Prop upon an elbow
Look beyond a lens
Stare into the memories to be
And pray
Whispering quietly
That soon it will be so
And that it never has to end

Every time she looks on him
Every time she reads what was his
Every time though he tries and tries
It’s every time she makes him fly

You shake me, because of you.

You hold me, not with arms available, but in captivation.

You fear me, perhaps not because of me, but because of who I am becoming.

I respect you, not only because of him, but because of a gentleman's decorum.

This is... Nerve wracking.

This is not yet... And yet more so for me.

And I thank you for that.

But what is this for you?

Nothing perhaps.

(:

Mountains take an eternity to tear down and build up, and yet confidence can be drawn from a well within minutes.  All one requires is time, while the other requires the desire.

Though hours of silence
May stand still between two hearts
There's nothing between
Your chances and your own hope
With opportunistic eyes

Listen to the rivers run
Your mind with far away

Hear the words of another lover and stay
Be it near or far away
From all others

Focus on the one thing that matters
Until all other matter does fade

As you hark, attend, harken and heed
Be careful not to let the kindest voices
Waiver until they fade and let you slip away
From all others

What threatens and congests my chest
Is neither feeling nor felt
But frustration at the April snow
At the frozen tendencies of me
Which move so slow
And yet, never for the life of them, seem to melt
Frustrating is this man called me

I ache
Like a long howl
Out of the wolf of the mouth
Bellowing at a bright moon
Just out of reach
I ache

When they curse you
And they blame you
When they passively
BOLDLY
Begrudgingly
Or in all other ways
Attempt to shame you
Into fleeing as if
You have nothing to be
And no reason to exist
Or to write such things
As these and this
When they try
And try
And YOU find yourself
Your world
Suddenly spinning
Upsidedown
On brand a new axis
It is then
In that moment
Of parry and precaution
That you must decide
How it is best to be
How you currently see
And can share such things
Beneficial to those
Who WILL always stray
When you hoped they'd stay
But as for me and my house
We will ardently seek
And oftenly pray
To show kindness to those
Who cannot
For the truth of them
Or the life of them
Or for the anger they store inside of them
BEGIN to see
The ways in which
That the sacrificial lamb
Has blessed us all
With this
A BRAND NEW LIFE
Within EACH DAY
This my friends
Is why I say
Be strong in this
And we'll walk that way

A passive mouth
Should not be able to stand
On solid ground

In fact it never will
Know such a foundation

So long as passivity and poison
Anger and predisposition
Line a tiny row of fragile teeth

I will not know
Let alone why it bites

Her hair alive
A life of its own

With waters clear
And mindful eyes

Ever wide awake
As if with sound

Be it nothing at all
She is ever still

I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't come back. Why? Because I'm here, and I'm a most formidable threat to contest.

Foolish to revive
Anew on an April's day
Stormy sentiments
Devoid of such rainy eyes
But full of such snowy woes

The universe puts her headphones on
And plays her favorite track
The raindrops in the meadow burst
And soak the earth
And with her feet up on the world
She smiles from ear to ear
And plays it back

I could tell you a tale
Of eyes like his or of hair like hers
And how such moved, or was, or is
But this is known
To all imaginations
That the retelling and told
Of an already known
Will not change your life
Though the telling of who
To whom through you
May yet remold
Your life into an amalgamate

She is starlight cold
The kind which radiates me
And I am mere glass
Formed by timeless sandy days
And iridescent are we

Do you doubt that the dawn
Will arise anew?
After the hours
In between?

Do you doubt that God
Will not cover you?
With his pinons
As his wings?

For as a child of little
Be full of faith.
And of faithfulness
Indeed.

For as the sun
Each day,
Decides to flee
So our God will never leave.

I'm not myself when I write like this.

I am no more than a memory.

An ink well river which flows and bleeds on tempered sands.

Forever resting at the foothill of childhood.

I am.

Blow the whistle
Hear the rumble
Rolling in your chest

With tracks bound down
And feet locked east
These carousels a crest

Around and round
With heels of steel
And steam so deep to mist

As a southbound train
He whistles now
And his heart she travels west

Nobility knows no ends
Just as moonlight know no bounds
Besides the will of shadows
Which stretches out beneath
And lies in the most familiar heights
Drawn out upon the ground

Those two are like jazz
In both song and spirit
Full of unexpected twists and turns
Highs and lows
Peaks and valleys
Moors and mist

A thinking boy needs a thinking girl. Someone who knows some of, but not the sum of, what is in his or her own head.

Knowing a name
A face
A distant friend
Isn't enough to say
That you can
Because you cannot
Until
Do so much
As pretend
Because you have not
Yet since
Been invited in

Experiential and sensation
Mixed with a desire to connect
A wonder regarding where its going
And very much
The fear that I'll forget
Scribble, scribble, scrawl it quick
The moment turns like a television set
Onward with the next

When the air is cold, and the night is darkest, because the clouds refuse to let the stars shine.

When the quiet sound at last is heard, echoing atop the snow.

When there is a will within and a will for me.

To return to you, with words anew.

Because all of the quietness of the calming nights and winters resting urn, cannot separate you from my thoughts.

Regardless and above.

The stars still burn.

You cannot compare yourself to them -- Be it anyone, sibling or self -- Because God cares not about the framework you desire -- Or the shape or the size of your house -- But God looks inward, with the truest intent -- So does man fail to see past the skin - Because God builds a house in the heart of all hope -- And that hope is where contentment begins.

Careful we
Must always be
Not to isolate ourselves
Because the mind may think
That it's best to fall
From the reasons of former self
But prepared for such things
Inevitably
Lest we are not
Or never will
Be
Ready to concur the former self
To maximize you
Is to challenge through the eyes
Of me

And you want to get lost in the recesses of your mind? There is only you there, what do you expect to find?

Staring into the eyes of life

And to be not afraid of another day

Is the essence of a man most confidence

And to hold it confidently in such a way

So as not shake or waver within

Or to back away from the wall of change

But a change as it is, is a chance to remain

And to never break from your life's first gaze

If you are the dawn
Awake and alive
Then I am the moment of the day which breaks
And turns into the bitter night

My own masked by starlight
Your left alone crowned with a sparkling retina alive

It's to you that I turn
At the end of all things
When the day first began to realize its own light

We are young and alive
Ever ready to strive
Towards the hours invested within, without sight

Hope beyond all hope to be
Smile in earnest objectivity

Stand aside
Walk away
Drink a tall alone in stay with room for milk

And scribble furiously at me
Be it not at all

For within some distance
Far away
As a hope for me I feel called to say

Or with half an ask

That I hope though know that you're okay

My favorites are named like Midnight Rain, with Marshmallow toffee in the Skye.

Beneath Weeping Willow dreams a dream, of Elizabeth and her Squires.

Midst the Rose's Kelly is always found, neath the Sun and Princess shine.

Untill the Star's BG in the background be, glow these favoring words of mine

Dreams are...
Like the stars
Unreachable but
Still embedded
Within existence

So my memories tell me
"Wow indeed"
Because she kissed like it was with the last breath of eternity

I have always been a shadow tower

With arms of bended steel

Love me, hate me

Do with me your opinion what will

But never will I change as this

Or let my shadows lack therein

The will to see it though and thru

And deliver it with a furious will

You know half of the worries
More than that…
ALL of the worries inside your head
Are entirely your own
And therefor are in need of one thing
OWNERSHIP if you please
For it would please you more than such constant worry
To be free of such things

The discovery of true words
Is but one of the many mysteries we seek
Both under stones and under moon
And in the volumes of our histories, we find
That no two words were ever successfully left alone
No sentence of the mind was ever so perfect as to be
The word of God without inspiration
No, mere mortal words I find to be
The loneliest of lonely things
But true words are of a great ideal
And ideals are often shrouded in such mysteries
And THIS … Is where you may laugh at me

(:

Behind the mask of distant past
Where the memories still mill abound

Within the frame of paper mache
Where the words, oh yes, the words can be found

Beneath the eyes, below the cheeks
Is a smile ever winding down

And I am but one such memory, perhaps
As a word once kept around

As the wind whips through the valley, so do these thoughts breeze through my mind.

Suddenly.
Occasionally.
Coolly.

Contemplating you and then some, other someone, some other time.

Steadfast and true as are the rooted trees of are.

Not ours mind you.

Though the wind itself is never so consciously on my mind.

You are.
At times.
On mine.

Love her like your ideal love
Like the dream of how she’ll love you
But an ideal is not an excuse for this
You must explain what love means to you

Writers block is a state of mind

Pour yourself out
Fill your cup
And caffeinate

Don't ****
But live the time

A man
Falls always from his pen again
And rolls a thought into a distant hand

As stories
Ever meant to pass
Are passed by
With the hope of hopes

That in someone else's world
His words will last

Powerful fingers
You will know them when you see them
Holding stars, holding planets
In between their webbedd wisdom

Hear them snap inside a thunderclap
And grasp the cup turned skywards
Hold the palm to match the desert
Each crevasse a meadow river

From the creator to the created
A hand to offer, hand to hold
So much for power and for wisdom
For every story ever told

Has been by his hands

You know, the easiest part of saying or reading someone else's words, is that you get to walk away from them at the end of the day.

You always remember the last time
Iconicized within your mind

Think back to when it was actually then
And you'll find it out over and over again

Like a slowing dance
With contented sigh
You can hear the fond memories rolling by
At a gradual pace

Be it in truth to pass
Or in feelings which last

There is the feeling of first
And the memory of last

With a rain like this
That would never stop
I'd wish it not over
Again and again
That way I wouldn't have to face the sunshine
Let alone call it mine
When this need for a new life of mine
Must begin

HUMAN WORLDS
are like sips of whiskey

GODS WORLD
is like the first Great River.

MY WORLDS
are because of my thirst

AND HIS WILL BEYOND THIS WORLD
will flow forever
through the valley of eternal consciousness