Gone are the days where the sun shone its fearsome rays

Gone are the days where the music that was played would raise my troublesome heart

Gone are the days where her kisses turned my insecurities until they were secured

Gone are the days where she would lay upon me and our hearts did beat in their place

Gone are the days where looking ahead wasn't plagued with looking back

Gone are the days where sweet cares were left to dance alone in the night

Gone are the days now left dead in the purest of white lights

Gone are the days for they never really had the right, at all, to stay

Yes,
I am dead

I have walked the streets of life
before there were even roads

I twisted my ankle
on the cobble stone

I have moved past the past so many times
that I don't even know

I have roamed the metropolis's made by man
and have found them all below a stones throw

I've met the faces of the characters that dreams wove
just to awaken to pounder what has happened to whom I was to be betrothed

I've seen the tapestry become unwound
spooled in a mound upon the earthen ground

I spoke so sweetly
I was not heard

I yelled so loud
I was feared

I thought so quietly
I was Love

I thought of myself
I was abound for above

alas,
the wise in the weak can never lesson

there is not a sign in life
that left me guessing?

It was there…
Just sitting there,
for eyes to see
and hands to take ahold of.


The entire day is spent on adolescent thoughts
breeding life into a well weathered mind,
like the first time you climbed
to get to higher grounds
and search around
the whole world contained
within a playground…

Your playground.

And the only limits to be perceived
existed only within your own imagination.

Why not break the fourth wall
to find and gather
and then pull back on your worldly tether
to sustain and remain
well partaking in creativities finest form
and continue the process of awaiting destiny
(the time spent between life and death)

by passing the time as you see fit.

But if you choose to advance
add only and do not subtract,

that is to say that the true
progression of mankind is formed
through the inviting of new ideas
into our universal vernacular
and the practicality of the worlds relation to a dream
grasping from one rung while swinging to the next
continues fluent and the end inevitable,

after all…

The floor is lava and you can *not
not touch.

The long lost substance
That money can not depart

You come to me as yourself
You come to me as you fall apart

You do not understand when the time has changed
You do not have tomorrow on your face

You kiss my lips
My lips are gone

You kiss my wounds
My wounds have healed

You live a life
That I could steal

You love me forever
Is forever real?

When is now going to be
When you feel?

I kiss your lips
I unlock your heart

You do not understand
We’re never a part

S.  T.  A.  R.  T.  I.  N.  G  

A  T  

S o m e t h i n g

S. O.

S i m pl e

And then
Ending with some thing a little more complex…

How could true love contain a filtered self?
All we think, say and do is who we are
how could misjudgments tear our love in half?
If so, the course of love will not lead far

Somewhere in the distance lies sleeping dreams
The true love that I've seeked within my mind
Is she looking for me within her schemes?
I'm sure when we find it we'll enter blind

And slowly we will come to understand
The love thats afoot that we have to tend
'fore our names are just pebbles in the sand
When all our charades have come to an end

Everything that was us; buried away
Yet true love always has a place to stay

If you could be with someone who actually loves you
leave me right now.

I am not an anchor tied to your ankle dragging you down,
drawing you into a sea of regrets
like overboard rice
taking on too much water and becoming mushed mash,
so even when you try to save them by throwing a line,
or holding out a stick,
they’re too far gone for you to get a grip.

You’ll go unfed and your soul will starve
when old age reveals it’s long awaited scars.

Same goes for me.

I’d leave in a heartbeat that beats twice
in two.

It has nothing to do with me and you.

But in my mind she still flattens the rice out,
even and nice…

Not undercooked
and still on board
waiting to be rolled cut and served.

To me maybe...

I do not know.

So I wait patiently
with the others in line,
while our opposites wave on bye,
waiting for two peaks to meet
and two valleys
to depart.

That is a certainty
of two caught eyes.

That is the key
to a victorious heart.

(Invitation and Intervention)

A man looks back and reflects on any place he could have been,
while knowing time will sweep us all away eventually.

This isn’t a *home,
This is only temporary.

Anyone ever could have been at odds with everything that ever existed,
but for one night be so lost in thought that they forgot what ever was.

And by tomorrow
a change devoured the marrow,
as they find that it all was
and never what they thought in,
but out.

While the screaming world comes about,
and I break forth into that odd place
where every face comes inside,
and I feel like a ghost
who’s felt the surface like braille,
and read the book of the softly lit place
where people come out to have another taste,
and celebrate the fact
that they’re still on this world.

And so the old man puts on his coat,
and walks away when they please it…

But I'm sure that’s not the way he see’s it.

What does it matter how old?

Don’t you know
that you’ve plateaued?

What are you waiting for
when all your dates are already told…

It’s over before it begins;
you’re dead before you’re born.

Now I'll spend the day
trying to remember all the things
I’ve said…

All the things
I’m going to say…

It matters not.

Both ways are dreaming.

Everything is so unreal…

Reality is screaming at me.

Can you believe it?

I’ve done nothing wrong,
but that’s where it lies.

The wrong I’ve done
is being alive.

Here we are,
there we were,
watching matters
flutter by...

Without sight,
out of mind.
Closed off from the view
that we all carried…

With, or without me…

Or the line passed onto you.

I can see still
a place we have,
like looking back
at the stream we passed…

Laying down I’m taken back...

With a flash I see again…

With not a care
we float on by
on the ground
while in the sky.

Mix
Malted
Tumultuous
Feathers
Flapped
Fluttered
Flew
Rising
Above
Things
That
We
Knew
With
A
Coo
Wings
Clipped
Crumpled
And
Blew
Trying
To
Get
Back
To
You
Weather
The
Two
And
Still
Not
Through
Mangled
Tether
Secondary
Strap
Always
Comes
Back
For
A
Final
Lap...
Weary
Wings
Make
Their
Way
Around
By
Marching
It's
All
You
Search
For
But
Never
Expect
The
Search
For
The
Word
Isn't
Over
Yet...*

It's all you seek,
but never can find.

The elusive word,
evades my mind.

Her eyes
are of nighttime skies
that deeply pool at the base
of a silhouettes shape.

Her form
is of the dreams
that the legend makers
should keep.

The way her hair falls down
and around her face
mirrors the waterfall
and stands in its place

while she showers under its spring,
time and time again,
in her elegance that has
learned all too well how to play pretend...

But does she know
the way back out again?

Does she feel the sunlight
that dries her perfect black strands,
or the way it cures the newly formed streak
that turns back in due time?

Does she feel the way
the rays caress her skin?

Does she know more
than only one way
to let love in…

A vast indifference is
a confusion causing spin

that an easily listening heart hears,
and with compassion can
put back in a safe place…

A warm embracing state
that no undertow can take.

A sorry call
when distance is installed,
and has well over stayed…

To be involved
with memories
of golden days,

which were actually
bright side
silver linings,

While on the inside
were filled with pain,
and the pressures
of the day…

But I cannot complain,
nor just give in,

nor ever give away!

And a chance
for gracious change
in all the signages
that cry out to be brave

in the face of all those fears
that have haunted like bad thoughts
over all those nasty years...

And if fortune does indeed
favor those who face their fears,

let it also favor those
who turn a wink
and a solemn covered ear,

So that they can try to escape
the horrors
that they neither want to see,
nor hear

...

Let love be thine guide
that's never so quiet
that it falls on deaf ears,

nor never so silent
that it ever becomes a whisper so soft
that only silence can hear.

I really did like you…

As far as human interactions go.

Beyond the jagged edges of
metallic creations,
or the infinite circuitry
passing through information’s…

Like each other passing through one another.

Take a hood off,
waste a smile.

Cold ice glare,
warm caring stare.

Climb a case,
change your ways
to get out of another's
personal space.

Be yourself,
pretend to be someone else.

Have your day,
or put aside.

Love me blindly,
or blind my mind.

Kiss me here,
or have me never.

Pour the rain,
or clog the drain.

You were a victim too,
but they’re still going to charge you…

Very few get away.

Thinking about a society;

One in all or too many in a singular.

Put in place,
undeserved fate.

Stealing from another me...

Being something
I don’t want to be.

It doesn’t make it any better…

On the contrary,
it only makes it hurt more after.

Walk on by…

One of these times
the machine will stall
and it will be interchanged for
something that will not fail to fall.

Cutting me down to one knee,
or a pollution too powerful to last…

This one last time
I’ll watch her pass.

And I will hate myself
because of last night’s yurinings.
I know it’s not good for my health...

But I can’t stop craving
carving a path
that’s shelved.

I go to work disheveled
and in need of help,
but I can’t stop hurting.

Is it wrong of me to hate you?
Because I don’t.
Although I wish I could...

You
(Poets)

She waves in a far off land
One that I knew
Like the back of my hand

And on the ever changing wind
The bows flow in spiraling circles
At the tail end of a kite
That pushes forwards
With all its tethered might
As it swoops and dives
At the command of the breeze

And suddenly,

As if with great ease,

It's back to its stable posture

Sailing proud and feeling free

And I know,

Like the kite,

Where I to would like to be

Released from the hand
And sent forth to fly across the land
In hopes of where birds and clouds do tell
Drifting peacefully with messages for the beauty fair
Who stays and waits in a far off place
That she could hear the words uttered by a man
Left blowing for the wind to understand

(...)

And there he stands still.

Wondering...

Waiting...

All the while watching that kites proud flight,
At its greatening height,
Holding the string within his hand


Closed firmly

And

Grasping tight.

Sipping inebriation to pass the time.

Desires of an almost,
but not quite,
criminal mind…

A mind of mine.

Thinking and thought out,
like the smoke screen that was blown about
by the atmosphere as it lifted off.

Finally a completed thought,
and it’s too late…

It’s stopped,
or not.

My mind returns to me in a song
that only I can sing along to.

Out of tune to you,
but in line with mine
and everything we all do.

I’ll sit while long ago should have been cut off takes my spot.

An engine turned on
leaves me to believe I’ve done wrong.

A thinking woman figures it out
and returns to remind me…

I’m a shell in my own personal hell
and everyone else knows better.

Remove a sweater
and lose the winter skin,
or hold onto and be tormented forever
in a city where if you know no one
you don’t know me,
and get lost in a world of infinite impossibilities,
and let the warmth surround me,
and breath the clean air…

The air where The Glitter Man
and I both agree.

And forever be free.

Life is simple
for something that just is
and never wonders why,
doesn’t get depressed,
or feel the need to cry
for something it doesn’t get.

It just fights for it’s life
with an instinct to protect...

I didn’t mean to project.

I was just sitting in a florescent glow
and watching flames within me grow
another chance to become known
and something else upon the floor…

I’ve seen deflects so common
they scream to be forgotten.

I washed a window late,
or not that often.

My view can be so rotten
that sunny days
seem but a murky haze,
and watching rain
can even put a smile
on my face.

I’m not a lace
to be done up,
or a shoe with a sole
to be stepped on.

I could have thought that
I would have been the road,
but I’m not manufactured...

I’m the soul within
and I’m keeping myself afloat.

One look away…

Wasn’t given.

It’s easy when it’s clear.

It’s easier when it’s not.

To walk away…

Regrets for a death bed.

Put a bullet in my head
so I can skip the bit.

Saying goodbye
thinking

I don’t want to die…

Well here’s here
and we’re all going over there...

Prove a point
that’s almost as old as time.

I think she came first,
but I can’t beat this out of my mind.

Something in the way she focuses her lens,
or captures with her eye.

Im beyond oblivion…

The last chance was spent thinking
of who she could capture next...
(What a catch)

And I’m the past tense.

Enjoy your lover,
for tomorrow one will be dead

and the other depressed,

or the next you’ll grow bored
and you’ll have to find

someone else to impress.

She waves in a far off land
One that I knew
Like the back of my hand

And on the ever changing wind
The bows flow in spiraling circles
At the tail end of a kite
That pushes forwards
With all its tethered might
As it swoops and dives
At the command of the breeze

And suddenly,

As if with great ease,

It's back to its stable posture

Sailing proud and feeling free

And I know,

Like the kite,

Where I to would like to be

Released from the hand
And sent forth to fly across the land
In hopes of where birds and clouds do tell
Drifting peacefully with messages for the beauty fair
Who stays and waits in a far off place
That she could hear the words uttered by a man
Left blowing for the wind to understand

(...)

And there he stands still.

Wondering...

Waiting...

All the while watching that kites proud flight,
At its greatening height,
Holding the string within his hand


Closed firmly

And

Grasping tight.

Their there when you need them…
Nice and easy.

But they don’t fit the taste,
they just fill the space,
and the real thing is hard to find…

I know.

I search around with nothing in my hands.

A seeking heart
and a troublesome mind
that doesn’t decipher wrong from right all the time.

Getting lost in confusion…
(A great delusion)

If instincts knew
I wouldn't get caught up in brands
one to seven,
seven through eleven,
and twenty four hours a day.

Heaven reigns semi supreme,
as if there’s a chance to get lost…

I can see over your love
to the aisle of her hate
and his getting in my way.

When I pay I put on a face.

As I go home I swing and sway
my waste
in front of everyone’s face,
while two the same age as me walk hand in hand.

And if I were to return twenty years now passed
I would see them the same…

I guess they’re more of the tailored type,
cut to fit and dry cleaned,
hand washed and air dried...

Mine cycles far to high.

Every look carries with it some thought implied.

I gathered and divided
all into the same bin
and I've got the corner store feelings
once again.

...Doesn't matter where I place my point
when there was nothing there?
I did it anyway.

An outcome so simple to say,
they’ll call me a fool
for seeing this action through.

We are the unlucky ones,
the ones in tune to care.

I’m one world away from turning this dimension around
and I just might do it…

I’m one twisted laugh away from a disfigured joke
to being referred to as that demented bloke.


After all is said,
thought mattered not.

I’m a prisoner in someone else’s mind
and I’m looking for someone who’s blind…

...for someone who can’t see my insides.

The person who best suits me
turns out to be
the most incompatible.

The curse of birth
carries my blood
along with me.

I’d bleed black if the prism ever broke.

I think you know,
but it doesn’t show.

My truth is a little less then a window.

I spin my thoughts around all matters
and feel untrue feelings
just to judge what it all means.

I choose to open or close
until it breaks in and takes all it can
and then I’m left angry and afraid.

I shatter myself and a disfigured creature lurks out…

I regain control by picking up the shiniest pieces
as I try to put myself back together...

Into something respectable...

Into something better...

It would be a great big lie
to tell you that,

‘I don’t think about
what it would be like
to be with you…

To lie with you…

To feel your hair against my face
and hear your breath compete
against my heartbeat.’

It would be untrue
if I didn’t tell you,

‘I don’t want to go out
it would only diminish my interest
through all the distractions...

Disturbing my focus...

Bright lights and loud sounds;
answering all the questions of others
cycling around.’

I would have to return to the spot
where we once were…

Then I could begin to truly re-spur
the feeling of when we were just laying
and wish again…

‘...That nothing would ever change
that moment where...


                 you and I…

                
                                  ...lie in place.’