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IrieSide Oct 2015
The beauty in your eyes
erupts as volcanos
vomiting oil paints
into moonlit darkness
Be yourself and trust that who you are is sufficient and beautiful, you have beauty to offer the world, and i'd like to see it live. **** the restrictions
IrieSide Oct 2015
She walks with a pretend mission; from meeting to work to play. No creative expression, just a stoney gaze.
Can't place all your life force in the human-rat race
IrieSide Sep 2015
Those who dare to see
that beauty
is not rooted in conformity
IrieSide Jun 2015
A breeze of non-belonging
guiding her sails
to a destination
which has no map

The wood creaks
as the ship ages

middle of the ocean
a broken compass
no hint of salvation

with each new storm
her hope fades
with the worn sail

a hit of rejection
a taste of loss
a continuous reminder

of that old familiar pain

now all she does is watch
trusting that the ocean’s currents
will carry the ship to an island

where life will be waiting
A feeling of non-belonging.
IrieSide Jan 2015
The story has no memory
it just starts here
the eeriest of feelings
caress this peculiar vision

quick head turn
to get the hair out of my face
eyes glance up i see her
over there across the street

our eyes meet

the world begins to disappear
radiant eyes gaze into my soul
as mine reflect the exact energy
back at her

Not a look of lust or flirtation
a divine look, of some unspeakable
spiritual communication  
which goes back thousands of years

Past lives whirl as the universe warps
back to the big bang or conception
endless vast time in preparation
for this moment here

A story that takes place in a millisecond
yet the most profound i’ve told
of an event in the future that hasn’t happened
yet already has

in some distant land
IrieSide Dec 2014
We all want the same thing, some sense of freedom
Like a lioness in the zoo, so confused yet so sure
That there exists some sort of beautiful lion kingdom
beyond the ideas of her mind’s shore
IrieSide Dec 2014
A quaint cabin amidst pines
Gently tucked into the backdrop
Of modestly, snow covered mountains.
Echoes of unprompted elk cry’s bonded together
by the ever-present sound of rolling water

Inaudibly peering through the dirt stained window
Of this serenely placed cabin
Feeling a kiss of tender coolness
As your cheek touches glass

A sight of marbled walls
Which glisten with auras of green
As the sun peeked over the mountain
Floor covered in ruggedly thick black tar
while old pink gum disguised the ceiling

a shaky skeleton walked out of a closet,
as if to come and say hello
The sun tucked itself back behind the mountain
as if it suddenly grew tired of rising

Darkness embraced the scene,
then the shaky skeleton flipped a switch
Which caused colors of reds and greens
To re-embrace the terrain

The once green pines, now strangely red
The once blue sky, now strangely green.
Could this really be?

Grabbing the rusty doorknob
To enter the cabin
Turning it twice
To compensate for friction

Inside

A step into the black tar,
Leaving a shoe behind
As the shaky skeleton
Motions a laugh.
I know where I am
As the gum leisurely rains

I'm in my mind
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