Eternity goes by in the blink of an eye
When there’s nothing but darkness

When it all calls
But no one is present to answer
Because they're fast asleep
Within their beds of blissful ignorances
As time gently closes the door
On their smiling countenances
Forever within the peace
Of their love's slumbering hearts

Were you there?

I know I was

And I think I saw you too

Why did you shy away from me?

Why would I do the same thing too?

There's not much that I ask of you

But when you try to **** me

I can't help but to feel the innate need to vocalize my extreme displeasure

Draw me a—new.

(written drunk)

I rather turn into a bouquet of flowers then a basket of roses...

If that means anything to you then do what ever you will do.

Smiley.

Playing off of Shakespeare seems to be the case...

I don't know you.
You don't know me.

"I" Which I often said in life.

I’m in awe that I can not write fast enough for me to ask a question within myself, but on my thoughts they will be.

I'm just a remembrance of me that I'm trying to describe at a later time, but isn't that how it feels all the time?

Living in a moment just so later we can watch that moment unwind.

I wonder, when will time look me up?

Is it just inside of a thought--just within this dream; my own mind?

Reality plays coy when it must and a wild current when it wills itself to be.

But still this is real.

Looking above the fences of offences to try to see the luscious garden on the other side; the mind that gets filtered through the soul so as to put circumstances to the side and say what "I" really mean.

I'm me and I know what I mean and as I write me to know me I become me to explain it to me, and of me, to get to the meaning of what it truly means to be an I.

It shouldn't be hard ?

Should it?

You already exist

And that's already

Past your means


Do you know what I mean?

Internet usage is like a labyrinth
That leads your mind’s consciousness
Through its projections.

Stimulating,
Yes,
But nevertheless,
One can hardly resist getting lost
Within its intellectual maze.

Can it be used for beneficial means?
It would be near impossible
To find one who’d disagree.

But choose wisely,
You see,
For what entertains
Posthastes
Life’s wastes.

Know when to disconnect,
Or you may find
You spent your entire life’s time
Lost within its never ending
Vortex of distractions.

You’ll become
Just another one
Of the Spider’s flies.

A victim
Caught
Within the World’s Wide Web.

Eventually we all have to cease to fight
And the struggles of this life,
In all ways,
Leads to a peaceful night

Whether experienced within our days,
Or within our deaths
Time, lay down our arms
Until there's nothing else un-left

In relation only to himself
knows only what he can
Or what he thinks he can
Knot
He ties and a boars his prize
The hide
The island man
Has no fear to feast
No rain drops trickle for thirst's being to subside
The island man only has space to confide
Is technology up to its *****?
Does the island mind have enough for needs to be met?
Is there a need yet for island man to have not yet got?
Should island man go and get?
Island man looks for the stars
When he finds them all
Island man knows that they were never really that far
He looks back down on the clouds
And the effervescent ocean that houses his house
Island man finds himself at home
With all the other island people who love him so

(For Sure Sure)

Oh, I can see it. . .

You can see it?

Are you for sure?

I'm for sure sure.

I could see it
flickering
and shimmering
in the building's
mirrored facade. . .

When it was going off.


'Got to get there fast!

Every time someone waves a flag
They don’t understand what they are actually of

And maybe that’s enough
Maybe that’s just enough

O, champion of words

O, wisdom of gab

speak thy savory terms

of sultry endearment that makes the poet blush

and thine fairness lust

over syllables that consonants and vowels equate

so that the uneven can lie flush

and the plain can run straight

yet,

over the course of mounds of flesh

the burden stills

that within a heart,

or be it brain,

can beat and remember thrills

some left in time

and some do have weight

that over the hills

can be

the end of my commiserate