The current of time
Has us scrambling in place
Wandering within the mind
Revealing to us a new face

Truth is written on glass (mirror)
We accept or reject its wisdom
Fear is written in neon light (media)
Ever a focus within a man made prism

There must be a point, in which we all come to a higher even noble understanding. But history may tell us it's not that simple.

Perhaps there is a key
In the waves within this storm
Perhaps people will see
The value of the silence we ignore

In any case
The waves of information
Rise and fall like the sun
In any case
We pave the way of confirmation
Trust me, it's only just begun

But stand steady
And patiently wait for facts rather than quickly believe controversy.

All answers come in due time

Passion grows in weathered storms

Revel in the chaos's
Dwell in the calms
The truth is this
Truth is in your palms (your hands)

Sometimes life is like
Clips and phrases
That pass like social media pages
Page after page
Meaning and meter
measured by demeanor

Propriety means popularity
Irregularity means "troubled"
So I suppose if you oppose one
The others' affect will be doubled

Clips and phrases
Like those social media pages
Each with thier meter and meaning
Oh, how we are all teeming
Grouped up but separated
With our own collections of material
on the shelf.

"Sometimes when that pitcher called Life throws a curve ball you have to adjust your eyes... but always remember to swing in the box"

"When the rain comes down, smile or frown. look up or look around. Witness and listen, embracing every subtle sound"

"Clarity will come
in waves and tides,
Remember, they are rides.
Seas and untamed oceans
Foster facts and emotions
And is the key to acquiring notions"

CORNERSTONE: definition (noun) the chief foundation on which something is constructed or developed

Come with forceful wills
Over the hills and desert bleak
Reach for inner greatness
Not returning, but a smiling cheek
Every trick has its trade
Remember that, and it's usefulness
Stones break over a sharpened edged blade
Towers will fall wayside by forceful winds made
Only desire keeps the flame burning
Is now a time to overcome?
Everything you find yourself yearning?
It is upon Cornerstones... we are made

For every action, there is reaction
for every attraction, there is distraction but every little fraction has a faction in fiction hmm, let me check my diction

Every portion has its distortion
of inbalance and contortion
Tip lipped rhymes served for abortion

Robbery of meaning and motion
is the deliverance of emotion
Accrued in a love potion
..hpm!, such devotion

But if you characterize deflection
you might see a reflection, or a fragment of protection, in a starry eyed selection

This format is causing congestion, a congestion fiddling with digestion
which will lead to exhaustion
but I'm up for suggestion or question

"The state of awareness is just a fragment of the Truth. Chances are, even if we had all the pieces, we'd still have conflict... conflict in acceptance of those truths"

Write about the Sky
                       how it shines
Write about the Ocean
                         and all its tides

Write about Pain
         Write about Belief
Write about Love
         And how It's Received

Write about Friends
          Write about Trends

Write about Healing
           Write about the Feeling

Write about the Cosmo
       Write about Speed
             Write about Trees
                  Write about Greed

Write about Memory and how it serves
Write about Honor and what it deserves

Write it once
              Write it again
                          Save the draft &
                                    label The End

To understand
this solid door
You must come true
and eager for more

There is nothing to be bought
or sold
by bleeding red roses
You are not faulted
or framed
for what the moment imposes

Come to thee
With an open heart in mind
To stand and witness
The reality you've been longing to find

I promise nothing
For if you push the door it will not swing
But if you pull towards your heart
You might be surprised as to what I'll bring


My Everything

Something was revealed
seemingly awoken
granted graciously,
as a sentimental token

Passed and accepted 
within a fragment of space
from spirits unbroken
so truthful was the taste

To exist, in a boundary of existence
in an ancient forgotton glade
where two doth meet eternally
with impressions softly made..

In every inspiration
there's a spire
next to it
rests desire

In every thought
there's a key
behind each door
a place to see

In every emotion
there's a color
once it stains
there is another

In every poem
there's a clue
an unsolved mystery
Involving you

Mathmatical
                                In Meter
                             & Meaning
 
                             Formulated
                              In Context
                            & Reasoning

                              Calculated
                               In Rhyme
                              & Delivery

                               Educated
                            In Hindsight
                              & History

Would speaking perfectly
                  Make everyone listen

Would perfect sense
                 Give us perfect vision

Would looking perfect
                  Make us loved by all

Would that perfect life
                    Be perfect at all


We dont walk on perfect land
Nor breath in perfect air
We dont swim in perfect water
Nor warmed by perfect flare


As perfect as we want things to be
Perfection is still like winter leaves
Resting perfectly under coldness we see
And perfectly on top of what we believe

It Was So

Not until the world grew cold
Did we
Claim the sun and moon as our own

Not until the light was shown
Did we
Take the fight to all the unknown

Do we remember

The countless hours
Upon the grindstone
Making things so difficult
Unable to identify with our dreams.

Could we forget 

The amount of lies
We told ourselves without order,
to keep ourselves wanting more
Under the shelter of our insecurities

Can we see

The beautiful aftermath,
of all the damage we suffered
Molding us into the beings
We once wished we could be

Can we believe

That every opportunity given
Can be seized or freed
Shaping our constitution
Into our "wants" and "needs"

Can we
Could we
Do we

It has been so...

Heart, may very well be full of ink.
Ink to be spilled into open waters, that either constitute or dilute its beat.

Every now and then the ink dries,
and when the ink dries there is a scripture,
that seems to paint a picture. A picture... That causes a scene to be serene like a vision in a dream, colors swarm in cool blue and vivid green. With Eyes overtaken and hardly mistaken, vision becomes such a wonderful thing.… Such a wonderful thing.

Other times Ink spills from heart into mind...
Crossing a plane where obsessions and rejections split apart, dividing into sections to detect intention. Looking from afar will reveal reflection but internal detection is a parabolic lecture, so one can choose where to look and choose when to listen, and frame the picture in part of their vision..

Lay your anxious arms to rest

And fold them firmly upon your chest

Invite your tired legs upon the alter

Do rest, you must! but do not falter

TO claim your stake and keep to the skies

Reign in honesty, fortell! forsake the lies

Ever welcome, in the virus of strife

Salute it well but never twice

The tale of your life will echo tonight

Tittle tattle
ribble and rabble
The conversation goes
the way the conversation went

Fiddle faddle
dibble and daddle
every word emitted
was indeed foretold by the committed

Wrip wrap
snip snap
tip tap
Without an outstretched hand
Who is to let the movements move
like hourglass sand?

As the spring leaves wet

As the summer skies set

As the autumn flora glows

As the winter breeze blows

Capture The Moment

Seize it
Hold it
Own it




Within the seconds  
You exist solely alone
assemble a creation
all for your own

Take part in the Moments
you always wish to Cherish
Abide to it's Serenity
on Throne or in Parish

Remember in strife
The power of These Moments
and
they shall forever be

Not Only a gateway or passage
but
a Place where your Soul
can soar Forever Free

He or She who accepts change
    thier journey Shall Not be affected
                         By Time

        He or She who rejects change
      Their journey Shall Be directed
                         By Fear

A Friend In Respect

As your Guardian
I wield a shield of protection
to guard you from threats until your death

As your Counsel
I scribe your word in promise
to keep you honest behind every breath

As your Advocate
I defend your allegiances in diligence
to strengthen the cause of your pursuit

As a Friend in Respect
I vow to keep my words encased in truth
As a Friend in Respect
I Duirno, expect the same from you

And there she laid
resting so soundly,
afraid she would awaken
to my heartbeat pounding

I studied her for a few
before my fingers ran sleek
through her brown hair
and down her white cheek

She smiled softly
as her voice came to rise
a gleam of light shined
as she opened her eyes

I was in awe
lost in the moment
time had just stopped
I realized I owned it

Her hand came to life
and went over my head
moved down on my neck
and that's when I said

follow me ***
to come see our sun
a new day has birthed
a new chapter begun

So still we sat
as we watched over the hill
So firmly we embraced
as our hearts did fill

My front to her rear
I could just smell her hair
I whispered in her ear
"I've something to share"

She asked me what it was
and why I had returned home
I told her I had a question
that formed an epitome

I have returned to commit
and make you my wife
It's been you all along
The Truest Love Of My Life

Soon she did smile
as the sun rested on her eyes
We held hands in folding
Experiencing our First Sunrise

Stop
Before the rain falls
To wash away your worry

Wait
After the wind blows
That pushes against your breath

Fall
Allow this reckoning wash and push you in a new direction...


Renew
In all that this new moment imposes
so you may reach a higher level

Grow
From the energy you have been granted
so you may embrace this new light within

Breathe
In the newfound form you have uncovered
so you may match the rain and wind

Days


From the days we cherish and the days we let go. Perception is seemingly driven into the fibers of tomorrow.

For the days to let go
After the pain and the sorrow there is something about tomorrow that brings it all to ease. The end of the day and the day to follow offers all the courage one needs to borrow in order to wave a grateful goodbye to yesterday.

For the days we cherish
The emotions that shine through the night bring  flight to dreams it seems. The moments we wish  to cherish forever become a forthright endeavor. For things may not always seem right, one can still hold tight through the night where darkness holds no limits for dreams to take flight.

For the days to come
Fate isn't sealed, answers not always revealed but rest assure the time is always right. Whether it's light or dark, question or remark, the time is right now. We choose how to handle it, we can buy it or sample it. Mark it or stamp it. But for the sake of purpose to close the curtain, tomorrow will be yesterday after the mark of today.

Not always but mostly
  Sincerely yours

Calling Kettles

                  'Come little children
            The night is for you to play
            Thy zeitgeist of tomorrow
                  Is thee spell for today'


                  Kettle Late Brewing
                   Petal Fate Stewing
                      Flora & Fauna
                  We Calling To You


               Harvesters With Scythe

                     Reap, Sow, Rise


                      Glory Of Rule
             Compassionate Or Cruel
                Dionysus and Gordius
                    Be Calling To You

              Choose, Midas, Choose

                  Green Flame Burn
                   For All You Yearn
                    Grab Our Kettle
                 To Test Your Mettle
                 Dire Desire Within
                   We Beseech You
              

              Torture He Adores You
                              In
               Dungeon de' grimace
                (In) Fortitudes Feast
             (We) Replete the Fittest
          (Go) And Challenge Our Rule

                    Fall, Harlot, Fall

                Under The Sun of Rot
                     Thy Within Skin
            Grace Our Markets In Soul
                 Grace Here Is Cheap
                  Fresh Souls To Reap
        
                  Rise, Harvest, Rise

             Thy Blessings Churning
              In Yesterday's Learning
                All Things Crawling
                 Filthy & Squirming
                    In Turning Fruit
           Plucked In Your Yearning
         Our Kettles Be Calling To You
         Our Kettles Be Calling To You'

I never knew of less
Until I went for more
I never knew of peace
Until I left for war

I never knew of death
Until I saw some life
I never knew of refuge
Until I found some strife

                   I never knew
                         Until
               I made things right

I know of love
Because it made me strong
I know of hate
Because it made me wrong

I know of honor
Because I believe in integrity
I know of lies
Because I refuse respectfully

                  I know, because
                         I chose
                      Goodnight

When Darkness Comes Calling
And You're Cold n Alone
Just Strike Your Flint
Across My Heart Of Stone

Once upon a time
I thought the day
         That would serve me best
Would be my day of death
          But since my heart woke up
You have given me, Breath

Within fluttered winks and falling tears
shaking hands grasp on
porcelain for forgiveness

            He or Her
whichever one prefers

Draws towards a shattered mirror.
A Face, Flush and Pale
Sanity, long set for sail
Into the storm. A storm ment to flush not rinse.

A swirl taking with it skin, ***** and blood
They begged to get rid of it
But refused to look back and fix it.

As the narrator said, shaking hands grasp porcelain for forgiveness. Tis be true.

With knuckles black and blue
and complexion changing hue
The sickness of self, hovers above the zenith of reality but stagnant in a hole of the One who has dibs on OBSCURITY.

Repeating to self
"This is the sickest form of past aggressive grieving"

With a thousand mile stare into the shattered mirror, one notices a hundred forms of self. All are gushing from the eyes and spewing from the mouth.
Nostrils nothing more than mangled cartilage. Bashed by the perceptual reflection of a late night monstrosity. Hundred times over, knees begin to buckle. but those shaking hands. Those shaking hands grasp to the porcelain for forgiveness.

Veins exposed
Running nose
Breaking news for the commonwealth..
or shall we say, the "Common Health"


Nobody to help this poor soul
Caged in catatonic infamy, not unlike the wrapping of wrists where fists are broken from being kissed. Kissed by Love and Doom. All cheer for the bride and groom, falling hatred seeping into spilt Will and separated spirit. Shhhhh only evil will hear it.

Psychotic laughter humming within like rising vibration. Chaotic Clutching to consciousness like a tormented soul. Reality based filling... Mouths grimacing at the foul stench left in the sink. A darker side hides, saying Drink Drink...Drink!

but lets make things clear, SHALL WE

There is no mirror!
There is fear in the dumbest (unaware) form,
The Form of Deformity,

a sweet link to robotic  conformity. But after that Death Dance let us all raise a glass! and TOAST, to the brightest buyer in technological advancements! thundering applause to follow, carving the dimwitted completely hollow. The clever and bleak shall wear their skin and do a dance in the creek.  splashing and slashing for the crowd to play hide and seek.


LETS MAKE THINGS CLEAR!!!

Existence is "I"
There are no games
No metaphors
No explanation
No frustration
No trust
No sympathy
No society
No justice
No absolution
No bias
No sacrament
No parliament
No DILITED SPIRIT
No REASONS TO FEAR IT
NO SUBSTANCE OR AFFLICTION
NO VICTIMS OR ADDITIONS
NO PEACE, WAR, OR VENOM


....ah hem....

Allow me to make things clear...

"There Will Be Blood"

In Black Ink
                        
                            Ink
                  Black In Truth
    Awaits To Fulfill A Guided Hand
      Upon The Quill, Resting So Still...

      ...Resting So Still Upon The Quill,
       A Guided hand, Awaits To Fulfill
                          Truth
                     In Black Ink

Poetic Advice

Don't stab yourself
If you don't want to bleed
Don't focus on what you want
If what you want isn't what you need

If you take care of the seeds you planted
Your plants won't be taken for granted

So never plague yourself,
If you don't know how to heal yourself
Don't hate yourself,
If you don't understand
                       what you feel in yourself

When you can't take a stand
And your foundation feels like sand
Reach for the outstretched hand
that is waiting for you to make a plan
It's like inspiration on demand

Your time is your life
To clean the ***** knife
That stabs you and leaves you rusted
And Infects all things once trusted

Treat your wounds
Don't allow them to grow
Don't regret the scars
You reap what you sow


If you are unable to find your place
And unable to recognize your face..
Give a gaze into a mirror
And bring forth all that you fear
Write it on the glass
Then give it a smear
Nothing is too far
if you work to keep it near

Your inner fight
Creates the light
Light that cuts ties
Opening closed eyes

That'll give you a new view
And show you what to do

See the world in the light
Give yourself an open line of sight

Sometimes when you travel you just gotta calm down and smile  
Because you have the ability to give an effort to every mile...

:)

I was blind
but now I see

I was broken
But now I breathe

I was hurt
But now I feel

I was absent
But now I'm real...

A-P.O.E.M.

The starlight starts fading
When Heart are open for grating

Shall we embrace the touch of tomorrow
In the cold feels of today

It hurts to fade
Especially when its from things that are made
Sitting in the shade
Outside the reality of these paradise parades

The shade
Casts a shadow
Casts a doubt
Carves thee hollow
From the inside out

Reflecting the image of the world to see
So happy,
          but dominant,
                           by amounts of greed

Those who plant the seed
Fill the next generation with a developmental make-up that is a touch of their own.
But how much is change accepted?
is it reflected? Or terribly misdirected...

Seemingly so seasoned with grainger and far away from danger, may our weary eyes see the design we mold things to be.

"Don't bury these beliefs
They mean everything to thee
They mean everything to thee"

You're Glass
        Full Of Color
                Unlike Mine
                     Or Any Other

I can rhyme & riddle
Play violin & fiddle

I can write metaphors and paraphrase
Sit in a basement or stand on a stage

I can narrate comtemplations
And describe frustrations

I can sit in the shade and describe what I feel
I can recreate the impossible and make it seem real

I can write stories about feeling distant
And tell tall tales of commitment

I can write In riddles without clues
I can write on all shades of the blues

I can capture the experience of motion
and make time freeze in emotion

I can write to match my mood
I can write them eloquent or crude

But just because I wrote it
doesn't make me a poet  

Poetry...

What is it?

Eh, I'll leave it to someone else.

This is just me

writing on myself

One is for Love
        The other is for Pain

One is Forgiving
        the other is for Blame

One is Happy
         While the other is Troubled

Whatever happens to One
         The affect becomes Doubled
              

One plays the lute
           As the other beats a drum

One enjoys sweetness
          For the other will have none

One enjoys the ocean,
         while the other prefers the coast

One loves to listen
       while the other loves to boast
              


One has faith
         The other has themself

One is an open book
        While the other stays on the shelf


One loves to write
         The other loves to walk

One loves to sing
          As the other loves to talk


This life isn't balanced or even close to stable
When they both reach for the chips on the table

But both share something
that can never be changed or erased
The person standing between them
who knows how to look both ways.

In dying trees I see rebirth
In a loser I see one who can finish first
In places I've never been
I see places I can get to know
Unknown chapters
Is where my optimism wants to go.

Is it too much
To appreciate the unappreciated
To hold the un-held
To replace pain with love  
And succeed with all cards dealt

I hold dear,
to things too small to see
I believe,
in things too strange to conceive

I place my hands around wounds to heal,
I simply feel for those who cannot feel.

I undergo the struggles within every soul
If only it lead them to their biggest goal

I make the rules to use this plan
I just might be an Optimistic Man

Why did you do it?
    "I wanted to be the cause of death"
Why did you change your face?
"Because I chose not to stop and catch my breath"

What was your family life like?
    "Like most or many"
We're you deprived as a child?
   "My family worked for every penny"

How did you abduct your victims?
"I just told them what they wanted to hear"
We're you ever scared of getting caught?
"I am ruled by my thrill not my fear"

Do you believe in God?
"A man with my sins probably shouldn't"
Would you do it all over again?
"I made my decisions, if I could I wouldn't"


The Man then splashes his face with water,
wipes his breath off the mirror and walks out of the public restroom.

Take No Hostages
        When The World Stands
            Against Your Claims


                      Believe In Yourself
                 Eventually The World Will
                       Witness Your Gains

Admittedly,
                 your scent has passed
                            but still,
                  
                   I stop to reminisce
                 and thoughtfully kiss,
                       the lips I miss

Annabel wore white
as she laid under a Willow
She brought her brown basket
and a comfortable red pillow

She laid in the shade,
writing and reminiscing.
Bringing forth a smile
for the one she was missing.

Her days had been growing longer
and she knew wasn't fearless.
Sitting under their Willow
writing to her dearest

She wrote about his charm
She wrote about his smile
She wrote about his laugh
She wrote about his style

She wrote until the Sun turned off the day
She wrote from her heart and all it couldn't say

Annabel finally stood, picked up her basket and started walking home.
Leaving all her notes and poems, upon his gravestone.