I've become phenomenal, outstanding, and courageous.
I've become dignified.
I've become a person that understands the meaning of life and all its wonders.
I've become amazing and outstanding, succeeding in all ways.
I shall achieve my success at any rate.
What I have earned no one can take away from me.
What I have earned no one can give to me but myself.
You cannot explain me in words but, even if you tried to write them on a page
The words would merely lift up and fly away.

Young: dreaming
of impossible possibilities
Unrestrained, untethered from reality
Unaware of the ticking, of the passing
of the seconds, of the hours,
of the years to the end
of eternity.

Climbing
Climbing and
Clinging
to the hope that one can dream forever
and as the feet are swinging
the child, fearless of pain, fearless of the fall, is ever
naive, and never expecting
that one day the dream may end.

For what was once a child is a child no longer

Mature: daydreaming
of the past, yet troubled of the future
Unfeatherd, grounded in reality
All too aware of the arching clock hands
and the hours that turn into seconds
and the days that pass into years
begin to fade into
oblivion.


Falling
Falling and
Failing
to realize that the feet now rest upon the ground
and the child that was once fearless, is fearing
the depths of a future not yet found
forever doubtful yet hoping
To continue to dream at day’s end.

What was gained was equally lost
And with this knowledge in hand
The child finally stands
Holding on to the dreams of tomorrow
Grasping the fantasies of yesterday

Indeed, what once was can never be again
To march forward never to return
What awaits are only questions, what remains are only “ifs”
But what stands tall is neither a realist nor a dreamer

What stands is a child no longer

A blank canvas
was occasionally graced
with the sky and lake
in hues of blue
As the wind pushes
the sails of boats
Outside a window.
Inside a home
An artist in a chair
brings life
Into a still frame
Strangers unaware
Of the strokes that bind them
to an empty page
Here they will lay
for eternity.
Years later, far away
a breeze
seems to sing
a threnody
the tide will rise
and the sun will set
Here lie words
as flowers
An empty chair
No artist here
On a grave by the lake

Let’s make a wish
Upon a shooting star
A wish that will go, and travel far.
No matter where, no matter how
Let’s make a wish
To a world un-round.
LOOK! Its Orion, which means Lepus is near
Soon we’ll see Fornax, but lonely Pyxis hides within the heavens still.
You say “They're not complex”
But, I argue they are.
You say “They're just gases”
But, I argue they're stars
And on them live wishes and chances and dreams.
So, let’s make a wish
On that frozen Asteroid.
On that white tailed beast.
And we’ll let it decide which wish shall be
You’ll make a wish for the Universe to unravel
For knowledge unbound, for the truth to be revealed
For answers to all, for guesses to none
For Peter to remain lost, for the sword of Damocles to fall.
I’ll make a wish
For Artemis to shoot her bow
And knock a star out of the sky
A gift to you my friend
For the Universe to remain a mystery
I’ll make this wish for you tonight.

She sees the waves ram against the crags, stretching outward and onward to the line that breaks the sky in half, and in doing so it meets the sea in a wholesome piece. The waves crash upon the sand and walking across it is a white horse taller than she; its black eyes capture her in a doe-eyed gaze, and as it approaches she is consumed by a strange fear and in terror she leaps into the sea and is swept away by the white currents that roll her along, throw her, jostle her, swallow her and eventually spit her out only to pound her once more, dragging her slowly, to where the white waves subside and the sky meets the sea.

I'm losing it all,
inch by inch
pebble by pebble
grain by grain.
I'm losing my world,
So I starve on twigs
In a bountiful Hell
A stomach too empty
To hold any traces.
I'm losing my hope,
Too long have I stayed
Too long have I prayed
Oh, but God knows
I must find a way.
I'm losing it all
"Don't give up hope!" I beg
Let me cry for you
let me take on your pain
So we can see another day
I would rather suffer
Than to watch you fade.
So for just one day, just one moment,
I'll take on your agony.
Yet I know its in vain, to wish or to ask,
So I'll keep on hoping, and praying for another day to last.

I cannot…comprehend her,
Because I do not know her.
I cannot…describe her,
Because she cannot be described.
One does not simply put her into words.
For words are insufficient.
They are meaningless, colorless, and passionless.
PASSION.
She alludes to it, she bathes in it.
She is not defined by it, but she defines it.
She cannot be seen…she is illusive.
Invisible, intangible, indescribable…invincible
She is brave-dauntless-
She amazes all, yet none can amaze her.
She is fierce-untamable:
She is determined-unbreakable.
She is she.
For I can hear her, yet
I cannot comprehend her.
For I can see her, but
I cannot touch her.
Because it is she who burns with brilliance, with life.
For it is she who lives on
And walks on the air with her head held high, and yet
It is I who kneels to the ground and dies.
I will never compare to her, but
How can I say such nonsense?
For it is I who is she, and it is she who is I.

Out upon a cold plain
From the view of my coach seat
I see a world coated in frost
The fields are white
The fog is dense
This world is dull, and yet its beauty is baffling
Facing backwards along the tracks
As the world moves in reverse
This must be a dream...
But I am awake.
I gaze upon silhouettes far beyond my reach
Is it a house? A tree? A person?
They are a mystery to me
I wish for them to stay that way.
This world is a stranger to me.
A stranger, yet a friend.
A slimmer of gold breaches through the thick white fog
Over time it grows and multiplies
The fog slowly dies
And in its dying breaths it gives birth to the dawn.
I'm blinded by the colors before me.
Rich browns and greens greet me.
The frost of an early morning still remains
The trees, though leaf-less, reach up towards a cerulean sky
And the sun radiates a gentle hue that castes dancing shadows along my coach.
This world is beyond my comprehension
A world that is a stranger and yet a friend to me.

Oh,
How many times have I dreamed
of places and people I'll never meet?
Ah,
How many times have I imagined a different life or person
that I wished to be?
Such thoughts visit me when I am in great need
For sometimes the present seems too bitter,
and the future, unsweet.
Sometimes I loathe the unending march of the clock hand
which follows its unchanging path with a persistent pace,
Sometimes I fear the deafening silence
In which relentless ghosts come to greet me,
with past wishes and regrets...
Oh God...
Please just once, let me turn back the hand of time
Let me go back to a time when a minute was a millennium
and a day forever,
Let me once again sit upon my patio
watching the world go by, oblivious to all its evils,
Let me regain my invincibility
which I tested tirelessly,
Let me revisit that earliest memory of mine,
where I petted a horse along the seashore,
Please, let me stop the hand of time
To remain in her embrace forever,
To stay on the beach with her forever,
To race down the block with him forever,
To be chased by him forever,
To hear her lessons forever,
To watch her knit forever,
To build makeshift castles with her forever,
To be in their presence forever.
To be...forever.
Ah,
How many times will I march forward as I taste salt upon my cheek?
Oh,
How many times will I go running back,
to a past I will never meet?

I’m watching clouds take their time.
Across the sky, they wave goodbye.
Compared to a hummingbird’s hasteful wings
No brighter truth does it bring,
Then to take life one small step at a time
To enjoy the sweetest fruits, rather than the bitterest limes.
There is no need to rush at full speed.
Why race the wind, when you can enjoy the breeze?
Listen, Love, here is a gentle kiss
For like cupid’s arrow that will not miss
A long road cannot be conquered in a single day.
Take your time, and enjoy the breeze, and remember, “C’est la vie!”
So, I’ll watch the clouds in heaven’s bay
And take life’s road, day by day.

Y’know that moment.
When the air leaves your lungs
That split second of deprivation
That instance in which your body,
Stills in anticipation
For a sweet, delicious, drink of air.
And in that very instance,
You are unwittingly knocked out of homeostasis.
The very nerves within your lungs cry out.
Your muscles tense, and for a millisecond everything freezes.
The world becomes still.
The wind no longer blows, the clouds halt,
The stars watch and the universe trembles.
The noise finally becomes silent
Your agonies and pains evaporate
And you exist in that instance, only you, just you.
So for one moment, just a second, close your eyes
And take in a deep gulp of euphoria
Yes, that’s it.
Breathe.

The ancient one
sits alone
in silence
Though ages pass
age old bark; strong
to outlast the graying mountains
to outlive the bearded turtle

The archaic author
Time's story etched in wood
before pen
before pencil
before feather and slab
Your body will tell the tale of a
thousand years' journey. hence

Scholar of sage
When all have gone
come and pass
and the hands of time have ticked their last
You will remain, here to stay
All alone, a memento
Of a thousand years' triumph

It was quiet
When the dog went out
into the backyard, he trotted
bravely away from the house
away from safety.
As he touches his nose to the dry soil
The world is alight
A shutter of white soon accompanied by
a roar
and then a shake
and then a cry
and then the tree across the street
is split…in two
with a yelp, he is gone
But if he had remained, and looked up,
rather than at the burning tree
he would have seen
White-blue lightning run across the sky
The rolling and buckling clouds above
The heavens parting and breathing
Gods tearing the world asunder…
But he is a dog.
It was enough.
so he ran back to the house
back to safety
Afraid.

From my comfortable retreat
I glare out at the daring white swirls,
that dance past my windowsill.
I detest the growing glaciers,
that loiter on my roof.
I shiver in the presence of,
that harsh frost bite that chills my world.
But most of all I loathe that naked oak
standing tall within my yard,
dead asleep from winter’s grasp.
Yet despite it all, I imagine that it dreams
of a warm August breeze, of a kiss of June’s sun
of April’s gentle showers, and the blessed greens of May.
So as I lounge in my chair, encased in blankets
I close my eyes and I see
a bright sun above me,
I feel green grass beneath my feet
I dream of summer.

It is
An apparition
that fades
in and out of the conscious
appearing at the beginning of a thought
and vanishing at the end

To search for it, is to wade through fog
Unclear, hesitant, and indistinct
But to finally catch hold of it
Is to hold the air
Weightless and formless

It sits in the corner, at the very edge
At the precipice of comprehension
As it draws near, within grasp, it is
The rich scent of apple pie
It is the feel of a warm and comforting embrace,
It is the taste of salt upon wet cheeks,
it is the sound of rambunctious laughter,
It is the sight of home…

Sometimes, it strikes
Like fierce lightning, both bright and undeniable
Other times it is the slow recognition
Of a steady sun rising above the horizon.
And yet when it leaves, it fades all the same
Like grains of sand held in one’s hand
Only to be spilled upon the beach, it is swept away by the sea.
Perhaps, one day it may once again
Be pushed upon the shores, to grace the conscious once more.