i found myself on Mars

after i thought i lost my mind in Salta

until time told me
i rather lost myself in my mind
the language of my Atlas
too hard to read
especially in the still of the night
i sit so still
still so alive we are
we lay, lying among a graveyard of stars
and i open up to a map full of madness
black and white in a world full of color
where these red sands of Salta
make me think of Mars

i found this one barely breathing
on a Tuesday afternoon buried beneath the sands
of time . speaking of time,
a couple light years away
i'd find the book i lost again
stained by the sands
of Mars.

i almost lost my mind in Salta

then
i found myself on Mars.

to note:
This Atlas has no copyright, so I have been cautious with my beliefs in regards to map accuracy. If I shall lose this book once more, for public knowledge, the one who finds it must know that there is the risk of getting lost. Do not fear the maps. You may come across unknown paths. Keep going. Find yourself.

the woke up in a world
fixated within each other's eyes
soul full tears
falling-each one to the earth
at an instant-sprirts emerging from the core
became an orphic jungle
and so they spoke imagination
became a single leaf-leaves of life
upon the trees
most soulfully speaking-hymns
and so they walked the path-creation

when solving for x:

the answer is absent in the question
therefore...
the process becomes a complication
do not fear the complication...
for x is the factor
of life
the unknown...
substance of the questions
that trigger the brain
a mental illusion of matter
of what matters
of what must matter to answer the mark of mystery
if x can not be found
do not disregard the possibility
for what is lost shall be found once again
completeness
in defining the solution
the circle
in perfect circumference
unlike the others
for what goes around does come around
to meet
at one point  
pure significance
without any points at all
for edges do not exist
yet the points are clearly stated
3 specific
for the angles represent a connection
of truth
so complicated in occasion
like that of the alchemist
the fire the air the water and the earth
transform geometry into geography
views
from another angle
look beyond the numbers

now solve for x:

she told me not to cry during the night
so i'll wait 'til tomorrow
when the sun will shine
and i resist loneliness
since the sun, i know, will shine
to warm my soul
with euphoria
and so i do
think to myself
nostalgic
of this life
where love does flourish
in a place
and there i do exist
and i am happy
and i am so in love with him
the hymns are haunting
though i do play them
over and over
i listen
like a broken record
for a broken heart

such wonder
s and such moment
s that still fill my heart
so heavy with emotion
so natural like the sunlight
that does shine for me-i think
until-i question
yet again..
what happens if it does not
rise again
what happens when it rains
and so i start to cry
and my whole world does fall
like rain
i look around
as time stands still
amidst a puzzle of a place
i stand alone
under the same sun
as the ones who came before me
and cursed me with this soul
i run
to the waves
take me to loveland
i scream
into the wind
no one else can seem to hear me
has no one ever?
while a voice is sometimes louder
in the mind
rather than within the world
where volumes drown the lyrics
to the most beautiful songs
of myself

looking directly into the sun
i see nothing
feel
nothing
and i cry no more

we wait in apprehension
victims consternation
of a futuristic image
where love is lost
in the darkness
because the sun no longer shines
down upon the sinners
who fail to shoot the moon
and so we shoot our brothers
without consideration
a evil sense of admiration
we fall
into a world
a beautiful disease
where peace is the cure
that truly can not be found

the song is over
and i think within the silence
what would the world be without music...

silence
becomes too loud
with the absence of a melody
so let's make it ourselves
play the world a song
of yourself
for within the silent man
exists a genius mind
pure in passion
he plays
to break the silence
to mend the world

so we sing in chorus
"we are the world"
and so we are

Dear California,

i have thought about you
often
restless in my mind
like the waves
upon you're shores
the pacific coast
a pacifist in love
with your sunsets
an image rhapsodic
a canvas of serenity

Dearest California,

i do think about him
always
restless in my mind
like the way we drive
to the beat
of the music
feelings fixated
by the bond between our
souls
and so we look at the stars
reminiscent
a catalyst of eunoia
i pray

My Dearest California,

i give to you
the one
who showed me
the power
of love
for this love he will share with you
and so i ask
to gift yourself to him
for one day soon
you shall see him look at the stars
which light up the darkest
of your lands
a sight i share with you

California,

you must see
here
that he has then discovered
a love
for you
and so
at this very moment
he will begin to dream
of wonders
with you,

His Dearest California.

before the beginning
were the thinkers,
the thoughts,
the ideas,
the great imaginations.
before the beginning of time,
life as we know it,
the story of our being,
came the authors of the world.
who may the be?
for centuries upon centuries people have discovered the ideas,
words that have been granted the representation of existence,
the gospels of our truth.
however, fooled we must be, as the authors of our world remain a fraction of an individual imagination.
history and fate only share such in common,
and so the authors of our world have intended all of this
as we live our lives, the ones we have been gifted by them,
the authors,
and so they say "Maktub",
it is written.

the fear of knowing
can be disguised as
a mystery
unsolved,
untouched,
as doubt infests our immediate reactions
it is i do believe
inevitable-
wonder
consumes the mind,
a wonder of its own

"Quoting Tennyson?"
She asked.
The After-Thought.
The first time she had ever spoken to me
Other than the imaginary conversations we had all put aside in a file titled HER in the back of my mind.
I knew I loved her when my eyes caught hers, a first glance, like one of those slow motion hallway scenes in an 80s movie. That was it.
So here it is.
This is the story of a girl who broke my heart.

when u go to take a picture
you're truly taking it away
the meaning
the being
the matter and the mind
what you think you're taking now
is what you lose within

so use your eyes as lenses
the dimensions seem to focus
as you observe the beauty
of the real
avoid the false enjoyment
the madness of imagery

a faded blue
when the sun sets
west over
there by the bridge in the back
round of the photograph
i framed long ago
burned in a fire
of rage and fury
ash -
like dust in the wind-
and the blue does fade into black
to only prove that darkness will return again

i count the stars above me now
in the midst of silence
my thoughts are countless
drowning out the washing in of waves
and there i close my eyes beside the beach
i photographed
a moment when the summer wind did blow
the calm onto the shores
where chaos had no chance
because of my serenity
oh what a time

and so my memory does fade
like the blues
where day does turn to night
i fear the dark
for i have yet to dream
of that perfect blue
i photographed with you-
a sky that i could only pray
to dream about
and fall.
...
asleep

i fade away

my journey
(the one i hope will lead to you)
began such sixteen years ago and so
it is today
in which i found it to be true

i shall navigate uncharted seas
cross deserts old and new
of all the places i will go
will be from where i write to you


around the world
in search of all your lessons
your stories and your truths
all of which i've read
180 pages
of words i write to you

if  nothing is impossible
it is you who i turn to
wherever my heart is
will be where i find my treasure
and so i write to you

Dearest Italy,
on the 1st of November
i met him in Verona
and so begins my story
Ours
Sincerely,
Yours

i walk onto the waters
for impossibility is a word
used by those in fear
of failure
and for them i rise above the clouds
and fly
for their fear of falling
is my freedom
exhilarated
by the rush
of the moment
and so i appear
in a dream
where one is standing
at the edge of tomorrow
and the only way to get there
is to conquer the waters
or the skies
however
this is one who fears
because of what they say
so i take the hand
of one
to show what it's like
to defeat reality

i met her in the spring
the feeling of
home sweet home
like the sweetest smile
for which she revealed
for me
i felt
with my mistress
no longer lost
but found
like a peaceful dream
she led me on a road
to somewhere
but assured me, yes in fact she did,
that it would lead me back to her
so i walked on
with Georgia on my mind

the moon watched the sun rise every morning
for all he wishes
is for a moment
to be so close to her
as to sense her very self
for as selfless as the moon
the sun shines for them
lighting up a world so selfish
he watches the sun so close
yet so far away
and wonders what shall happen if he moves
among the stars
and into the path of light
a beaming oh so fond of
such a miracle
and so she sees him nearing
and stops to think
that this is it
for love is but a verb
for irresistible
it becomes
between one and another
for the story ends
where love begins
for the moon and sun
one love
forever

lost

he left her heart
on the train
underneath the newspaper
he never thought to read
busy thinking about
the vagabond life
questioning the theory
of love
how and why
where and when

and so he got off that train
without that newspaper
left it where he left it
and took a train to Boston
27 hours away from mile high
the cold heart he left
underneath that newspaper
in window seat
of the 15th row
on the train

3 years later he got on a train
looking for her heart
gone
without it
where would he find it, that he
once lost
only hope resides
on the train he now would take
28 hours
1 past mile high
to the house he knew that heart would be

where do lost things go?
not back from whence they came-
of course-
to where they belong

so he got on the train back to Boston
and there it was
the heart
of the woman he lost
found reading the paper he had never thought to read
sitting in the window seat
of the 15th row
on the train

found

he played the same song
of love
running around in my dreams
all throughout my mind
the chords echoed in my head
touching the strings of my heart
oh so beautifully
he played
falling in love with him
like falling in love with the music

the child sings a song to the sea whom the child loves beyond measures existent only in context for the world may never know the power from which a seaborne holds within the depths of the child's soul.

"you make it oh so easy
                                easy to love you
                                                      you put me in this ocean
                                                                ­                        ocean state of mind
where everything makes sense
                                             sense that only children know
                                                                ­                        know the sea so well
and so i am                                                               ­                                     and  
        so am i
                    i feel at home with you
                                                      you make it oh so easy
                                                            ­                          easy to live in a dream
                                                           ­                                                       dreams that
       are without an ending time                                  
                          ­                      time is but a figure
                                                                ­       figure of speech
                                                                ­                   of imagination
and so i am                                                               ­                                     and
        so am i
                   i roll the tide and take it
                                                             with me
wherever i may go
                                                             with you
                                                             ­         you are my home"

seaborne the child sings this song and if you listen closely you can hear them hum among the waves where the music plays and the children dance in praise of the world they belong.

a time
when i sat in a garden
observing the significance of the flower
the being of beauty
in simplistic of terms
no terms in actuality
for what was the purpose of the dictionary
i made up words on my own
that only i could hear
as i sat alone in the garden
my elementary playground
full of flowers
like me
a time of reality
for my elementary mind
shaped by the elementary lessons
my insides had twisted and turned
tangled like a vine
that cling upon the park bench
i do there sit upon
with wonder and new found questions
that i ponder as of now
a flower
resting delicate in the palm
silent
and i promise myself that i will too, become so vibrant
to paint the world a garden
with words
a time where i sat on a bench alone and all but lonesome
with the many voices there surrounding me
i named my voice an outlier among the numbers
for the picture i did paint was not that of people
but of flowers
and there i sat among them  
a mind all  but elementary

angels
sent from up above
woke her up
took her hand
and asked her what it was she hoped to discover
"turn your magic on"
she said
and so they went
on the adventure of a lifetime

"look at the stars"
the angels whispered to her
"look how they shine for you"
so she looked and reached up
a handful of stars
she lit up the world

and there awoke the sea
nature's own
the hills
they sang to her and so she danced
she loved  it all
the sense of belonging

stuck in reverse
the angels told her
it was time to go
and the tears streamed down her face
"lights will guide you home"
spoke the angels
"put your wings on me"
said the girl
and so they did
and so they went

leaving all of it behind
the girl let go of the stars
darkness now instilled in silence
a head full of dreams
now full of despair

the angels brought her home
to where she belonged
"goodnight"
the angels whispered
and so she slept
and dreamed
of paradise

on a sunday afternoon
a baby girl was born
and so life had begun
for a seldom creature
God's miracle
stepped into a place
where her very presence
would change the world forever

they felt it after 3 years
something was different
a girl
of such immaculate beauty
remained from speaking a word
and so they gave her time
to come into her own

but time passed on
and the girl never spoke a word
no one could figure why
there were doctors
there were tests
there were places
to go
but nothing seemed to awaken the silence

people watched her
as she wrote
in her very own
a book
full of secrets
to an identity
so fragile
not even a fire
nor a flood
could destroy such an image
of perfection
and with this
she held it close


the girl
was truly mesmerizing
strangers stared
and when they attempted to speak to her
a smile was the only answer
for the mystery of awe
seemed to disguise itself '
in the body of an angel

until one day

on a sunday afternoon
a boy was born
and a girl looked down
into her very arms
and whispered quietly into the ear
of her son

"maktub"
she said

for i witnessed this death myself-and it brought my soul to life
“My painting is dead” he spoke
in all but falling to his very death
in hopes that the hour ends
painting beauty from such pain
where i see a man there up above  
as i do walk these floors beneath the ceiling
footprints soon shall walk the earth-the first time
she comes from rock-his expertise-forte
there in the sculptor's work
see what’s hidden
so study closer
only to the very genius of the painter
seemingly complete
and the story comes to life
like words on a page
whose creations escape surface
by a sculptor
a miracle complete
when the very eyes of Julius did witness
and i marvel at the moment there it time
? i wonder
what do they think of this
yet filled with existence-abundant
the room so silent-so still
holy, holy, holy, lord
the heart that fills with spirit
and so grasps the divine of depth within
the hands feel more than simply flesh
i see in clarity
the first time
of man
whose hand does touch the hand
so loudly to proclaim the word of God
with more than vibrant hues and tones
the craftsman there at work he spoke

spoke he
“I am not a painter”

i drove 154 miles this week.
It's April and the rain seems to be depicting my sensations.
i think it to be crazy to feel so alone in a world full of people.
Billions.
Maybe I am crazy.

I may have met them all, but I have known no one
except for the conscience of myself
a friendly foe.
because the truth is:
we are prisoners of our own minds.

and i am locked behind bars in the mindset of my own
attempting to escape the walls
i reach through into the reality and grasp the key
between my fingers
cold
i have the power
in my fingers i hold it to tightly
only to loosen the grip and let it go

they fall to the floor
i fall to the floor

A single person rarely asks me how my day is going,
for the image of which the strangers look is far too peculiar
weird
strange
and simply not worth the waste of breath.
A human being may take around 25,000 breaths per day
without even a slight consideration in the energy inside
and instead the energy around them
kinetic in communication
yet abstracted in my own perception
through the rearview
of the car
of which I drive
the miles
154 this very week
the infamous streets of the city
so sullen
yet so brilliant
illuminated

so i drive
and do not speak a word
besides "hello" in the beginning
and "have a nice day"
in the end
because these people I shall never meet again
a nice day
one with laughter I hope
so much for these people

and I hope that they will see the world
and learn so much about so much
about themselves
like I have
and have not

the wisest man i met was on the subway
around 4 am
i took this time for myself
and took a trip to the underworld
because sometimes the world's most incredible treasures and truths are the ones we can't see
intangible

like a song
so many yet to discover
to create
let me tell you about my favorite

I started gauging my drives in the number of songs rather than the number of miles

Some say that falling in love can have similar neurological effects to that of *******. This “drug” does not only affect the depths of the heart’s desire, but the complexity of the mind as well. Love is more than just a feeling, and so when the feeling does exist, it  becomes a power, and this power can overcome almost anything. Love though, may not always lead to a happy ending; in fact, its power may lead one unto the path of heartache. Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Love is the strongest force the world possesses and yet it is the humblest imaginable.”

1945
trumpets sang a triumphant song
that echoed throughout the city
and these lights,
these lights i tell you,
a tear.
looked up
around
the motions slow
i placed my hand upon
the white fur coat
he bought for me one day
one day ago
and felt the warmth
of my beating heart
that beats for him
my love
who i run to
into the open arms
of a man who lifts me up
and all stop to stare
at a moment
the scene so slow
as to stop the time of pain
and with this all stop to stare
at the lights
that shone down upon the two
whose love lit up the city
to set ablaze
such a song did play
at this very moment
in 1945

the summer wind
whispered
her name
as if to set her free
one with the oceanic hymns
a scenic route to paradise
and so she went
away with
the summer wind

The world
in ruins
My heart
in pieces
The people
Fearful
The feeling
Dreadful
Lost in fear
Fear of lost
Causes
And effects
Where destruction
Leaves the world
In hope
But not I
For I heard the cries
And so I gave the world
The pieces
Of something once so pure
As I kissed it goodbye
Away I went
And on my way
I saw it come together
United
In a heartbeat
I felt it once again
For the world
Holds my heart
Forever
And away I went

Peace
Rather live in it
For you may not rest while you're awake
So wake up and
Love
Rather live in it
For the clock may sound
And you fall only to be caught by the past
A very critical
Time
Rather live in it
For managing the minutes
Strips power from the moment
So quickly can it
Change
Rather be it
For you can see with the eyes
But look deep within the heart
The answers
Come from the Soul
Rather feed it
Do not starve the prisoner for he will not acknowledge hunger
And when his mind sets the table for the sinner
Take the seat away and let him
Wonder
Rather live in it
The mystery is the beauty in the madness
Rather embrace it
For fear is merely
A figure of imagination
Rather
Bring it all to life

the time i met her
under the bridge
a winter afternoon
Brooklyn
the chill in the air
3:23
i can feel it
like just a few moments ago
i can see it all again
come back
i hope
3:23
the lust
has pulled her away
from the girl i met
and i promised her the world ,
the one she took away
with her
at
3:23

picture you're life-
our life-
you and me together-
we're driving over that bridge--
right there.
(points to the left)
and we roll down all the windows
and im playing my guitar-
so loud---
that the ocean freezes over,
just to hear you sing-
to the music.
because you're voice,,
it tells a story.
the story of us.
the one we'll write.
an original.
sing it loud baby girl,
sing it loud

everything
has a soul
like this tree
has a soul
and so it lives
like us
but not at all
for the centric definition
exists in parallel
to an idea of something far greater
and much deeper
where the soul succeeds
that of the outer most impressions
of a human being
for we may look at the tree
and know of its purpose
as its soul
it exists
in this world
where we
however
use our souls to guide us
on a destined path
where purpose is the destination

gravity brings me back
to you
to us
to the day
i decided it was you who i would fall for
and so i did
yet how far can i fall
until i land
awaken from this existent dream
of what i hope for it to be
the one thing i know for sure
is that gravity
can not be challenged
it can not be over ruled
dragging me down from
reality
i know for sure
it truly
brings me back to you

105 people die each minute
according to google
and for the first time
i put it into perspective
and watch the clock for 60 seconds
to just take a moment
a moment to just feel the loss
of people I'll never know

and i breathe
and i cry
and i listen
too

a song that reminds me of a lesson
of letting go
like day and like the time of night
while i do in fact like the dark
for the reason i can hide
with open eyes
to stare at the stars through the ceiling
that keeps me from flying away
in the middle of the night
i stay awake
to take another minute
and smile
because 250 people were born.

once upon a time...

fifty stars
did shine so luminous
with enlightenment
and red signaled the stop
to violence and oppression
blue waters led to a land
of the free
where white pages
fill with colors to shape our history

but those pages
are being burned
and many the stars
now invisible
complete darkness swallows society's entire existence
no longer indivisible
no longer standing

the question:
what is liberty and justice for all
without liberty and justice for America?

don't let this be
The End.

for The United.

music is the soul's revival,
a universal method
to suite one's emotions.
like a poet, an artist or musician,
releases their inner self, personal thoughts and feel
into a piece for others to relate to.
it is the music that can be felt more than touch.
it is the music we can hear from all over the world, but you see
hearing it is one thing while
feeling it is another.

listen close my love,
before i fall asleep

here, tonight,
in the comfort of your arms,
you should know

i can't go back
to how i used to be
an innocence of love
of truth
deeper than i could imagine
a miraculous world
that only our ardor could comprehend

so i ask you this,
here, tonight
please don't break my heart
for only you could ever fix it.

until next time,
goodnight my love

Tomorrow.
A possibility disguised as a simple guarantee.
There is nothing promised for the future
For the next moment is a mystery
And so we are so focussed
About who it is we want to be
Tomorrow
Instead of who we are
Today.


Seven
Days it took to create such a world
Enigmatic
Yet written step by step in clear pronunciation
Wonders
And so there are so wonderful
However
I have discovered wonders of my own
My own world
I have created
And so to you i say


Create yourself
Fearless of the night
Embrace the silence of the stars
Become one with one
However
Connect your piece of mind
With another
A stranger
Shakes the hand for peace
Becomes a friend
Brings adventure
Enlightens the depths within the soul


Love is but a verb
So use it as a noun
Question it
With caution
For it’s fragile
Keep it safe


Wake up the sun before it wakes you first
Time is of the essence
So they say
And one moment you may realize
That time too must transcend
But the mystery exists
So ignore the realization
Of where and when tomorrow
And live for here and now


Live for you today.




Wise people speak wise words.
Your words are your message.
Here is a message for you.


The Dalai Lama, when asked what surprised him most about humanity, answered


"Man.... Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money.
Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health.
And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present;
the result being that he does not live in the present or the future;
he lives as if he is never going to die,
and then dies having never really lived."


Live today.

I shot the boy
whose name i did not know

I looked down
Into the streets
Where peace had once resided
Now torn at the seams
And scarred with the essence of evil

People hide in fear
As their world crumbles
Crashing down before their eyes
Exactly as it seems
And so i closed my eyes

i shot the boy
Whose name i did not know