Birds fly
while tigers dance
to the sound of
dripping rain
All I can do
is write it
and hope it won’t
be tamed.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 10:01 AM UTC
Tonight I disappear
back to the land
of my ancestors
Back to the land
of pyramids
and burial sites
Back to the land
of zealots
and sacred rites
Of hallowed halls
and moonlit nights
Of alabaster,
smooth and white
And as I walk
through corridors
Foreign glyphs
paint walls and floors
A tongue I do not
comprehend
Knowledge I can’t
Understand
. . .
I finally returned...
Only to find
this too is tainted.
Dec 12, 2011
Dec 12, 2011 at 8:56 PM UTC
Seven stone obelisks
Seven stone walls
cover the valley floor
in silver and sapphire
Monoliths
Sentinels
watching and
absorbing
Things live
and things grow
while They stand
unwavering
Every year
the valley floods
and They disappear
beneath the lake
And every year
They emerge
from their slumber;
Their deep thoughts
Dec 8, 2011
Dec 8, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
To think is to breathe
To understand is to feel
I inhale all spirits
and exhale the world.
The stars are made up of
your ears and your eyes
The space in between
is the stuff of your mind.
There is no Heaven
and there is no Hell
There is only what we
create for ourselves.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 2:46 PM UTC
Given the choice
I'd fall from the sky
and shatter the Earth.
If only my voice
could open your eyes,
deliver your birth.
When vict'ry brings pain
what have you gained,
what have you lost?
Does anyone stop
to see what we've got,
to think of the cost?
****** by a tree
seems funny to me,
that we would be spurned.
For wanting to know
why everything grows,
for wanting to learn.
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 1:19 PM UTC
The place I want to go
is a place that I have known
for years.
The Gate is big and white
I am humbled in its sight
but tears flow from my eyes.
I revel in its majesty.
You see it and fall to your knees.
You reach to touch it gracefully
but you remember you forgot the key.
Never free.
You are never free.
But you've reached this hallowed place
beside an ancient lake
of blue.
The midnight's silver sun
still remains the only one
to show you what's inside.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 6:58 PM UTC
The noble Lion
looks at me
with fire in his eyes.
The wisdom in his
face and mane
begins to make me cry.
Because I know I'll
never know
the feelings of a sage.
Because I know I'll
never catch
his beauty with a page.
And if I could I'd
surely free him
from his inky cell
I could not stand to
stop him setting
fire to the world.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 4:05 PM UTC
I'm going to capture it all
bottle it up
and let it be
the ink for my brush strokes.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 12:58 AM UTC
Contemplate the void.
Let it fill you
with nothing.
Heads of needles lead
long silver strands
through your mind.
And how can we live
while many die
silently.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 8:41 PM UTC