strip away the physical of place,
the where-a bouts of purpose
a naked soul peers into a mirror
reflecting self
within the heart is found a contained fire
the flames roll with sturdy desire
spit, scream,
lies muffle the scene
quick step to serenity
eyelids opened to a worlds window
stark chills lift goose bumps
time is fleeting by while the skin merely heats
the radiance is ignored
inside self's cage it has nowhere to go
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 10:02 AM UTC
on her knees she comes crawling in from a storm
a refuge with heavy baggage
sludge marks her path to shelter
ten thousand ruined, and wrongs
a welcome across the threshold
and interweaving clench for comfort
she stood up for a moment
and her eyes witnessed the uncrossing
unforgiven
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
huffing cases float into the endless abyss
taken away by the heavens
sodden fingers bid adieu
waving off drips of gray fondness
diving into heedless currents
crystallizing with the past
amongst severed mountain heads
rivers of lost marbles roll for rollings toll
smelling of folly, fog dances with trees
only shadows are left to breathe
Jun 26, 2012
Jun 26, 2012 at 8:54 AM UTC
I lie in bed gazing at my bumpy popcorn ceiling
I let my stare settle to follow my fan's revolution
Focusing on one plates trip around its axle
It is without fail and I find in my fan dependability
It deserves its place up there
It knows the right direction and spinning speed
It has no temptations to stop or slow
And rarely does it make a sound
It refuses to fall, to let the pressure win
It does not care its only painted to look like wood
Or that its never dusted clean
It does not complain about how the lights get more attention
Or how central air is more popular
It has purpose on the verge of personality
I lie in bed for my purpose is not so clear
And a personality not so worthy
Yet I am the one with the freedom to choose
Question: But what if my answers
Not to be
This fan seems to have proven a bitter point
It has made a mockery out of my passive glares
I fear its judgements, for it whispers disapproval
I tear myself away from its patronizing winds
And allow my eyes to float and find a mirror
Making sense of looks and location
And the human stare that beams back
Smiles and agrees
Decisively objective in its demeanor
I must admit that my reflection is convincing
But its light is late, and its fancy tricks deceive
Tis a fools mistake to reduce verbs to stale states
Question: To be alive or to live a life
Or choose to gamble with one's talent to lie
I lie; I lie in bed
Jun 17, 2012
Jun 17, 2012 at 12:32 AM UTC
stretching feet forward until they find themselves
following are less traveled feet
instead however nothing this round was found
digging at
in
and around her reflection
with wanting lashes she attempts to ask
and grasps at her flesh for deeper, for more
with clenched toes the early she turns on her heel
not to agree
she points at the statue
stiff and solid is it's state of beauty
and with this fat ugly no she darts shards of doubt
duck
duck
you must know she chose to say goose
sickly skin, an unfavorable face
you are the goose
a mere shadow in the breast of day
she picks apart the young puzzle
parting pieces in her many pockets
she swings the story closed
but through a peep hole a small ear saves
the reflections secret truth
that their sins are shared
and she is only masked,
and she is only mortal
Jun 16, 2012
Jun 16, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
Frequently I find myself covered in soot
Looking down I ***** shackles tied to each foot
Above I see bolts of boring bold steel
Limiting the stretch of what my feelings can feel
Within the private gift we all have been deemed
I am vested in crisscrossed layers uncleaned
Hammering my head are your ticks and your tocks
Recalling my labors for horrid have nots
I must amuse the begotten bejeweled
Robotically remain a chaotic fool
Most of us have been trained to forget
But avail awaits harvest like a reserve in the mess
Special they are that save and revive
Recognize the saviors that make you alive
Ahh…
Safely deep is the desire, a vision of retreat
Infectious is the perfect picture which I have begun to see
Fussing forgone, and put down with glee
I've found the buzz that busies me
That awakens my long since lazy feet
And ends the feast that which my fears eat
The world has given my soul a rhyme
To which I flow and from which I rise
I confused my curse; I'll refuse no more
Its decidedly a gift that has settled my war
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 5:46 AM UTC
left after right
and back over again
towards the horizon but with no end
the grounds shakes but takes me forward
considering not for my wishes won't afford
calmly encountering my chase after the wind
unknowing lover; I will never win
sore sad hands reach for my limbs
and halt my pace, I turn down my chin
stop
slow
go
step
leap
cheat
fall
crawl
curl
cry
sing
try
get up
and start running again
towards the horizon with no end
Jun 2, 2012
Jun 2, 2012 at 4:02 PM UTC
That point where perspective fails
Is a sharp and shameless end
A failure, yes I must confess
For I have preached and I have practiced
And yet I have managed to fester a mess
Acquired a weightless collection of because
While fate heckles with his game of luck
Conducting an explicit scene
That has made a joke out of my childish dream
Finding solace in the irregularity of unearthly absolutes
I will carry my sore knees, drag my swollen knuckles
To rescue the sweet of my laborious fruits
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 9:30 PM UTC
What will I put in my hair
Of all these dresses what should I wear
Strawberry sweet or amber spice
Which one should I spray
Which one will entice
Which color paint should I put on my face
Which kind of lashes will heighten the chase
I will call my sisters to help settle the scene
To debate about how I may sparkle and beam
What if I called to a sister afar
What if she never heard of living up to such par
What if she has seen so many pursuits
What if instead of beautiful she was only just cute
What if she knew of my dress
For it was her mother she tried to confess
What if she asks much more then I've ever
But her questions are real and they make me tremor
What if I can do more then say sorry
For those sisters who are sold as inventory
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
Exposed on the north side I giggle at the stars
With another soul who knows no sense of humor
The night never sleeps and I cannot dream
Maybe, just maybe we will grow in splendor
But dawn breaks day breaking the maybe away
I will leave honest, the stars had no plans for more
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC