Claiming
to be
awake...

                 Though
                 dreaming
                  to be,..

                                  Is not that
                                 unusual...
                                 these days.

There is a saying;
'You remember only
what you want to remember.'
I remember the way
Sunlight played inside
Her beautiful green eyes.

to wonder where you are
contemplating, holding on,
if you only knew
reliving what's transpired
all there is left is silence

Turning any direction
Though knowing,
None do hold Avenue
Nor bliss, just reflections
Infrequent Glimpses of then
Familiar fragrances on the wind
Bitter recollections,
Irreconcilable differences,
Heartbreak,
Changes...
You, in every direction.
You echo over and over
From far away places
Forever which replay
Images of you,  from then
Such is memory
Easier these days
So far off those moments
That still surface
To be replaced sometime
Some day in the future.

I cannot predict
What I will be.
I can only live
What I am.  -  George Belts?

would have all of me
No doubt all of us.
everything,
turns out tomorrow,..

Proof will come
to surface
To be shown,
What, if all,.. if
not all,..
To be
If any of,..
like minded,
endless,
Optimistic reason.

is so to come
Then to become,
if we
miss
our way,
and though
untouched
Avatars
of our imaginations
of these
even
Is brought to us
Made then
her body
So lovely.
over
mine I beg,
And suffer
virtual longing
Hopes of
Out meeting.
The valid
potential found
In every wavelength.
Made up
of
And brought by
The first light
inches, miles,
light
minutes,
years
A borne universe
inclined
to hold its
secrets

To joke around,
Oh,..  I don't know...
How do you?
Any day,  
Any night,
This broken globe might,
Recoil back down on itself.
And the world we know,
Will only be available
When around the campfire.
When we take turns
Spinning impossible tales,
To those to new,  to little,
Innocent and too late
To know, to have lived
Once in a world without having
Passing on, how to go on with so little
Where to find another meal.
The trick to calling fire,
Who to help and those that take
All about arrows and bows,
Firing guns and survival.

You mess around now,
So secure, so very very sure,
That this might be folly
What day you when the works of man
And power falls to those with knowledge and expertise at thriving
Will they, well will I,..
Help those,  like you?

I'm doing this backwards it seems.
         This living, this life, this exhistance...
If that really is, what it is,... A gift, or a punishment?
         Similar to to *******, self gratification, that first one,..
                  Never another, not even the immediate second,..
After the first of anything,
           Has been,...  Is done,... Gets finished,...
                             Is experienced for the very first time,...
                                            The next and next and next,  the second...
              and on and on and on and on... are much much less intense.
More understood, less mysterious,... Less amazing,...  more like practice.

If I'm the guy who waits,
is there some way?
Cause here I am,
I was, I remain.
The aging clocks face,
ticks out each second passed,

and here I am regardless.

Caught up in fairy tale nostalgia,
forgiven all the wrongs,
hurt endured,
selecting only the best
and cherished
fleeting
flickers of glimpses
at night
just as I fade
to the place where you still come

there too, not always pleasant.
Sometimes I wake and ache so bad
but the cause of that is you
Will I ever turn you out,
face away?
Is this time squandered,
wasted, fruitless?
Or one day are we going to be, again?
Am I okay with no love unless,
unless...
if nothing changes,
distance remains,
who to blame
but my own cowardice.

Some day,
. . . . . . . . . one day,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . maybe,

hearts can change

"Dreamt of Murky Waters"


                                                       ­                       I have this dream
                                                           ­     In which  
                                 I am a wanderer
                                                        ­                            Dark streams,
                                                        ­ of murky water
                                   washing over.

                                                          ­                          No moon,
                                                                ­     nor stars
                             do force any boundary.

                                                      ­                             Eaten completely,
                                                     ­            pitch Black,
                                                       empty,..
                               The sky above
No means by which
                               To measure this
                                                          Th­e endlessness of time
                       Here is only the cold
                                                         Only the unforgiving

                                                    ­                             Currents flowing
                                                         ­                            Life’s murky waters
                                Endless,
                                              forever,
                                                           pouring
                                                         ­              Out of control
    Constantly pulling
                                   My head slips under
                                                           ­            Tired of fighting
                                                        ­                       I learn to let go
                                              
                                                  Sinking
                                                          beneat­h
                                                                ­    ever more
                                                            ­              Towards darkness
                                                        ­                         Inescapable abyss
                                                           ­              To unknowns below
                  
                            Into the resting place
                                                           ­    To life’s secret

                                              The true meaning of it all
                                                             ­ 
                           Letting go,
                I give myself
         I am welcomed
back home

If you look at me now,
See how I appear so small,
Crawled back up here from hell,
Were you dropped me off.
I am thirsty from the heat,
And the effort I put out,
Just to make to this place,
Above hopeless and lost,
Feeling a fraction better,
No where near the man I was,
Partially because I will not,
Open myself back up,
I’ve experienced a sort of trauma,
Dealt with loss the best I can,
Developed into this man,
Looking upward from the bottom,
Seeking the right way up,
Until I finally reach the summit,
See the sunshine,
Feel its warmth,
At last a healthy human being,
That’s not afraid of love.
Climbed this far,
For myself.

Upon imaginary wings,
Three beats beneath
Creation's favor
As lovely as You are
Truest green, your eyes,
Armoring
the secrets,
unique reasons
Your smile, isn't for me
As lovely as I let you be
As lovely as I allow
Given wings.
You above, Me?,.
Behind, beneath.
these eyes for once
See what I can find.
what needs belief
I believe,
because its you.
you can be something.
little or as grand,
As I want from you.
Someone pure.
Unique to a world,
offered up.
To You,
your beautiful face.
As I gaze up
to you,
my new heaven.
As lovely as I will never be,
As lovely as I Let you be.

If I look at this life,
At today, or tomorrow
Yesterday, I see what is behind me
I see your face, my smile
exactly the way we once were.
Still I wake up tomorrow,
another day of pretending.
This is okay, but inside denial.
more and more hollow,
the way my heart aches,
so I don't look for tomorrows.
I much rather turn around,
and look upon those yesterdays,
because right now, the next day,
they seem less worth while
They are as empty then
as they are now,
yesterday is worth my gaze.
back then was everything.

I have a heart I made of paper mache,
and, a mask made the same way.

One to fill a vacant place inside.
The other, a lie.
But they still see my eyes
behind that smiling face.

They all see my eyes.

My heart made of paper,
and, a mask I made,
to face my friends.

Because they don’t understand.

The way that the hurting they said will fade away,
Never did...
Stayed the same.

So I pretend.
I wear that face.
Smiling like they think I should.

A paper smile protects my pride.
A paper heart remains to this day.

Heart made of paper,
fills an empty place.
A paper thin mask,
I use to face each day,
smiling for me,
to make them believe...
I am okay.

I'm alone, in a dark room, playing my game
I don't need to say how long I can hold on
If i even want to try,
Now I'm afraid, yeah,,, Staying awake
In back of my mind she stays, every dream,
everytime she twists them every which way
First i'm staring at an open grave,
in the middle of cemetary, in the middle of the night.
the bottom of the grave becomes a playground,
I cean see all of the kids, watch as they play
Oblivious to me, a dream within a dream.
Now she heralded by the growing winds of a storm
Just a hint of her favorite fragrance plays with me,
empty gutted feeling, makes me want to wake up
I don't pinch myself, or slap my face because I know
When I go to sleep she comes,  Ink poured into water
Grows and spreads all around, tell theres only grey everywhere
Time again to relive the loss, for the millionth time
It isn't as if she screams, or says hurtful things to me
She looks down on me, and the eyes tell me everything
I'm a decent man, half addict, then equal halves of that...
half unmotivated, half useless waste of space

Light from Her eyes,
  Casts out the shadows,
    from this place I often go,
      to hide
     My feelings,
  My dreams.
Where I go,
  when My life seems,
     Too unbearable.
        Out of control.

My few words fell down
So, so heavy to the floor
contrasting, somewhat
Lacking any intent
Effects of such beauty
ruining the best of me
taking the breath
before it can be used
She never hears my attempts
Effects of such beauty.

I have this ability,
Inside,
Within my very being...
A Gift?..
Talent...
A Skill, Yes...
Worthy of Honing.
This, my craft
I've come to love.
But it is so much more,
Much more,.
You may call my way
However you believe it to be...
But I hold it's secret.
See it for what it is,..
and it is Amazing,
It is Ancient, and Limitless...
To me, the one that wields it,
this blessing?.. I see, incredible things.
I alone, my inner eye,..
Then of nothing, shall I create something,..
Seen til this moment,...
By me, and me alone.
Now, made real by my magic,..
Physical, Real,..
Mysterious spells, and enchantments cast
upon, into, over and through it.
imagination, emotion, heart and soul,..
Do you see?... Gaze upon my artwork...
Inside of you, and you, and me...
Strings, and I manipulate, maneuver, Agitate,..
I Soothe, I sympathize, I celebrate,...
Surrendering myself, entirely,
I make each piece,..
These spells are made of every color.
Potions stirred into impossible textures.
Subject matters,..
Please Judge.
Please Critique,
Please, please, pretend
to know my reasons,..
I see the awe
See the hidden wonder...
what state of mind must mine be indeed.
See the cloth that made me,
Makes everything!
I am destined,
I have heard my calling...
Bottom, to Top,..
Roots, up,...
In love with my calling.

Look up, I force my gaze up
I face that unwanted reflection
The hated man, the other half
Still addicted, Dependent on ****
The realization hits again
That I and Him, The same man
Night and Day difference
Pros and Cons I weigh
His motivation beats me to it
It is a sickness and I am sick
Of it of not wanting only to want again
Of being unable to manage
Everyday tasks and hobbies I loved
Creativity seems to visit
When it’s the good ****…
Again, That man before me now
******* this ******* mirror
He knows how badly I hate him,
He feels no where near the same
Content with his poison
But I can see it in his eyes,
He knows that it isn’t right
Will he help me quit this time?

Here we are
Grey waters
Swells heaving
Crashing continuosly
Over, over, sinking
Lost, capsized
In an ocean of feeling
Such bitterness
Cold, grey waters
My world, our ship
Taken, torn,
Slipping in
Capsized, feelings
Going down with a ship
A lost cause
Because of you
Sails lost winds
only to be torn apart
when winds of change hit
breaking masts; match sticks
to the crushing weight
of your caress
the lack therein
Abandon ship
A chance if only
Gaining purchase upon
Or cling to foolishly
a fractured fragment
of the lost
the capsized emotions
gasping, choking, calling out
Washing up on the shores
of an island of confused loss
Capsized in an ocean of feeling
lost.

Here we are
Grey waters
Swells heaving
Crashing continuosly
Over, over, sinking
Lost, capsized
In an ocean of feeling
Such bitterness
Cold, grey waters
My world, our ship
Taken, torn,
Slipping in
Capsized, feelings
Going down with a ship
A lost cause
Because of you
Sails lost winds
only to be torn apart
when winds of change hit
breaking masts; match sticks
to the crushing weight
of your caress
the lack therein
Abandon ship
A chance if only
Gaining purchase upon
Or cling to foolishly
a fractured fragment
of the lost
the capsized emotions
gasping, choking, calling out
Washing up on the shores
of an island of confused loss
Capsized in an ocean of feeling
lost.

Honestly, I have never been destined for any sort of greatness.
I've always been a dreamer.
Chased nothing
nothing worth a life
like this one I've wasted.

I write and dream up new ways
To say and cry out old things
Utilizing the strings that can be tugged
That attach to inner most hopes
Hopes that feed dreams and needs
All of the things that can hurt
As they have done and I endure alone
I use these words that hold meaning
To tell the world how it is for me
To share with others that may comprehend
I write to post and pretend they reach you
But if they ever do is it just words
Or is the emotional message conveyed
I write to pretend that someone is listening.
I write to acknowledge the truth of loves cost
And to exercise my restless wants and longings
These are my chosen words
My means at giving feeling to the way one reads them.
My message to someone I know never sees or reads
The way it is to see or feel
Or love and want what cannot be
I write because I need to,  
Feel, to be, to eat, breathe.
I write because.

I write and dream up new ways
To say and cry out old things
Utilizing the strings that can be tugged
That attach to inner most hopes
Hopes that feed dreams and needs
All of the things that can hurt
As they have done and I endure alone
I use these words that hold meaning
To tell the world how it is for me
To share with others that may comprehend
I write to post and pretend they reach you
But if they ever do is it just words
Or is the emotional message conveyed
I write to pretend that someone is listening.
I write to acknowledge the truth of loves cost
And to exercise my restless wants and longings
These are my chosen words
My means at giving feeling to the way one reads them.
My message to someone I know never sees or reads
The way it is to see or feel
Or love and want what cannot be
I write because I need to,  
Feel, to be, to eat, breathe.
I write because.

What I do, I create,
and shelve away
Too many ways to focus
each unique but all with one purpose
I want to draw it out.
To write it all down
as fresh as it feels
emotions are this need
and I am never free
Always wanting,
only partially pleased
Unsatisfied.

And there you are,
that look, those eyes.
And Me,?.  But A ghost
Too long haunting.
You,  those eyes,..
And I am at once,
again,..  Always,
Held by them.
Foolishness those dreams
Those of yesterday
Every time, each time,
Caught regardless, breath taken
And there I am,  the fool
Nightly chases,
myself, the madman
In endless cycles
recognition coaches the way
The way of acceptance
I remind myself that things change
But there you are,
And I am drawn up,
quartered,..  Lost.
Again the madman has his day

That look,..
. . . . Those eyes,..

There You are,

. . . . . . Regardless.

If I look at this life,
At today, or tomorrow
Yesterday, I see what is behind me
I see your face, my smile
exactly the way we once were.
Still I wake up tomorrow,
another day of pretending.
This is okay, but inside denial.
more and more hollow,
the way my heart aches,
so I don't look for tomorrows.
I much rather turn around,
and look upon those yesterdays,
because right now, the next day,
they seem less worth while
They are as empty then
as they are now,
yesterday is worth my gaze.
back then was everything.

Simply Words
Mirror - like and well chosen
Leaving no doubt,
No quotation or wisdom
Immediate, closer,  then,..
Not.
The words will bring to light
Just the juicy Parts,  the secrets
Six, seven,..  More...  Meaningful
In so certain the delivery
The point emphasised and
embellished, properly placed
Anger where the most damage
Is borne of self loathing, laying
Hidden pitfalls,  rotten props
Simple words.

37 times 37 and still I am alone not right I guess they all reach that conclusion to be honest myself they have valid and ample reason 37 and still no one can ride with start again this time with less less time for living each rotation seems faster the new one that just passed before I know it long white tunnels second only just met myself insecurity manifestation of a man but couldn't see his way out

first her words seem off the mark, they were painful regardless people words do hurt and you **** it very nice they ruin you forgetting pride so I had no choice I shouted I lied I use damaging words with false purpose

she may be,
off in the distance.

that thin line
where heaven tickles earth.

off and Beyond
like

the Setting Sun
how far

she will never tell me
and the place giving reason
to step many

taken
more each day to take in
just one direction
upon her name it is
I follow her Stone Road

all of the worst
in me
all I see today
the secret,
the fantasies
I don't want to own them
why am I this way
will I ever change,  
oh to be
normal,...  ME,...

This,..  My way,  my nature
Birthed to this,
My lineage,  this legacy,
Given,..  Named,..  
Long ago,  our lines given
Titles, trades,  qualities,  dispositions
Earned, bestowed, deserved,  taken
It was a day of beginnings,  
A day of firsts, lines created
It was a day of words
It says the day of naming.
Only are names given but that once
After that day,  one is born into
The name,  the legacy then passed
From generation to the next,
fathers and sons
My line: Fehlmann...
A man missing, or lost and searching?
Hiding?  Different?  A little off?  
Perhaps indefinable?  
Unreachable, exploring,  so misleading,
Misunderstood,  built different,  special
Untouchable, wandering,  leading?  
I can't help but wonder,  why?  Those words?
Was my distant relative present?
What a puzzling choice of words to be given?  Or,  earned?

I guess the madman
have calculated urges
disturbing angles
and unknown destination
exponential compromises
are words unsaid.
leaving leads to a labyrinth
full of unwanted things there
are the sounds you hear
of your own heart beating
that then seems to echo out
and fall to pieces
imposing places of
contemplation seeking direction
and comforting
they're all of the skills
They are barred
with in Wheeling, Broken,
and imperfect scars
scars that speak
in voices without tongues
They fluently create the lies
currency of  and for
causing discomfort as designed
glinches come at random
places that there is concern
that the illusions tell now,  cherished
and innocent versions all dressed up
False faces of who we are
feeding risky randomness
auditions held for the part of grown up obsession over
the past happy to give
flawless proof of lives In motion
not punching like creatures
Vultures circling over poisoned enclosures
those explorers so eagerly lost
create what happens
and I recognize the patterns
and the direction entices them
the misunderstood
They,  the lacking
the admiration leaching from the dependent
alien reasons for force
human consumption
we want so we approach
imagining admiration
as the fake see clearly
This comes along empty and fruitless weeping on road
they twist and turn to our destination listen for proof
Find strangeness from the terrified smiling as reflex is often fun to witness
Life is a marketing bonanza
Fretted upon by the aged
and confusing the greater purpose
It is unflattering
The images are set on dancing
in dream- like exuberance
But for our Commercial grade lifestyles worn out just as the next latest arrived motion that spurs ordinary
traditions are lessees and should lead
follow behind today showing.
direction and dramatic pauses
decisions create ruined morals
floating on an endless breeze
they are carried past the gate
seemingly entitled
as if born there and welcome
Off is the practiced flaws
missing is the counter balance
confrontation unspoken is kin to action anger is without conscience
mistakes have been made.
deception is practiced,  perfect.

Thirty-seven trips now,  
Around the Sun...
Still,..  I am found wanting.
True in form and practice,
To my line,  my heritage...
The Lost,  or,  the Missing,..
The Ones Lacking,..  Or Off.
The day of naming did too find us.
Difficult,  hard to be certain of,
My line was to be rated and unwelcomed.
Undefined yet equally undiminished,
Our ways far too confusing,
Unconforming,  unlike my shoes
To this,  Her stone road.
Stretching out and on
To meet with the earth and the sky.
The birthing grounds of tomorrows,
And that realm of possibilities
made maybe's.
In one direction
do his strides consume
distance measured in footstep
After unwavering footstep.
The man called Lost,
His line the misplaced,  unwell
Insane,  or simply the missing.
Follows the road as roads promise,
Direction,  reasons to push on,
Whispering rewards,  her smile,  her acceptance.
This man known as wanting,  fits the definition
For only rarely is this the way of his name...
This is the road,  it's stones
Fit face to face onward,  
Endless,  and as uncountable
Are they,  as are his questions
What if he cannot be found?
Forever out of place,  unknown,..
Lost to her beautiful eyes,
  or the radiant waves
Each of her smiles creates?  
Could this road lead this man,
From nowhere,  of nothing
To an end just as unwelcome?

This man that answers to the far off,
That knows the distant,  the different...
She owes this road,  placed each stone...
The toll must be hers,  alone
And a test that one must satisfy,
To earn the trust,  to claim such reward
As to be known,  to be welcomed,  to be loved
To be found perfect,
And to be wanted,  for being different.

your blood representation, of a familiar design,
maybe equally as essential, as the clever use of smoke and hidden mirrors,
mislead you through the way it works comedy action catches you in awe.
and as the last act unfolds,
Its the ending you are really looking for.

it is a familiar face, and with time with his changed.  you shade in expressions, clearly portrayed.
you see right away, I laugh a lot, maybe, cry a little
maybe, why concentrate and I stare office space
into some distant deep thought see I'm a deep thinker
off in some ways but better in others
Im , but I won't hide my flaws they're what make me meme
as long as I've been here I've been reading and AG and I've been imperfect
and I couldn't ask for anything more

After you I guess I'll end it...
Breath by breath
A slow, yet certain end,..
Slow suicide
I'll use tabacco...

List my choices.
Even those,
I've in haste chosen.
Then won't you?
Show me,
My many imperfections?
Please, please,
Force my eyes open!
Play these.
I'll remember...
Ask me,.. Why?
I'm so rotten.
If you bait me,
maybe...
I will speak?
I'll come clean?
It might be,
Forever,
My Confession

A face spoke exposing
curled roads rising, rolling
Sweeping in all directions
Gentle shapes misleading
Echoing possible folly
questioning every turn,
disbelief bridging the errors
Yesterday's unremarkables
Left till now neglected, distorted
caustic and uninspired
victimized and untrusting
recognizing silouetted wrongs
made promises and failed at it
this road of folly, rewards, all contrary
to the words that face whispered
to lead one astray, to decieve
to make one face the unwanted.

Ihave a moment
I think ill write something
A poem maybe, about my world
how it gets crazy,
how much I suffer
just how to save me
I fyou even really want to
until then I wake up every day
to the sounds of my own scream
I don't know why this has to go south
turns out that when i write
it always needs to have negative tones
i guess my muse is a *****
honestly right now I feel fine
done my work, waiting on her
so we can put more ink under the skin
just thought that i'd write....

i did

if the little fish escapes the bowl
passing from one existance to the next
is he in fishy limbo, or heaven
when you think about it,
it was suicide by suffocation!
if you ask me,..  I couldn't give an answer
see I'm not a fish,
but I'll be sure to ask him

Having no place in which to begin
thoughts are at best, random
there is this silence that waits with me
wrapping me like a blanket
part wants to sleep,
but others parts aren't ready
so sitting here, hoping to create
giving away another little piece
to demonstrate the hard things
the inner voice and heartache
those precious things unto this web
of minds that feel, and eyes that see
giving out the truth, the causes
the casualties, everything
thinking maybe chords might ring
to a few or many, if any

I was to take a few minutes now, to aim my words much more specific this night.  to those that know and use and share their own views and emotions on this site, I must offer to you my deepest thanks for listening to my rantings.  I know very few actually come across as more than gibberish and the fact that there are others that took the time, read my rabble and even at times shared it with others, to those few I thank you from the deepest, most shocked, insecure recesses of my introvert heart.  you make me want to share,, and put it out there.  all the things that haunt, empower, surprise, and annihilate me.  thank you for taking the time.