closed my eyes, quietly in bed
it’s okay if the end comes today:
worn out and broken, wounded
wings tied to this cold mountain
but I’d stolen a smile that seemed
impossible in a long while
tomorrow is inviting
but the journeyman is weak
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
I can’t force the universe to understand me
I won’t throw a tantrum, two or more folks
That refuse to travel with me on this path
There are more than a billion folks ahead
Of this path, waiting to align with a stranger:
Dancing in the same levels of energies
So I won’t force “ this few” to understand me
Neither will I succumb to their negativity
I soldier on, I carry on, on this lonely path
Knowing the sun will shine someday, on this path
I don’t know when but I carry on like the good farmer
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 3:17 PM UTC
get your head out of the blues
get your head out of the blues
swim hard ashore, darling
swim hard ashore, darling
There’s a lighthouse; blinking hope
From the horizon,
Beckoning on you to come home
Speedily
get your head out of the ocean-darkness
the morning shall tear to pieces this hold
just get your head out... swim into hope
you’ll embrace...
Oct 4, 2019
Oct 4, 2019 at 6:41 PM UTC
Bottom falls
Bubble breaks
Lonely streets
On Silent nights
O' Living hope;
Find me, find me
On lonely streets
At silent nights
I'm tired of believing
_________________________________
Copyright 2015
a.g. McDaniels
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
The river journeys on,
to the depths of the seas.
Birds of yonder places and the
reeds, bow their heads, urging
her to pursue her dreams.
The river travels to the seas,
local fishermen stood on her
path, sending their wishes to
the ocean.
Days became months, months
became years, as she listened
attentively like a mother
listens to her kids.
The river journeys on to the
seas, rocks on her path, the
burdens of others on her heart;
Unabatedly running her course,
to kiss the dream.
- A. G. McDaniels
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
Dear soul,
Sorry for all the junk I have fed you with, in all these laboring years, of our pilgrimage.
I want to be a better person; living within the blueprint of my life.
More importantly, I promise to treat you right, by taking the time off, from all that distracts, to be in a sacred moment of communion;
listening tending, nurturing, and planting new seeds of consciousness.
You desire the best out of me - leading me through the path of life and light, discovering all of me. Help me soul divine, to be align with the vast ocean of thy wisdom, and the infinite knowledge within
thy breath.
I seek total wholeness, purpose, true satisfaction, and how to live at peace, with all that is around me. I know the journey is long and rough. With you on the wheel, everything is effortless.
Yours sincerely,
- A. G. McDaniels
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
Like a dispirited spectator watch his
favorite team, in a long losing streak;
He sits quietly, on
the cold wooden floor,
staring at the ceiling,
with a belly full of shame,
guilt, and pain. His mind is
running fast and furious, with
hard core life questions. He is
on hells wheels, with no
destination, in sight.
How do I go from here?
The void of hopelessness.
What went wrong?
Why, why, why me?
A whirlwind of;
Incurable disease,
lack, dark secrets,
death of a love one,
rejection, unpaid bills,
divorce, loneliness, ...
O' the night season, is long
How I yearn for the crisp mornings;
Peace, life, and wholeness
Earthmaker, please bath my heart with
life and free my soul, from the snare
of the fowler.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 9:29 PM UTC
Milk for meat
Hype for hope
Lies for love
Ashes for beauty
And yet we all said "amen"
Puppet master
Thy humble puppets, enthralled
...and we have anointed you;
To tell us ...
What we want to hear
What we want to read
What we want to watch
You have execute thy duties;
Tickling our ears to perfection,
With feathers, dipped in ******
Our souls; numbed
our hearts; tangled in lies.
The parade
The confetti
The Loyalist
An ovation;
To he who sits
lonely, on his throne;
Feeding our emotions,
In your own emptiness.
Sensationalism
Emotional
Temporarily
Seasonal
Hypnotized
Roller coaster ride...
We are dead, like the last generation.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC
I want it smooth
Poetry, rough and smooth
Therefore, play me the
rough melodies, not to
the sensual ear
You soft trumpeter,
keep on playing though
Just get new lungs
Change is good
So play the trombone
Play it hard,
I want it rough
When my heart beats faster
than the speed of light, and
my mind experience,
a forceful mental awakening,
a turnaround, new perspective.
Rough is soothing
Rough is healing
That rough melodica.
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
In the cold
I sit alone
With myself:
Cup in my hands;
Raised it up, to invite
The sun, the moon and
My fathers, for a drink,
A drink, through the milkyway
A pause
A silence
Questions
Bewildering
Freezing cold
Teary eye
Curiosity fades - the silence.
Come drink with me, my fathers
Come drink with me, morning sun
I seek friendship with the past
I seek wisdom with the past
I seek travelling mercies
A cup in my hands
Cold questions in my heart
Future, frozen in silence
Come drink with me, through
The many lights of the constellation,
To a future, of liquid beauty
Come drink with me,
The warnth of the
sages, through this lean path;
Dotted with thorn piercing puzzles.
Bruised feet
Wounded hearts
Pilgrims surrender
The crown has fallen
Servants rule
Come my fathers
Come morning sun
For a drink with your son
Before I succumb to the many voices, in my ears.
Nov 17, 2014
Nov 17, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC