BarelyABard

BarelyABard Apr 2013

That word has lost it's meaning and its use has fallen short.*

The camera lens is cold and feels nothing except mathematical equations, performing actions; much like a part of the world that keeps you and I in chains.
But if I look at it, it looks at you and that is all I want to do right now.
So I can bare the cold for a just a little while, because warmth is waiting in patience

You called me timeless once.
            I had not felt such a heartbeat in so long.
...like drums in the forest...

              I am timeless?
My dusk,
          if you were a clock,
      it would melt into water and seep into the fissures of my heart.

Tomorrow
                  may not arrive but you know my
yesterday
                  and you are my
today.

So take my hand and the universe will be our ballroom.
                                                                The stars can be our audience and the sea can be the orchestra.

If the garden you were plucked from emanates the
musical and breathtaking fragrance
where you tread,
then it is where beauty first was born.

Forgive me but you have captured my attention and I will not use that word.

My lips can show you what waits within those fissures
and my eyes can tell you what words fail to comprehend.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4XZkLmomNgA

BarelyABard Apr 2013

God May Not Be There

If you take a step into the water and sink towards the bottom, never fear.
God may not be there to pull you back up and the world may not notice as water fills your nostrils.
The void wants your soul and no divine presence can be found.

But you have arms.
You have legs.

You can swim and climb your way back to the top.
Be your own savior.

BarelyABard Apr 2013

I Am Not Feeling The Best Today

I imagine a world constantly where people were unable to talk. I think this would sometimes be a better place.
So much anger and hatred would eventually fade into nothing if we would just shut the hell up.
Maybe we would just find another way to spread it though.
Humans have a knock for destroying the things they love most and the most beautiful things I have ever seen have just left me speechless.

BarelyABard Apr 2013

And Yet I Know Why

I write this with the knowledge that I may never see the sun again.
We are the only creatures on this planet who know they will die someday.

...and yet...

We still persist.
Day after day and night after night.
Working and slaving.
Fight after fight.

Sure.
Sometimes there are few of us who have the advantages in society and the benefits of wealth to make life worth living.
""I've been sky diving, rocky mountain climbing.
I hope you get the chance to live like you were dying."

How much do you have in your bank account?
I am cynical.
I know this.
You don't need to tell me that.

But sometimes there are people who, with all of this knowledge, press on and do it for the thrill of the battle.
Some live just because they want to survive.
Some live because they are scared of death.
Some live because they love the feeling of breathing.
Some live because the absence of it confuses them.

Why do I live?

Well.

That is an interesting question.

BarelyABard Apr 2013

Late Night Musings With You

We are architects of universes not yet created.

BarelyABard Apr 2013

A Night In The Life

The stars were whispering
and the fire was snickering.

Now here I am listening to nature just bickering.

I think I might whistle along.

Care to join?

-Joshua

BarelyABard Apr 2013

You Are A Paintbrush

"Look at the way your feet drag the ground. What an idiot."
The voice is more like a knife but knives are just fragile pieces of metal.

Luckily I am in the mood to break stuff.

If I opened the door to my room and found an empty hole, I'd have to smile because I see something new.
Sadness is walking the same streets and never visiting the bookstore on the corner.
That explains why my eyes are sunken and my cynicism is more than just a bad habit.
The escape hatch is already turning though and light is pouring onto the pavement.

The odd thing is...
that is where I ran into her.
Standing in the middle of the street, holding a paintbrush and humming something soft between those lips.
Sometimes the most beautiful things can't see what they are because demons and unkind words have wrapped them in a fun house mirror.

Hmm...
Luckily I am in the mood to break stuff.
If the sun spoke in poems and sang us all to sleep, it still could not compare to the radiance emitting around your soul.

Come on dear, let's smash some glass and paint something new in this world.
The future is an empty canvas.