Eloquently shattered

after birth intact

hiding in the clear

seeking whats been found

then in the morning again

be reminded of yesterday

With the way that this world speeds... you're all I’ll ever need
To make sure that my heart it can be freed
It’s the way that I am wound… keeps my feet square on the ground
Reminds me that it’s me who chose to lead

It’s true that I will bleed… just like water on a seed
Grown on land that’s never seen a deed
It’s the way that this all sounds… makes me sure that I am found
While others are lost or drowning in their greed.

It’s a lesson you should heed... but it’s one you’ll never read
Before you sit down at the table set to feed
It won’t matter where your bound... cause this circle it ain’t round
On this chain theres just one small shiny bead

Ahh… Down this road we go.

The fact that I caused this- is the sun.
The fact that you let it happen- is the moon.
What lies in the space between is inconceivable.
There is no strength great enough to hang in the balance.

These hollow eyes tell a different tale
of a darker more nefariously slanted reality
that nobody understands but you.

How it was this- then that
and then that and that
then finally what its become.

A charade orchestrated by synapse and fear
as well as a lack of experiential experience
that I  followed earnestly with my heart.

The unbearable weight of truth weakens resolve
bending intentions like magic bends the mind
until all energy flows away from the source.

The bridge now rests in water
with eddy's creating and dissipating
where the metal meets the cool cool water.

No longer can the other side be reached
looks like we'll camp here for the night
they'll be no crossing the divide today.

Unrising are the veiled and cimmerian tempos of old

Unfound this day the nonsensical dogma which bore no fruit

Depleted is the offering of your beating and benevolent inclination

Squandered by the imprudent man as it were dust- ashes to ashes

Left now at the tip of the tongue are no more words

Only the actions of the heart

the visions of the mind

the longing of the soul

In desperate need of water or food
one would not need love.

In search of the sun the moon and the stars
one would not need love.

In the absence of shelter and warmth
one would not need love.

If blinded by the truth and stumbling down
one would not need love.

If cast away on a foriegn shore poor and broken
one would not need love.

If drowning in a sea of hardened tomorrows
one would not need love.

If sleeping and barely breathing in the dark
one would not need love.

In the softness of the voice one never hears calling
is the song of birds and scent of blooming flowers
In the simplicity of truth,
untouchable by hand or limb
is the path,
as it is-
as it was meant to be

Rocks don't like to be kicked and moved from one place to the other.
Also it is not their favorite to be under ground.
Feel free to skip them on soft water, skipping is enjoyed.

But alas when the rock screams.
Even the loudest screams fall so very far from the target.
And through beating pulse felt throughout its being-
The rock breathes, bleeds, sleeps and cries.

For it must be heard: although there are none to hear.
So in silence and at the flimsy whim of the elements.
The rock just perseveres -
It knows not: what else to do.

Beautiful butterfly flying

vibrating clocks shimmer

silent a call

deaf the ear

true be the thumping

overgrown the garden is

Sleepily drowning

now awake

the tremors ricochet

unearthed diamonds in coal

polished new

then left for dead

and so it is-

what it wasn't

or as it may have been


if things were not as they are

but more as they were

or as they never were at all


perhaps more so-

as they could have been

in time... or not...


Perhaps.

Ancient ruins

bright new seeds

battle for light

from the resting sky

fed by unseen tributaries

and silent songs

In Truth,

Because the sun rose,
the sun must set-
because the rain fell,
it now must dry-
because the grass grew,
it shall one day die-