Burning the insurgent,
you drown out the mist,
fog and thunder align
to form the masterful gist.....
Parts and crumbs gone with the wind,
far away you see not the glowing sun
but brimstone fires belching smoke,
and cries of pain and agony
They fill the night air,
that cool, cool air,
and they are heard, and they are torn
from the mouths of the Forsworn
Tales of bravery and magic,
Hoards of treasures gathered by the Known,
And yet nobody opens the cage of Tragic,
nobody questions the roots with the black snow....
Intrigue and treachery found as brothers,
yet dissipate evenly as if they were fathers
with a blood feud on their shoulders,
gratings between them, and on top the mighty Boulders
Afford to be neutral, and be drowned,
be pushed
be thrown
be slain,
it matters not,
what does, is......
Push, do not be pushed,
and you shall prevail,
redemption will not be your shield,
in this pit of darkness.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 8:59 AM UTC
I mind that time doesn’t flow how I want it to,
that the currents don’t intersect here.
I’m sticking to a favourite path or two,
holding them very dear.
But elsewhere, the forks split and diverge,
split over themselves
but elsewhere,
Going in circles, forking paths, seemingly straying...
I think I’m looking at the wrong course.
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
I've found myself in this same,
crooked, dark place filled with light;
it's consuming my fright, bringing something else to the fore.
It wasn't "expletives";
that I know for sure.
It wasn't "extremes", though those I favor lately.
***
To find and lose oneself so much,
it creates such chaos you'd think twice
about choosing a path.
The irony is needing to stick to a path of your choosing.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 11:23 AM UTC
And on this night,
When the moon and stars cower behind mutinous clouds,
do we look up and try to grasp,
a patch of clear sky and a rasp
of the howling wind, because
a sliver of sky and a sliver of a full, booming heart
have the same echo in my mind...
It will depart.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 3:58 AM UTC
You fell, they got up,
They fell, you laughed
It's the thing that defines you,
makes you, shapes you.
You started disheveled and as a joy
had the tough time and the shallow plays
yet you never gave up
From the smiley faces that convey more sadness
Than a theatre full of tears
There is still that lingering feeling, a mess
of feelings that takes away the smears
And it gets you up again,
Resolute.
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 4:39 AM UTC
Still I live,
And yet it seems as if I've died,
as if I suffered such wounds
I wouldn't have survived.
There should have been an onslaught,
and yet my excuse would be futile still,
because the thought of inadequacy burns in me,
and will consume me until...
Until I grasp and grapple with the truth,
that I've sheltered myself and looked away.
Nobody can yell enough, or punish me so hard,
that it could move something in me or hold sway.
It's my journey, and my deeds that haven't been done.
I could have run...
but then the troubles would pile up,
and I'd be chased by their ever increasing sum.
Until the day we die,
We must fly,
Over the clouds, to the heavens and above.
We must search and yearn, taste, try and learn.
So that when we look back,
our mistakes and follies don't burn.
Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 8:51 AM UTC
An ocean vast, a sky that's blue,
rays of light illuminating you.
I would sit at the rock and drink you in,
one feature at a time.
I am not a mime,
so I give up from the start,
trying to figure out and say...
I'll just be still and lay,
watching you.
Your face, your skin, your freckles three...
Boy that was something to see.
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 9:12 AM UTC