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 Feb 2014
Standing in the sunlight
Warmness on my face
The brightness nearly blinds vision
I lick the beams to test their taste
Just for contemplation
I wonder at the experienced sight
Of standing on a sun's molten seas
Where light forbids the night
Burning with such ferocity      
In the middle of the cold dark matter
Where a single touch may move a ton
Great held truths may begin to shatter
But I am merely staring at the sun
And a simpler day had started
Outside the lids of the closed eyes.
 Feb 2014
The steps are the steps
inward and flowing,
downward and away,
no time for possibility,
my mind has gone astray.
I chase not the chance of a certain moment,
I planned the time it took to hold it,
Not the falling that morphs the thought,
It is the telling that is yet taught,
We are rarely are own dreams,
Most times battling internal screams,
Merely a prospector of our own demands,
Turning to keep a little head above the sand,
That is thick and I am sinking oh so quick,
into a ground that devours my wit,
Making it so hard for me to state,
But I can't understand why she won't open the gate.....
 Feb 2014
There is a hole in my head,
      it's leaking my brains,
    I'm losing my emotions,
I'm going insane,

It's hard to refrain from esoteric occupations,
living in a world of conflicted demonstration.

  I don't ask for your pity in any rhetorical connotation.
  I seek the wisdom....of a questionable generation.
To answer patiently awaiting deliberation.

  But I leave here with no expecting realization,
  As we all can see the sign of mild sleep deprivation.

But it is so much fun to see my brains interpretation.....
 Feb 2014
We turn pages like the hands of a clock,
merely waiting for the pain to stop.

The hurt that is everlasting,
and full of creeping doubt.

Where lacking of beliefs is in an action so dire,
blood is often required.

The causeways of life's sour disposition,
housed in simmering veins.

These lines of a most terrible descent,
locked in a loving embrace of time.

The countless seconds of infinite measures,
left in a crumbling heart, forever.

New beginnings can come from broken things,
if we only tend to the marionette stings of our heart.
 Feb 2014
Missed so often are the gestures
Of emotions without measure
But no less heavy from here to there.

Through nonverbal communication
Not similar to meditation
We may speak on the body's accord.

For it does not require sound
To make meaning leap and bound
Far beyond the transgression of varying tongues.

There is understanding in sight's percept
Often retold in a night or two slept
Still she is all the fills my mind.

So while a gesture I have yet to see
A burning in my mind has yet to flee
As a vision has my emotions lost for words.

— The End —