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Apr 2019 · 306
Ringing
Dalton Bauder Apr 2019
Maybe I should have picked up my phone
And just called
Instead of thinking about you
from time to time,
As if you were not already
Listening,
Waiting to answer.

Sometimes sh*t don’t make any sense,
It’s all about the way it comes across
Or maybe the way that it doesn’t
even leave my head
half the time.

How should I put it,
perhaps,
other heads don’t always
work like mine does.
4/25/19
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
Dysgeusia
Dalton Bauder Nov 2013
your flavor is acidic,
sharp & sweet like lemonade,
& we play a symphony
with violin-hearts,
resonate.

you are the moment of rest
between every breath;
you’re there when you’re not,
I’m lost
when you leave.

where dreams and life collide;
leave your weary bones behind
time has it’s own heartbeat;
every gear will turn, in time
i don’t believe in miracles,
but i believe in you.
Oct 2013 · 1.2k
the problem of induction
Dalton Bauder Oct 2013
do you have your wits about you
when you climb into your bed?
do you pray for better days
as you try to clear your head?

we are all the same someway,
i assure you.
though we try to find a way
to ignore the truth.

as the huddled masses gather
and try to find their grace,
they tell of one to saves us,
to take us from this place;
but somehow still the tears, they fall
and they gather by the graves
of the ones that never made it,
introduced to unexpected fate

where have we gone?
where are going?
you can’t it take it from us
please, don’t take it from us.

not this.
Sep 2013 · 845
lost in translation
Dalton Bauder Sep 2013
by the gleam of idols,
governed,
minds’ defied;
no sanctuary
untouched
by their guise

disguising love as god;
a masquerading truth,
entailed with
the cycle
of the moon.

around and around
the shepherds lead
lost souls,
hung on hooks
by fishers of men
Sep 2013 · 1.6k
honeycomb
Dalton Bauder Sep 2013
cerebral collation,
the flesh of gods;
in amiable display
of communion.

communion of worlds.

raptured in a savor
of unity; unbounded
within our ceremony.
to unearth
the creed
of man
and beast.
collation |kəˈlāSHən, kō-, kä-|
noun
a light, informal meal.
• (in the Roman Catholic Church) a light meal allowed during a fast.
Sep 2013 · 1.8k
pontius pilate
Dalton Bauder Sep 2013
a gathering;
parietal.
upon the hill.

where truth beguiled,
and brightened by
the suns of gods;
crucified...

somehow
outshone by
the light of our skin.

where
the dagger rests,
now sleeping
in the flesh;
the blood of martyrs
was not enough
for the black sky
over Golgotha.

oh father,
forgive us
for we know not what
we do.
"parietal" pəˈrīətəl/ -  is a reference to the bones that create the side and roof of the skull (not fully developed at birth in the human body); Skull being a secondary reference to Golgotha, the location of the crucifixion Jesus Christ.

this poem is a heavily allegorical.
Dalton Bauder Sep 2013
there is no silence within you;
and still, no place to resonate.
amidst a flash of deja vu,
how could you form
your own escape?

chastised tongues
are bathed in blood;
salt the wounds now,
as she weeps.
the truth rebuked
in sacrifice;
what does it mean
to truly sleep?

the vivid recount,
you’ve been here before
familiar sounds,
foreign allure.
do halted hearts
liberate souls?
is your last breath
even your own?

dreams
dreams of black and gold
remnants of arson;
smoldered coals.
dreams
dreams of severed souls
lavish closets;
empty homes
a poem for the light-hearted.
Sep 2013 · 539
untitled (10w)
Dalton Bauder Sep 2013
she is precisely
the poem
that I aspire
to write.
Aug 2013 · 1.3k
bulb
Dalton Bauder Aug 2013
the world around me is changing,
gaged to see if i keep up.
I tend to think the ground is sinking,
so i’ve buried all my luck.
but gears are shifting,
though it is not time that they must keep;
[but] machinery of dreams
when i should hold the hand of sleep
into a place where no one
could have ever even known
the shades of every color
that now decorate my soul.
the spectrum of the source
now shining through
to make me whole,
I reach beyond dimensions;
make the light into my home.
Aug 2013 · 883
panoptic
Dalton Bauder Aug 2013
in what archaic light
might i be made to be seen pure?
when shadows will not taint
the progress of a life reborn
& what projection may impart
the whole of what i truly am?
in what dimension might we see
outside of where the fringes end?

to recognize a truth
how can we say we know it’s path?
when even light may bend and ruse,
deceive the structures of the past.
to awaken any hope,
hold fast to faith in what you know,
but even that is made like sand
elapsed, with no hands made to hold

unbound by words or thoughts alone,
the spirit flies above the sea
& language foreign to the earth,
can somehow now make sense to me.
the ancient life, known before birth,
the way we were before;
is somehow still a flick'ring flame
that burns forevermore.

so cast your burdens to the wind
that carries our hearts home.
a vast new force from deep within
has overturned all stones.
within the currents,
all encompassed progress, not our own.
as galaxies may shift,
so may all hearts become one home.
panoptic |paˈnäptik|
adjective
showing or seeing the whole at one view: a panoptic aerial view.
Aug 2013 · 946
postal
Dalton Bauder Aug 2013
I can feel the weight that is contained within your bones
all packaged up and then delivered right into my home;
a heaviness that carries with you even when you go.
i feel it in my chest where i once thought there'd be a hole.

and i will carry with me all the weight that you have left
for it will be an anchor to the flight within my chest
and it will be the difference between us and all the rest;
when we can bear between us that which weights upon
our best contest.
i don't write many reaction pieces, but this would be one of them
Jul 2013 · 851
vnder kast
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
reaching out for empty spaces;
[but] paralyzed in fear
the knotted head contorts the faces,
death is all to hear;
the dying breath of long lost dreams
left scattered beyond reach
& the daunting laugh of all the demons
in their victory.
left frozen by the hands of time
in darkness more than black,
engulfing more than just the mind;
there is no turning back.
Jul 2013 · 867
heavy skulls
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
beyond the ticking of the clocks,
i am undressed and out of touch.
embracing only fleeting thoughts
and the sound of my own breath.

yet there you stand in candle-light
with your hands upon your breast
and what a strange, familiar sight;
to know what lies within that chest.

the morning, oh she cries to come
awaken me from weary dreams,
without that lover’s heartbeat hum
i wish was resting softly, beside me.
Jul 2013 · 827
tell-tale
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
a shivering reminder of the things I’d done before,
the man that had been buried is protruding from the floor.
awakened by the stirring of the sounds that had been made
the man I thought was dead, it seems, may now be here to stay.
his tender wounds beneath the skin are still trying to heal;
but the vessel cannot heave the weight, the blood cannot congeal.
this man the world has made of me is not who I’m to be,
the gangling creature looming in the shadows over me.
not quite a demon, nor a guardian of any sort;
this mimicry of me is now beginning to contort.
a mockery of what once was, I must confess, it’s close.
to the impression i must make, when feeling quite morose
...
but once I can transform my heart to harbor in its plight
the center will unfold and be revealed within the light.
i only noticed after the fact how well this follows the theme of 'a tell-tale heart' by E. A. Poe. sort of eerie.
Jul 2013 · 947
tipping the hourglass
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
I watch the lines gently divide
and slowly make my way inside
the fringes of this path of time
that I have called my own.

I chase my dreams with certainty,
but what will come to be, will be
unchanged by what I choose to see,
unshaken by my goals.

with wond’ring eyes i come to find
that what was once clearly defined
is now a figment of my mind,
that dreams have surely grown

i’ve made my own reality,
now casting blame unto the sea;
it's swallowed by eternity.
the tides forever rise.
sometimes it's difficult to know that things will get better, but they will.
Jul 2013 · 707
a new monocle
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
what spawn of madness lies behind the crooked lens
chains tied to the entropy of ends
chaos bound to nothing but ourselves;
now unfolding fate that we’ve propelled.
somehow now, beyond the folds
withholding beyond reach;
the light of every star unknown
will rapture; be unleashed.
so I may bend and break the lines
of all the rules they teach
i’ve made my own,
this world is mine,
no longer shall I sleep.
Jul 2013 · 449
the hardest part
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
knowing
that i am                                                               ­                           and you are
here                                                         ­                                           there
is
sad
because
time flies so quickly when you are beside me,
but seconds
pass as hours
when you are not.
Jul 2013 · 1.3k
sucking lemons
Dalton Bauder Jul 2013
i’ve painted gentle pictures on the insides of my mind;
with a water-colored brush, no sense of where to end the lines,
without periphery to guide me, no direction to define
and even less, a sense of definition to entice my eyes.

but as the paint would splatter, there was always more to go,
and once her lovely darling eyes would ask me,
i would find new things to show,
as if they were becoming
an alignment with my own,
she was the only thing that told me
i could find my own lost soul.

and that’s perhaps the reason why
she could not stay to see
if she could be the one
to really help myself find me.

but i’ll always be
...searching,
for more
of it
Jun 2013 · 413
i cannot surrender (10w)
Dalton Bauder Jun 2013
when hope has a chance
i will soften my heart
for you
May 2013 · 608
momentary (10w)
Dalton Bauder May 2013
for once,
no words.
only feelings,
and their intimate
communications
May 2013 · 990
reciprocal
Dalton Bauder May 2013
trust is like a mirror’s lust
to convey only truth;
to portray even clearer views
of what remains astute.
and in its path;
beholder’s eyes
are searching for the roots;
reminded of the innocence
protected by their youth

but left with only what is there
the self observed is unaware
and though reflections seem to move;
at truth you’re made to stare.
|riˈsiprəkəl|
adjective
1 given, felt, or done in return: he was hoping for some reciprocal comment or gesture.
2 (of an agreement or obligation) bearing on or binding each of two parties equally: the treaty is a bilateral commitment with reciprocal rights and duties.
• Grammar (of a pronoun or verb) expressing mutual action or relationship.
3 (of a course or bearing) differing from a given course or bearing by 180 degrees.
4 Mathematics (of a quantity or function) related to another so that their product is one.
May 2013 · 369
grey
Dalton Bauder May 2013
there are no walls
inside your mind.
there are no lines
to walk beside;
in counting days
or tracing time
these lines are made
to seem defined,
but no such thing
could ever be
in minds that
furrow infinitely
there are many people far too focused on the black and white to perceive the wonderful space in between, where we may even become part of other people, and they of us.
May 2013 · 372
10,000
Dalton Bauder May 2013
ten thousand suns
could not shine through
all of the ****
that i’ve been through
but still ten thousand stars
bow to **one mind
we are of light
May 2013 · 679
paradigm
Dalton Bauder May 2013
you’re insecure, just like your mother
and she like her mother.
and i’m a lover without a lover,
living in the shadow
of an empty father.

we were both afraid that we’d fail at love
just like our parents; where we came from,

unsure of how much
that defines
of ourselves.

i’m still trying to make sense of myself.

and so were you
and so we fed
on each other’s
uncertainty
still never being certain
of whether or not it was
even happening,

convinced that
we were creating
an assurance
of self
inside
the other.
She's the song I replay until I know all the words and I feel sick.
I can’t sleep because I can still taste her in my mouth.
May 2013 · 820
about-face
Dalton Bauder May 2013
as the weary morning lifts her head
her sleepy ***** wakes;
and dreamy eyes will wonder on,
apart from memories she's made.
engulfed by newly realized dreams,
her mind will not capitulate.
in something now she hides her key,
no lock could ever make her stay
capitulate |kəˈpiCHəˌlāt|
verb [ no obj. ]
cease to resist an opponent or an unwelcome demand; surrender: the patriots had to capitulate to the enemy forces.
May 2013 · 311
untitled (10w)
Dalton Bauder May 2013
do animals
have less fear
because they live
without
words
May 2013 · 457
the past (10w)
Dalton Bauder May 2013
is an unparalleled

gravity


pulling you



away




from





right






now
never lose sight of the goal.
May 2013 · 1.8k
eye
Dalton Bauder May 2013
eye
in perfect motion, lost in time,
I subdivide the outer lines.
the enigmatic parallax;
dilation of the centered mind.

microbial in grander schemes,
my breath is born to exit me,
inhale the holy entity;
become the dreams
in vivid scheme.

intrinsic shapes of destiny
envelop my entire being;
a calculated entropy
that grants subconscious unity.
magnified, this smoke will bleed
into my every living deed,
tied into every breath i breathe
I stretch my being; exude peace.

I’m only what I dream to be,
as I ask myself to pray for me.
Apr 2013 · 968
gnossienne
Dalton Bauder Apr 2013
if you don’t have the map
then what is it i’m trying to find?
you’ve left me deep within
the corridors of your uncharted mind.

without a single room unlocked,
engulfed by boldly ticking clocks
your shadows come to strangle me
and cover every step i walk.
...
i’m choking; as i gasp to breathe
these demons tower over me,
your mind is locked from the inside;
no doorway out, no way to flee

these moving walls are closing in
they’ve got to swallow me up whole.
the sacrifice that must be made
shall claim my body as it’s toll.

yet even still i’m in your head
the lucid harbinger of dreams;
a watchmen over blackened hearts;
the life within the planted seed.

if i were you,
how could it be,
that we would stand as enemies?
if you were me,
we’d clearly see
the roots of every
selfish deed.
gnossienne
n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life, and somewhere in the hallways of their personality is a door locked from the inside, a stairway leading to a wing of the house that you’ve never fully explored—an unfinished attic that will remain maddeningly unknowable to you, because ultimately neither of you has a map, or a master key, or any way of knowing exactly where you stand.
Apr 2013 · 557
point
Dalton Bauder Apr 2013
be still

there is a flicker in your heart.
your wick will not contend,

the binding is secure.

here nothing moves.
where fire, consumes;
subconsciously project the light.
be known, in truth
mountains will move
but there will always be a fight.

so tether not your searing soul;
as only your hands can remove.
hot as the sun on ancient sand
burn brightly,
keep your head held high.
Apr 2013 · 1.0k
aorta
Dalton Bauder Apr 2013
you’re stuck inside the web;
theres too much tangled in my head.
im wrapped up in my thoughts again,
left dusting all the old cobwebs
from every subtle angle that
i hadn’t noticed you leave your caress;
you left your fingerprints in black
and pressed all up and down my chest,
where they might fill the empty space
and replace all that i had left,
but that’d been carved of replete stone
and so it can’t ever come back.

but somehow still my arms outstretch,
just waiting for your blood red hands
to come devour the last of it,
to sink your teeth
because you can.
Apr 2013 · 417
in the exchange (10w)
Dalton Bauder Apr 2013
can one honestly apologize
for misery
that isn’t fully understood
or must one
fabricate, to compensate
for everything that's lost
Apr 2013 · 493
no kiss
Dalton Bauder Apr 2013
there are blacker shadows still
than those you’ve made your way inside.
in every corner, dressed to ****
lurks every demon that you hide;
and you may walk quite a fine line
but how dense is your great divide,
and is your gravity enough to take from me
what has so long been mine?

concurrently, the thorny rose has made its cuts run deep
and while it cannot be uprooted, still it must submit to sleep;
and in its sleepy daze the only truth that blossoms from its stem
is that the truth is but a tool that’s forged by us and used by them.

a gallery of faces now to choose that hazy mask,
wherein the mystery supplied will quickly shift and never last.
and though i’ve gathered it up once,
it seems a necessary place
inside this junction between where your heart once was,
and empty space

i have lost my faith in love
when i lost my favorite one
no kiss, no kiss, no kiss.
self control leads to external control.
Feb 2013 · 495
precision (10w)
Dalton Bauder Feb 2013
words are not enough
they always present such skewed connotations.
Feb 2013 · 909
portals
Dalton Bauder Feb 2013
the bread alone must be devoured,
we swallow all our sins
to feed the purple petaled flower
blossoming within.
with roots that mingle with the trees;
come see my holy shrine
I've brought my hearts deep rhythmic beat
to this plane from my mind.
as moonlight penetrates the soul,
the blue eye illuminates;
behold the great concentric hole
found in all shadows wake
cyclonic swirl can welcome home
the sines that hold our place
the frequency disruption rolling,
shaking time and space. 

I've made it real, I have become
the great creations eye.
beyond the dam is liquid thought;
and my veins contain the rise

galactic arms reach out to give
connection to the streams,
great consciousness possessing
every molecule unseen.
binary skin peels back to show
the crystal prism form
as light pervades from every space;
perceptions are adorned.

the calmest storm you've ever seen
will surely make its path.
I've witnessed all that's come to be
through proper eyes at last.
Jan 2013 · 936
singularity
Dalton Bauder Jan 2013
there's anchors behind every sigh
to hold these bones in place,
and two black holes behind my eyes
that catch all spectral waves.
by faintest glare of candlelight,
I see into the soul;
the concentrated substance,
hidden deep within the folds.

time and space cannot exist,
I've rattled loose the cage.
forged in fire of molten mind
ive broken links within the chain.
tearing open doorways
to objectify my fate;
tethered bindings frayed to string,
still heaving dead hearts weight.

knots have tied my heart to yours;
keep true that steady beat.
percussive steps of progress
to invent a new machine
our blood is but the oil
to turn the gears within our chest
turn back the dial, 
expose the key,
and love congeal the rest
Jan 2013 · 781
tantrum
Dalton Bauder Jan 2013
with this self-haunting breath
I've painted walls with all my words
ive filled your ears with all my fears,
excuses you've already heard.
Ive strewn my pain across what's left
of what I destroyed all my own 
for sake of coloring the walls 
i see as monochrome and cold.

I couldn't hold it all inside
boxed in with every little lie
and now I'm slowly pushing out
all that I once said i despise.
look at me, look in my eyes
convince me I am still alive
I've made this hell out of the things
that ive held from you my whole life.
some people just need to grow up
Jan 2013 · 804
spite spitter
Dalton Bauder Jan 2013
there's grace in all humanity, but
like a dog you've lost everyones faith,
by the pain of self pity came outward disgrace,
while you become time's eternal slave.

for now heads above water,
but there's lead in your shoes,
as youre always observing the lines.
drawn out step by step
in the sand where once slept
a great ego, kept fed by your pride.

now you're patiently waiting for them to be crossed,
like a snake youve coiled yourself to spring
but your bite will not spite anyone but yourself,
as the poison's already in your veins.
if you must poison yourself in order to pass on the poison, at what point does that risk become worth the while?
Jan 2013 · 570
arachnicadian
Dalton Bauder Jan 2013
pushing out the centric whole,
this vacuum pulls my soul inside;
stitching rags with threads of gold
laid over bones too old to hide;
inside myself this vessel holds
a sense of me i’ve not contrived
made into being by the hands
that work this living threaded bind

that ghostly hand binds ribs to lung
now thickening the air i breathe,
the specters have stirred up the dust
that clouds the halo over me.
a mist of dust from the chiseled stone,
or the rust of ancient foreign locks -
concealing rooms where all is filed;
time, reason, risk and cost.

the dust will settle, still until then
i’ve solder’d soul onto my skin
there are no shadows, we’ve bathed in light
new magnet pulls through, spectrum shift turns to white.
as howls ring out, carving through stormy dune,
the sun is eclipsed by the pivotal moon.
Dec 2012 · 2.0k
redwood
Dalton Bauder Dec 2012
I cashed out all my chips
got them exchanged for all their worth,
the tattered rags upon my body
I give back unto the earth
for sacrifice to be accepted,
all my blood turns into dirt.
I don't want to be forgiven,
just loose the weight,
disperse the girth.

I've tried so hard to lift my arms,
but this body's just a curse
I've got the prison of my skin
beneath which all is coded verse 
try as I might, I can't take flight
though my head floats above the clouds
nobody hears the violent storm which springs from out my mind, so loud

convex'd, I'm hexed,
convinced that I will not find rest
the earth must feed from me
and plant it's seeds deep in my chest.
Dec 2012 · 528
doing the waltz
Dalton Bauder Dec 2012
I've been tripping over my own two feet since I got here,
and even in my thoughts these situations still somehow seem to appear
but I've gotten here
despite my fears and weary arms
spent from balancing myself between
the life I live
and who you need me to be
and from what I've seen, it's
quite a close call, as we have both been miserably mistaken many times before our hearts would collide.

it's your tenderness that keeps me here,
the heat of your breath warming my ear
as your whispers of love tickle behind my eyes,
you've climbed through my heart into my mind.
Dec 2012 · 672
old crow
Dalton Bauder Dec 2012
she loves me and my broken heart,
the tattered mess I am,
and she deserves much more
than I can give to her.

maybe it's some kind of game she plays
with placing back the shard remains
of every shattered soul she sees,
and until now she hasn't found
but one soul battered and torn as me.

it's like she's made of flower pedals, 
always coming to full bloom;
and when I hold her in my arms she moves
the monolithic structures inside me;
as if it was a breeze, just placing them aside so I can actually walk free.

or more-so, she could get to me,
it seems. i've
been out of breath for longer than I can remember
but she'll give me hers forever.
so I've got more than I'll ever need.
Dec 2012 · 638
while you sleep
Dalton Bauder Dec 2012
I'll play your ribs like a piano
hold you closer than the fibers of my own shirt, I see now how
over your chest it's draped
just like a cloth holding back the violent flames that spring out from beneath,
I can feel it in my feet,
the burning coals upon my toes
as I walk the streets of your heart,
paved with all the lovely stones you've tossed around and stepped upon.
not to mention
the brokenness you've tread from filling everyone's shoes,
even mine as I traverse you in your sleep, thinking of you as I
continue to hold back my view
of my own past,
hung from my back,
I've got a lot to learn
but I know it's always just for you.
it's always just for you.

you've made a home inside this hollow heart of mine,
down to my bones you've made a nest to come and live.
and I can't thank you enough for making me whole again.
Nov 2012 · 660
warm
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
the way you love me is softer than the pillow beneath me,
as I lay and dream of a place we can
sink into acmatic scenes
of harmony.
yet still, there is intensity
that permeates internally.

I once believed I was incapable
to hold such love inside.
but this feeling so benign
has left that empty shell behind.

every day our fates are moved
by all the doctrines  we've made true.
and slowly ill invite the warmth,
hot as the sun, ill melt with you.
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
everything that is eternal
I hold endlessly internal
connected to the great procession,
angles came to reach full circle.
the adviatic mystery 
 is humming deep within my being
penetrating masks of fear
and bringing forth the truths I see.

approaching what was meant to be, 
a sense of self pours out of me.
intensified perplexity
contorting your peripheries.
you don't believe that I can be
this massive creature that you see,
with eyes as big as saucers,
picking up the light that
flickers behind skin.

with wishful hope of staying centered
swaying gusts of my endeavors
seek to settle down forever,
as the selfishness dissolves.
I have broken down the walls
that separate myself from you
as shifting earth will still revolve, 
wholesome love is the only truth.

& I love you.
Nov 2012 · 554
phantom magnet
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
with starkly looming, lanky limbs
angled sharply across the horizon
flocks of crows call out to him.
just the presence pulls your eyes in,
only by a frail glimpse
of prisms, caught in periphery. 

and he contorts death,
by way of shadow and mystery,
he says
"only in darkness can the light be broken down so deeply."

sharply he carves through each moment,
the presence of time so close he can hold it
and with nothing to show for it,
the weight of all is suspended,
as only he can lift it
Nov 2012 · 692
möbius reflections
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
rising from the bottom of this sea
is the bubble of my next breath
contorting itself into smaller beads
of possibilities,
rising to meet the plane of release
beyond the glimmering surface.
in angelic exodus, blood leaks
from my heart to fill
the lonely corridors
of this vessel. 

my thoughts stir like static,
white noise channeling the great beyond,
with no form to settle into.
the mirrors lie.
no hominid can contain this.
there is much more behind my eyes
than there is
in front of them.
Nov 2012 · 768
cogitation
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
I sink too deeply
into the reflections of my being
and in this pithy mirror I see
all that has become me.

tracing the fibers in reverse
every memory dispersed
churning out the eldest curse
loosely piled unspoken words

thoughts become, ubiquitously
a visual soliloquy
entwined with all the subtle dreams
that shape present realities
entrancing eyes toward morphing scenes
the air has now become a sea
of every possibility
that ever could have been

and I swim so gracefully
in the ocean of could-be's
holding onto this pristine
moment ever so closely
close enough that 
I can see
clearly
Nov 2012 · 1.1k
marionette
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
Oh pretender,
actions expose the weakness
as cold November slowly sickles
it's gangly fingers to your ribs.
your bitterness invites it in, 
the ornate facade of skin 
only hides the truth from yourself,
no one else.
Nov 2012 · 2.1k
lantern
Dalton Bauder Nov 2012
each moment perceives new ecstasies through me,
as vision locks on every shifting road
still leading home, most fervently.
percolated dreams reveal
the seeds that have been well concealed.
as each moment waves so delicately
mimicking a cloth in the breeze,
in the breath of an exhale 
a future is foreseen
within me.

boiling from me is
the steam of my awareness,
as the torch within now flares.
flowing gently into the air I breathe,
consciousness solidifies chemically;
vibrant harmony extends,
as minds eye stares.
at this place inside me
where I will dwell eternally,
embracing all I've made.
despite a razor thin gaze,

all roads lead home.
never forget
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