You see this building? I built this building. But nobody knows that I built this building.

I can only assert that I did build this building, and refresh my own memory of building said building.

But at the end of the day, it's just an old building. And ironically enough, I've never stopped building.

There are a few other people who helped build this building. Like myself they can say that they did build this building.

And even if all of our name were there on an engraving, it would never truly be anyone's personal building.

Because we built it for those, so that they could start building. So that they could get going and build their buildings.

Because the framework we built was a structure of learning. And we each taught ourselves through the process of learning.

Like a thousand tiny pencil tips,
Scratching out their little lines in eagerness.

Like the rustling leaves of the many trees,
Just beyond the meadow devoid of mist.

Like the tapping thimble of a seamstress,
As she scatters a cup full of pins to *****.

So the rainfall here is near to me,
With a sound I hold, above all else, most dear to me.

Pouring rain,
Heavy hearts,
Human minds.

Falling down,
I remind,
You of me.

Puddling,
In the streets,
Of Aberdeen.

Scottish eyes,
Over me,
The North Sea.

Split apart,
Come to meet,
Locally.

Heavy clouds,
Pouring in,
Out of me.

Would you ever,
Meet with me,
In Aberdeen?

Be as one,
We would be,
Don and Dee.

Sourness escapes my lips,
Pulling tails around my waist,
Into my oldest shoes I slip,
Italian beasts from a bygone age.

My eyes are full of nothing today,
That is except for weariness,
And perhaps a little tiny streak,
Of something resembling  belligerence.

My clock was screaming out dismay,
And I displaced it on a whim,
Desperately searching for a way,
To snooze until a different day.

But no sirree that couldn't be me,
Because this morning I believe,
That I've too much reliability,
To let such sourness ruin me.

Indicators of the night sky, bursting bright.
The kind of bugs which glow so brightly it must surely hurt their buggy eyes.
In the summertime they come alive, to illuminate the dark of night.
And slowly wake by no mistake, to congregate and enjoy their lives.
Because they are the fireflies and it's with the summer they coincide.
Like a lightning storm or an electric hive, they soar as more than just common flies.
Perhaps the owl of old was right when he said that you wouldn't believe your eyes,
At the ten of millions of indicators, burning across the open sky.

Deep into the evening, on such a day as this,
An unfathomable amount of whispers escape your lips.

Mostly quiet things pulled straight from the heart.
Like a shot of whiskey, honest and warm.

Like a song of time on the radio,
It's slowly in time that I must let you go.

Like a dulcet strum, so I heard your last sound.
Be it far away at the edge of town.

And yet echoing as your voice is now,
I hear both your heart and mind call out.

Begging me to whisper you free,
And remember you as you always wanted to be.

Pinwheel,
Clock work,
Chronoshift me into blue.

Skyline,
Ocean eyes,
Color me a different hue.

Liquify,
Shatter me.
Meld me out of broken glass,

Enter me,
Exit please,
Fore the present comes to past.

Reaching out,
I pull her closer to me than ever,
Her back to my front as we mold together.

Like a pair of spoons on a table top,
My arm around her waist to stop her every shake.
Embedded in my warm embrace.

I hear her breath caress the air,
And smell the fragrance of her hair.
Little does she know that I desire whatever scent she wears.

Obscured by shadows her sleeping face.
I need not see to know that she,
Is in love at least with my embrace.

So tender and so tremendous.
Her warmth the most magnificent,
Of every feeling to be expressed.

By sleeping beauty I'm the beast,
Her heart a steady soothing beat.
Though intoxicating as she may be,
I only desire her next to me.

Don't wake me please from such a dream,
For she is the fairest girl I've seen.
With longing eyes of crystalline,
And a whisper soothing as a stream.

How could I ever let her go,
Perhaps if somehow she did know.
That my embrace holds all of me,
And to break that bond is to shatter me.  

Though the clock may say it's time to leave.
I hope that in my embrace she'll stay,
Forever right here next to me.


Image Via: Google Search

With heavy parchment and parted ink,
My pen calls out to your wandering mind.

Breathing in the dark of night,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fire burning in the dark,
I cut the heavy fog of time.

If only with purpose would beat my heart,
Your oxygen would keep me alive.

Before our dawn could even start,
We reach the end of this cotton line.

Although in time we're torn apart,
Your oxygen keeps me alive.

Like a fleeting wisp you were to me,
Like a curl of smoke from a bed of pine.

Yet until this letter I complete,
Your oxygen will keep me alive.

Though weary eyes are still worth seeing,
Sometimes the sight isn't worth the time.

I'd encourage you instead to rest,
And escape from yourself within your mind.

Just go close your eyes and be at peace,
Embrace the darkness with remind.

Like a weary ball of worn out string,
Sleep quietly until you unwind.

Buttons couldn't describe you,
Nor a picture or portrait to compare.
Your smile indescribable,
Neath iron straightened golden hair.

A shadow in your eyes I see,
Your arm inscribed serendipity.
An unforgotten commodity,
An awe inspired oddity,
But what aspires you to me,
Is the winding way your eyes did see.

Before the corner first was turned,
Before the present came to be.
What was the sight which turned your way?
What overshadowed your luminosity?

I wish my friend that you would smile,
For everyone not just for me.
In light of this stay positive,
And smile miss serendipity.

Look into my eyes and see whatever you can.
For I have passed over,
And I become the former friend.

Though before you my feet may shimmer and stand.
You cannot see the path before me,
Nor the direction which my heart demands.

Like a wanderer, I'm an invisible man.
Standing beside the traveling son,
With the comrades in their own travelin band.

The rugged, the ragged, the weary souls.
Such tiresome eyes will always know,
What the steady feet will not understand,

So look into my eyes and see,
Whatever it is,
Whatever you can.

With solemn eyes I look and see,
The person I think I could be.

Not a suit nor a tie or an in between,
But a passionate man of many things.

I think, I am, I create to be,
A person who expects more of me.

Though rolled up my sleeves are not unique,
I want much more than this present me.

My heart is in the shadows,
Though my eyes are on the sky.

Full of light, aware of darkness,
Amidst these hallways where I hide.

Behind the walls and whitewashed doors,
My alter ego the other side.

A phantom man I have ignored,
A different person I've entwined.

A gentle guy who gives you things,
The grounded soul which yearns to fly.

And though the shadows slowly seep,
It's here they meet and coincide.

To form the future and the present,
To sort the truth and dispel lies.

Because in the shadows I've risen,
But in the light is where I'll rise.

My head it aches, like a Halo wrapped tightly around my head.
Like an angel who tried to pull the wool around me, but now I wear his crown instead.

Pressuring me, my every thought, pounding beats out like a drum.
Oh metal band I bind with you, to make my wandering mind go numb.

Pull my attention back to you, you show me a hue of blue above.
On such a day when skies are gray, I crave the Raven not the Dove.

Just send me to a quiet room and remove my Halo from above.
These former halves no longer two, the pain humanity hates yet loves.

Pulling attention back to you, demanding time and time again,
That I lose sight and sacrifice my focus on the task at hand.

Depart from me oh aching head, let me for a moment begin again.
To see the morning without hindrance, and be the mind I've always been.

Comfy seats, yellow walls, hot coffee and Chai tea.
Tall tumblers filled with ice, and faces warm, quiet and friendly.
A rugged sign hangs just outside, to welcome those who are hungry.
If golden treasure lies inside, this Naked Egg is such a treat.
Now's not the time to question taste, you could pick at random for goodness sake.
There isn't an item on the menu the wouldn't make most clean their plate.
Sidewinder fries await inside, a torte, a Florentine, a bean.
The whole farm perhaps for your appetite, or a western omelet smoked with cheese.
New deli items await your taste, just choose your meat after a certain time.
And if your cup is ever in need, they'll refill your teapot every time.
Don't be a hot mess, just order one, and you'll be happy that you've come.
To be at the Naked Egg you see, is to see how flavorful life can be.

Stand with me on the top of the Earth,
Look down into the valley of History.
See both the young man I always was,
And the young man I will always be.

Should I ever fall or quietly break,
Or even be thought to have ran away.
Stand here and be among the trees,
Look down on the earth and you'll see me.

Looking for validation and affirmation in the entirely wrong places, will always leave you feeling unsuccessful and totally decimated.

Crushed and devalued by the plans you didn't make, as your focus is derailed by the paths you didn't take.

Because you cannot progress without true motivation to improve your daily situation.

For this you must act on evaluation and ignore the masses of any nation, which insists that you can do anything, within certain limitations.

Who are they to know you and why you even exist within creation?

Just do as you feel called to do and you might just find your inspiration.

Only then will you have a chance at redeeming and receiving the aforementioned words of affirmation.

Because you need to be true to you, to find your truest motivation.

Someday I'll walk down this dusty road,
And you'll never again see the likes of me.

Amidst my flight I won't turn around,
I won't even be tempted to take a glance back at you, my history.

Because you are nothing more to me than a memory.
Which is stored away inside the cavity I call my mind.

I would pass you by in another life,
Because you do not value the values of mine.

I lied, I tried, and sacrificed the important parts of me to try,
And complete the whole of you inside.

When really this wasn't my place to stay,
And the soles of my shoes were just passing through.

At the end of this road, I will keep my word,
I will walk away, slowly from you.

Lonesome tree,
Left to stand in a field of green.

You are as free as free can be, at least as much as a tree can be.

You’re the sole survivor of a proud oak line,
And the tallest timber I’ve ever seen in this area of the countryside.

Only you have lived long enough to see the red sunrise.
The lidless moon and the eye of the storm sent by the sea.

It baffles me, that you a tree, would watch over a farmer and his family.
Your rightful and natural enemy, who pushes the plow beneath your feet.

Surrounded by a society which cuts down all of your company,
Just to build and sow with lesser seeds.  

And yet you, the mightiest of trees, refuse to pack up root and leave?
Refuse to let yourself be twisted by the progress of humanity.

Why are you doing this?

I guess no greater love exists,
Than to share your shade with your enemies.

Thank you for this, oh lonesome tree,
You are a symbol of life to me.

Prestige with me most humbly,
As I paint you a picture never before seen.

Hear my words before I speak,
And gravitate ever so slightly towards the edge of your seat.
Such magical words do not come with ease.

They are the result of craft and timeless tries.
Again and again to coincide,
Within the lock and key inside.

Yet I escaped like Harry the great,
Call me a magician by twist of fate.

So I shuffle the words for all to see,
And deal them out most graciously.

Captivating the audience,
I line the Jacks in rows and stacks.

Only to quietly turn them back,
Into the deck where I escaped,
Into my hand which hold their fates.

And hopefully by watching me the crowd escapes,
Into the the purely predestined fate,
Into the magnificence I create.

There will always be stupid people wherever you go.
And you'll always have to deal with them within whatever you do.
Stupid people are unavoidable,
They're like the tides, ***** dishes, or the flu.
But when you finally get to do something that you actually want to do.
It won't matter quite as much whatever the stupid people do.
They may be obnoxious or annoying,
But that shouldn't matter to you.
Because you're doing what you're doing,
As compared to something you weren't meant to do.
You see stupid people are everywhere,
And they shouldn't influence you.
Just let the stupid people go,
So that you don't become stupid too.

Snuffed out,
Like a candle in the thrashing wind.
Your body breaks,
And we yearn for you and fade away.

Into the night,
Until the moment just before the light springs out.
We dream of you as you drift away,
Into the song.

Within this place,
A gift of sound and kind embrace.
A lover still of life and light.
Your life illuminates the darkest night.

Glowing was your every sound,
Radiant your very sight.
Your smile wider than the sun,
You voiced the passion of this life.

A candle burning fierce and fast,
Not at both ends,
But in our hearts Christina,
You will always last the night.

Poetry should be like boxing,
Short, swift, and powerful.
To the point and presented so that you never see it coming.
A hook, a jab, a firm right cross.
Hard hitting and unforgiving,
Never what you are expecting.
Watch it on your cable boxes,
Cheer and scream till you're obnoxious,
Because poetry should be like boxing.

Look outside with the brightness that is within my eyes.

Taste the tea that is warm and sweet. Vanilla flavored.

Hear the song playing within my ears. It resonates.

As the songbirds fly in the Cloudy skies overhead.

The leafing trees waving eagerly, bidding that we both step outside.

Into the woods and wild lives of other eyes.

Don't be afraid of the unborn seed. It germinates.

Growing us both taller than the trees.

For love is in the sights and scenes which we both have seen.

Such moments are not gone forever, they will return.
They are on hiatus.
Taking a break from the stranded places in the tapestry of life.

I am weaving, working my way onward.
Walking the path towards a certain someone.
Who someday I might just be able to call my own, my wife.

You taint my eyes,
You stain my heart.
You turn me like a bottle of wine in the darkest cellar.

You sound like me,
So quietly we drift,
Like the tides apart.

Like a somber tune for a sober sight,
Devoid in fact we are the light,
The tinder waiting patiently to spark.

With only the trees to reconcile,
Dark is the shadow at the back of your eyes.

And yet gentle are your fingertips,
As you caress the quiet strings.

Like the whims of the willow and the harp.
You color my tainted tear stained heart.

Am I dreaming again?
I don't honestly know.
With my tall frame a twist,
And you on your toes.

That one kiss shattered time,
And yet held it in place.
These old light posts remain,
Having witnessed embrace.

Not another in sight,
To have seen what we'd see.
Your lips resting on mine,
Beneath wood and the green.

In that moment my friend,
The earth did cease to spin,
In that moment it held,
And I kissed her again.

Don't challenge me, I am not a machine. I am flesh and blood and a heart which beats, twice as fast as the former me. Hence why these words speed rhythmically from within my cheek.

One day my friend, one day maybe, you will spit my name from between your teeth. As I show you just how many mysteries can reside inside a man such as me.

Young wild and free, with intuitive eyes I often see, what others can only try and perceive. Attempt to hide, and shroud your mind in structured subtlety.

Overt your eyes away from mine, if you do not wish for me to see. Because this is the gift God has given me. And to not use it is to deny both the former and the present me. Like the blue in my eyes, know this. I see.

Deep, somber, reflective pools.
Stirring by an ocean of blueish gray.
Vast as the mountain and all of its roots,
Clear and deceptive as the piercing light on a cloudy day.

Not flustered by the coming storm,
But troubled instead when it is blown off its course and swept away.
Unshaken by the torrential downpour of warming rain.
For cool inside they will ever stay.

Such pools as these are ripples away from some escape.
Yet when all other pools would've walked away,
They stir themselves and still remain.
Fixed and introspective.

Much like the tides which arrive anew with each coming day.
These waters rise and though they reach,
The wonder and bewilderment is never washed away.
From within such pools.

My shoes are empty, no rhythm or beat to fill the soles.
My energy tank is drained and dry,
And my crutch, my sugar, is attempting to consume me whole.

I push for something, try and try,
But designs escape me everytime.
As time reveals that I am tired, and tested by my own desire.

I beg for sleep to make me whole,
And yet I must and must persist.
To fight the battles new and old, and find my way throughout the mist.

I persevere and do persist to pull my art out of nothingness.
Until the sun on this day sets,
I will create until I rest.

His eyes implied, as he placed his hand on the windowsill, same as mine.
Just resting on the other side of a sheet of glass.
Much stood between the two of us.
Though back in time there was no distance which could separate our minds.
Once torn away, how did my pain reflect the same, inside and out?
How did our moment slip away like the quiet night?
My attempts in vain to remove the stain of the sacred heart.
His departing train which waivers in the snows embrace.
And bears my hopes for us away, into the dawn. Into the garish light of day.
I wait for him in the station stained with falling snow.
Until the time has stripped away the bitter cold.
And only memory remains, to find my hand and gently hold.

They are dying for it, they are bleeding for it, they are begging for it. And yet it will not come.

Like pure water from a well of mud, I dig for those who cannot drink, and wait with those who thirst on their own.

I am disgusted by those who flaunt it. By those who pour their wasted water out and splash it down upon the stones.

So cold and careless. They care nothing for the crowded rooms, filled with those who stand alone.

Though other introverts may shy, I will learn to appreciate such things.

I will link experience to metaphor, and liken this noise to the birds which sing.

Some unaccompanied, and some with voice. Some with the lyr atop the strings.

I learn this though its not in nature. We humans are such fascinating things.

This day is like the pouring rain, heavy falling and hard to swallow.
Dark as the memory of an old embrace,
Cold and mellow, like the cousin of a summer day.

Yet within this rain we are unchanged, just not the same.
I see the water as it cascades,
And floods the streets, to wipe the dogged dirt away.

It’s in my ears, it's on my mind, like a booming sigh.
The raindrops on the soggy ground.
Flooded I am washed away, but not far enough to leave this town.

I am a bird beneath the waves
Though it be dark and blue and deep
My wings are not best suited to the sea

Though lofty heights are known to me
It’s beneath the waves I wish to be

To see the fish and how they breathe
Through coral and the crystalline

Though I am free
With neither cast nor current in-between
I am a bird beneath the waves
I do not belong within the sea

As if deep in sleep, devoid of dreams.
It's the simple way you caress the words, which inspires me.

To write and reach, yet fall short of you.
Though your tongue paints such a vivid scene.

How could I not try and partake?
How could I not wish it to be?

I'd reach my hand through glass for you,
Just to give you words from within me.

Love is in the swell of the trees, the subtle breeze,
Which for all of its might cannot be seen.

It is love which shifts the steady feet, of the traveler.
And moves in ways unbeknownst to me.

It is love which propels the honey bee, across the field,
And back to the comb of bitter sweet.

It is love which seeps through the autumn leaves, and tumbles down.
Like the leaves before in the autumn breeze.

Revisit me my dear revised, see only me.
For I am a glutton for your eyes.
It’s deep within you've always seen,
The subtleties I've stored inside.

Said and implied, I love the way,
You scroll through each embellished line.
Besotted we were supposed to be,
An author and his beloved rhyme.

Within your book and by your side,
Is where I remain and to page I bind.
Don't leave without such fond embrace,
Or forget where we first met in mind.

Stay here instead and share my bed,
Rehearse my prose and read my rhymes.
Aloud we sound, like your favorite song.
Would you say my name just one more time?

Wild and untamed.
She stretches out, like a shadow from the base of a tree.
Features pale as the river shale, eyes cool and clear like the rushing stream.
A forest child with a wild streak.
Intent on keeping the forest free of pestilence.
She roams the earth, with a pack of wolves her pounding feet.
Yet she cares for all of the birds and beasts, as if they were her family.
Like a ghost so she appears to me, beyond trees.
Her Mononoke name be known, but behind the mask I'll never see.

This place is not my home
It's just the first place that I chose
A quiet corner of the world
A noisy hall of brick and stone

My quiet comfort is in you
A window seat, a quiet room
A place to eat beside a fire
The distant sound of passing shoes

You are both safe and insecure
Much like the students here before
I am a mark upon your wall
I am a figure behind your door

Within assignments I am tied
Within this desk I find my mind
And though my memories will fade
I hope these words surpass the time

-SS

Everyone is signing up,
Everyone is lining up,
Everyone is pairing up,
Everyone except this one.

Everyone is finding a way,
Everyone is signing away,
Everyone just runs away,
Everyone without my name.

Everyone is moving on,
Everyone has come and gone,
Everyone has better plans,
Everyone except this man.

Everyone speaks well of me,
Yet everyone still fails to see,
That everyone has gone crazy.
Everyone that is but me.

-SS

I cannot help but wonder,
About you and where you are.
A person who sees truth in me,
Behind the mask and scars.

You're someone who speaks in silence,
And someone who knows the sound,
Having heard another heartbeat,
Be it simple or profound.

Yes you have heard and you can listen,
Even if it’s just to me.
Because of who you are in earnest,
Apparent truth within your plea.

That is your words are wise and waiting,
Searching desperately to find,
Another pen another heartbeat,
To match your own in ink and mind.

-SS

The waitress asks what will it be
And I respond with quite ease
No dish or side this time for me
But a cup of tea if you would please

Though graciously she does agree
That half past two is time for tea
She soon returns with what I need
A cup of tea if you would please

A purple *** she sets by me
With spoon to stir the boiling tea
I calmly raise my cup to thee
To a cup of tea if you would please

As wisps of steam drift up with ease
The rolling in my tum decrees
This chai delight empowers me
A cup of tea if you would please

No sugar will I ever need
To taste the apple and the seed
The spice of life which sets me free
Just a cup of tea if you would please

Now comes my check it's time to leave
And the bottom of my cup I see
One final sip to go with me
A cup of tea if you would please

-SS

Your honor is written on my arm,
It walks with me through every day.

Beside and through the sharpest thorns,
Your ink will never be stripped away.

Engraved within, beneath my skin,
Your color my veins a certain way.

For you are the honor upon my arm,
And on my arm there you will stay.

-SS

True reflections appeal to me
Like the churning waters of the Atlantic
I am lost amidst the vastness of this deep blue sea

I think therefor I am and hope that I will ever be
A clever well of reflective waters
The kind that people always seek

And yet I search for you in streams
Because I thirst and need to drink
Your words in deep which comfort and compose the likes of me

No other soul will see you shimmer neath the snow capped mountain peaks
And so I stoop to catch your fragrance
And drink you in a draught so deep

-SS

Darling verse would you distract me?
Take me away from this wretched place,
And return to me my sense of self?

Restore my mind and all that it holds,
Rekindle a fire within my veins.
And bring me back to the days of old?

To a time when life was young and alive.
To a life that I lived on the other side,
Of this placid coin, would you turn once again?

And restore to me to my place amongst men?
Would you bring me back to this present day,
And then gather my sorrows to whisk them away?

-SS

A cylinder of burning flame, standing tall in the dead of night.
With wisping smoke and warming waves I radiate.
Emulating the fires of old, which charred the brick and mortar stone of a fireplace.
Like the flames which gave you first your warmth, turn now to me.
A fiery ember burning fast, a glutton for your oxygen.
My lifeless love will ever last.
Until the waters poured upon me turns the lye from Phoenix ash.
I am your love.
Your lonesome fire.
A comet in the sky to pass.

-SS

The kind of flakes which catch your eyelashes and make you blink.
Obnoxious yet beautiful things.
The dragonflies of a December night on an April day.
Yet as close as we are now to May,
There's no delight in dragonflies of frosted ice.
You catch my eye,
And land upon my windshield just to be scraped away.
Goodbye spring day,
Let us welcome back the winters bite of a dragonfly,
Which flew away.

-SS

There is beauty in the meadow,
In the trees and in the sky.
There is beauty in her hair,
And in her lavished auburn eyes.

There is beauty in the summer,
There is beauty in the fall.
And there is beauty in her manner,
And her voice with which she calls.

For there is beauty all around us,
And there is beauty to be found,
And yet the beauty which I seek,
Is not so visibly abound.

It is a beautiful enticement.
A clever thought revealed in time.
For what I want is beyond vision,
And what I seek is within mind.

-SS