach shrunk into a seed of derision.
My neurons released from their chamber, an epileptic soul as consequence.
Pores opened like rabid mouths foaming and spitting liquid,
I stand in a sea, and shake my fright.
I dance my worries into a hurricane of lost words,
And transpose rhythm and insecurity by the deadly trampling
Of pillows.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
-and a cloud, dense, dismal, and limitless, does it not hang eternally between thy hopes and heaven?
And even if staring at the stars in the sky at night brought to mind,
Some illuminating, some profound light
To happen upon a wish of shooting, the instant and divine
Of most miracles blooming
There always comes the break of day, and with it in tragedy's way
A walk by the lettuce trees to give chance a say.
Places are living memories, even so as, to keep the dead at bay
A thought: "we're aligned in these coffins cold and gray"
"The air, it does not breathe nor give breath"
"Is this not but a living death?"
I saw the flicker in the eyes of those who know about Eternity's Sunrise.
No earthly sentiment can be given a cost. Said they, the wise.
Oct 11, 2012
Oct 11, 2012 at 1:35 AM UTC