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A relationship's ultimate prospect
is a part of a greater whole.

A single's life, however,
yields the promise of individual freedom.
17.7k · May 2014
Personality Quizzes
I know they're not
accurate.
The fact I frequent
creative results
may be
more or less
coincidental.
After all
who am I
compared to
Jon Stewart
or a Greek
philosopher?

But maybe
I don't care.
Maybe I take them
just for fun.
And who can complain
when they are compared
to Charizard
and Winnie the Pooh?
14.1k · May 2014
True Beauty
Anybody can feign beauty
on the outside.
But true beauty
comes from the inside.
11.8k · Jul 2014
Idiom
What's up is the sky
and I'm up for the stars
and down for a cave expedition.

I'm game for a used copy
since time is literally killing me
while I got pizza in one hand
and an energy drink in the other
so the tree that is my life goes
chop chop chop.

The only chip on my shoulder
is a potato chip
because I got a dozen for every dime I spent,
which is a drop in the bucket of change
I'm saving for Coinstar.

My son Jack has made many trades,
from CDs to movies to videogames to trading cards
and he just so happens to be a Pokemon master, thank you very much.

Resisting a piece of cake
is no piece of cake,
even when the recipe
--complete with a photogenic picture--
is comprised of over a thousand words.
Don't cheat on your diet,
the spinach is always watching
and that Rolex will feel so tight
you'll be praying for thousands
of slaps on both wrists.

When things get hot
you can bang against a clock
to see how long you last.
Just don't crack 'em up too much,
clocks are fragile devices.

My motor's a Cobia
yours is an Evinrude
but otherwise we're in the same boat.

Whenever I fail I don't go to the drawing board,
I get out my scrap book.
I prefer its texture and it is,
truly,
the first square.

When my frustration becomes too much
I might have to beat the bush instead,
after all
it can't be a sightseer forever.

Don't throw me a bone,
I'm not dog,
merely a curious cat
still on his seventh life.

I'd rather be close
than be stuck with a cigar--
smoking's bad and I hate the smells.
If I'm left with nothing, I'll cry like a wolf.
Wolves are hunters, wolves are survivors.
8.2k · May 2014
Red Dresses
Something about women
in red dresses...
A vibrance, a radiance
an essence of vitality
basking bright youth
beyond all age.
The lines rendered
whether curved or slender,
sleek and elegant,
one with the material
one with the color.
8.1k · May 2015
Candle
Here rests a future
Untouched and eager
for light
Wanting to exude its aromas
of which I neither looked
nor cared.

She handed me the match
fresh, burning bright,
a new sense in my familiar room.

Baffling confusion
overtook as I blew her match
so stubborn
to extinguish
in a faint stream of
smoke still thinning.

Was I
the stubborn?

Subsequent darkness
overtaking
Once a sweet home
Now a paralyzing loneliness.

Match burnt, candle gone
future still…

Will another offer to
light my dark corners
--myself willing,
with a newfound scent?

A day may come
to end my night,
but I only care to see
the one I once hid from.
5.1k · May 2015
A Chance for Growth
Listen one more time
to the notes you think you know

Time too can be generous.
A simple expression for when music grows on you.  Felt going on further would be forcing it.
5.1k · Jun 2014
Spiderweb
Paths have been laid
   far and short
   narrow and wide
   coarse and moist
   brown from dirt
   gray with asphalt.

Spiders lurk and creep about
   legs poised and fangs ready
   craving another injection
   to feast just a little
   further, just a little
      longer.

We are the prey they seek
   stuck in their strands
   reaching everywhere we walk
   catching us as we tumble and fall
   not for comfort nor salvation
   just the cold strings of wrapture
   before the color of blood
      the color of life
   is taken from us.
4.9k · Jun 2014
Rock, Paper, Scissors
Papers are flimsy, fragile
   so susceptible to time
      and harsher climates.

Scissors cut and divide
   thriving on irreparable separation
      to leave us in pieces and scattered.

Rocks are rough and tough
   facing--and looking--the worst
       while enduring every day and night to come.

My choice resides amongst the stones
   constant, long-lasting, dependable
      in the challenges that may have others call
      for support when they can't stand alone
   for maybe the times they lived were too much, too long
after facing the blades which cut them into small, segregated fragments.
4.2k · May 2014
Sunset on the Docks
The sunset is beautiful
I only wish you were here
to complete the evening

If you were
what would we do?
Where would we go?
Perhaps we'd just stay here
sitting on the steps
standing over the water
leaning on the buildings by the docks
simply talking
about how life has been
individually, several miles apart

Familiar our exchanges might be,
no small thanks to
our fancy flatscreen devices,
I'd still want to hear each word
while we do whatever we desire
because you'd be here
and we'd be together
at last in person again
laughing, smiling, jesting
holding and stroking each other
poking and patting in this place and that
all while looking out at the sunset
although I wouldn't want
to look away even if I could
from those deep brown eyes
flowing with the tone of your soft skin
and the groomed lines of your elegant hair;
perfect as a pristine painting
whether afar or in the details.

I only wish
that you were here
beside me.
Just another fantasy by another hopeless romantic.
4.1k · May 2014
The Things I Wish I Could Be
The Things I Wish I Could Be

I wish I could be
one of all instruments;

the singer whose voice
transforms his audience into a choir;

the writer who drops his reader's guard
making a beautiful decimation of every self-made fantasy;

the actor ripe with nominations
whose prestigious Oscar breaks him open before the world;

the photographer who captures moments worth infinite words
while instilling that perfect piercing silence;

the painter of elegant simplicity
or ponderous complexity in every brush and stroke;

the icon strangers seek for reason
looking upon for inspiration;

the husband who gives and comforts
appreciating the angel he's been bestowed;

the father wise and guiding
with enough laughs and smiles to last their whole lives;

the chef and the baker serving only the best
scrumptious entrees and desserts;

the encyclopedia of experience
answering questions obscured from the web;

yet beyond all things
I wish to greet death with a smile
knowing my life, however lived
was worth those years.
There are so many things to dream of being...
3.7k · Jul 2014
Deaf Death
Music is the air
And listening ears my heart.
If I'm deaf, I'm dead.
3.4k · Jun 2014
Please Don't
When speaking
of intimate prospects
please
don't put the impossible
scenarios into my head.  

I do enough of that
myself.
3.1k · May 2014
An Escape
To all of the songs
that creep upon and seize me
vanquishing the world.
2.8k · May 2014
Off Pair
In a world of birds
you're the queen of swans
and I'm the common crow

how I wish
we could be a pair of cardinals
2.6k · Nov 2014
I'm Deteriorating
Where the whole that was
has finally
fragmented,
descending in an open, unremarkable blaze.  

And so pieces of me shall collide
with the ground,
implanting fractures
few shall discern.  

And the winds of days
and nights will continue to
persuade the dirt unto me
so my morose roots will not grow,
infesting a world undeserving
of my inadvertent pollution.
2.6k · Jun 2014
A World of Boxes
This is my box,
home to contrived chaos.
I open and close it
many times a day.

Beside my box
are other boxes
bigger and smaller,
all of them surrounded
by an even bigger box.

And if you left this box
you'd see a field
of boxes
sprawling the land
further than eyes can see.

And how odd is it
--the mere idea--
that all these boxes
adhere to this sphere
we reside upon
like a collection
of living magnets.
2.4k · Nov 2015
What If I'm the Villain?
Am I among those they write
deep in the threads of contempt?
For no one truly can be
a hero to all.

We all imagine the songs
powerful and triumphant
will someday be our own.

But what is desire?
What is the facade we wear
day in and day out
to power the most illusive masquerade?

What if the turn from my childhood
was never a turn at all?
Is it so strange, is it too far
of a line to draw
that I may be the villain?

Perhaps we're all simply searching
in desire for an adversary.
The call to arise, the call to spur us forth
from the pit too many have found as solace.

Now what if I am
not even a pawn
and barely a sheep
in life's great puzzle,
or is it a mystery
never to be solved?

I long for the moment
I'm desperate for change
I've bit the blind eye
And now I wish my own would remain shut.

So who or what is to say
that I won't snap like the thinning rope
caught in a chokehold?
My dear is the victim
and the fall is too far
to survive.

Where shall I be when
my final spin has spun?
Will I drag to a halt or
careen face-forward?
A gradual decay
or a shot to crack the wall,
either way I may merely be
the villain.
Completely random.
2.2k · Jun 2014
Constipation
Get that **** out
don't let it stay in
building up, soiling
inside and rotting
like the mold on a loaf of bread
ignored on the shelf
for two weeks
too long.

Get that **** out
for what seems to come out
of your ******* to you
may just be that
lost, buried treasure
another has finally found,
and oh how they might worship it
your magnificent ****.
Felt like having a little fun.
2.2k · May 2014
Satellites
I stepped outside long ago
if only to step some more.

This cool wind
so unlike Florida.
A welcoming to
embrace.

It'll be gone far too soon.

My neck finally tires
hanging like a bowling ball
tied and held
to one most old
and weary rubber band.

My eyes come up
on a night everyone knows.
We all have a color
coating our pupils.  Mine are blue
and guilty of ogling
even if this common sight grows
sadder and sadder
until it becomes
truly sad.

Many bright dots
freckling the sky--
and what body isn't
without imperfections?
--so much ours
so many.
Too many.

Those builders
of our own time
those without grasp
of selflessness
have such themselves.

Stinging night's veil
both by presence
and prominence.
with naught subtlety.

They shine beyond all
that have ever shone.  
Illuminating
glaring and blinding.

We are not so receptive
down in the dark earth
where neon signs pollute our eyes
until the sun dusts it away
only so we cringe
and close them again.

What then can a satellite show?
Everyone has to start by posting something.
2.1k · Jun 2015
Whimsical Breeze
Shadows thrive upon complexity
Vague and nonsensical
The untrained, without resolve
Welcome all to cast their shades
Deeper inside they oft reside
Wilting, transfiguring
Til the field they presume to preside
Flourishes with roses black
as obsidian

Yet the seed may still be planted
Yielding a flower tall, light and bright
Consuming those beneath until vacancy remains

High is the Sun, white is the Orchid
Tempered radiance, gradual growth
More shall fill the newfound garden
While Day brings its gifts
Crescendoing by the simplest
of cool Spring breezes
Coming and going through
The end of another season
Promising its constant return.
2.0k · Jul 2015
Escape
Caught myself amidst the wilderness
Where I was neither born nor raised
It always appeared so, so strange a place
No place for a child

My heart resided in the certain and familiar
Now I wonder where it longs to take me
Desire's inbound with unflinching insistence
But perceived reasons stake me to the ground

Curious odors, pulsating flashes, prickling noises, voracious appetites
The atmosphere overwhelms me senseless
Am I here to enjoy or to observe?
My chains answer with invisible weight

Now comes the rainbow-colored mist
Is this a magician's home--a flourishing disguise?
Sparks and shadows scatter into the expanse
All I see is a vista like the blessing skybox

Desire will you take me?
Lead the boy out of his crib built by the safe
Who are one and the same
Sitting, allowing the box for forge us

A light of the mist careen's my way
Its pleasant sting spreads, boundaries finally disintegrate
Remains litter the ground, I'm finally free
I'm finally lost
1.9k · Jul 2014
I don't
I don't want cruelty
I don't want pain without purpose
I don't want my eyes to water from a heart left dry

I don't crave some deliberate infliction
I don't long for hidden scars that never heal

I don't search for loaded words
I don't prepare for harmful intentions
I don't seek a path that pushes me underground

I don't look for confusion
I don't desire confined spaces
I don't enjoy advantage at another's disadvantage
And I don't give out points to those who play with dishonesty
1.8k · May 2015
Chain Staked
Deep in the chest
Bones crushed within.

No blood
No screams.
All halted.

A sinking anchor
Chain's crowning jewel
The throne resides below.

Sink a little further
It shall pass

not before
breaths escape
to traps of waters
blackened by their virginity
to the light.
1.8k · May 2014
Caffeine
Coffee and tea
where would I be
without thee?

Half dead
still in my bed
whether or not
by one too many
a shot.
1.7k · Jun 2014
A Poem About Music
The universal therapy
a common, household medicine
crafted by collaborations of talents
and celebrated by siblings far
in distance, near in heart and mind.

If ever a religion existed
which all would embrace,
a movement to seize the fires
and conjoin hands
to spread and span,

If winds had a literal way to speak
to our simple minds,
if anything could drown us faster
than the rising expanse
of miles upon oceans
and make irrelevant
the laws of land, gravity and life...
Very much a work in progress.
1.7k · Jun 2015
Beneath the Burning Sky
An era has been marked
as we gaze upon a burning sky
reigning with fiery rainfall
spat like bursts of anger
reducing calm lands to
wild orange rampancy.

Seeker I would be
for that final person in our final moment
yet overtaken I am
to the walls a newly traumatized world conjures

Cross once, for a moment
and the end shall bitterly meet me.

Surrounded I become
finality in my isolation
a warmth normally fulfilling
now stings beyond comprehension
one of objective peace knows not
of true pain before subjection.
Taking a bit of power metal inspiration.  Not quite fully realized, but it's a gradual process.
1.6k · Jul 2014
The Aglet Dance
You and I are like the ends
of shoelaces.

Twisting and dancing
on the surfaces we know.

Sometimes our paths will cross
and one might seem higher
than the other.

Things always come around
as life leaves us the holes
to fit through.

This far into our journey
we seem so far apart.

Our dance through life will see
us collide together and
let the knot be tied at last.

I may end up on your side
and you upon mine,
but that is how two crossed threads
seem to wind up when they return
again as one.
1.5k · May 2015
Fall
Trickles in the pond
Did a rose or a stone cause it?
Night too dark
For naked eyes
Strained futility.

Your wilderness sings so foreign
Words and melodies blend
As all victims do
In their final, eternal mattress.

The ripples in my pond
Build and crash
Where and when did this collapse begin
Will I find shelter, home or solace
Lost out here?
1.4k · Jun 2015
Singer of Archers
Arrows your choir.
Release.  
In come high soaring melodies
The air bathes in their aromas
A disguise for incoming piercings.

One strike upon the next.
Perseverance bleeds from every wound.
First it trickles
Now it pours.
When struck again
Please find my head or my throat.
1.4k · May 2015
Melt the Shell
Secrets once known
Secrets still unknown
Secrets forgotten

Inside is the youth
Inside is a struggle

Feelings of innocence
Thoughts of guilt

Old warmth dissipates
beneath a newfound shell.
Obsidian frost.

Mystery without clues
Mystery with no answer
Mystery with myself

Questions and doubt
only strengthen what contains
my dwindling flare.

Home once my solace
Home my haven
away from tranquility.

The growing cold stings
my heart
suffocating
my sense.

Extinguish the flame,
for one is contagious
and many are
dangerous.

Welcome the dead desire
Welcome the surrender
Welcome a reminder

Sensation awakens
when the ice melts
before rekindled flames.
1.3k · May 2014
An Amateur's Plea
To truly write
and transform what was once
sheer excrement
into a jewel
that others treasure
making so many wonder.

How I desire to achieve such.
1.2k · May 2015
Play Me a Song
The melodic entrance begins
I'm undone like a spell
Willingly bewitched
Indulge me

Please sing; no voice, no soul
Even those lost have something to offer

Silence intrudes upon removal
Everything's suddenly missing
As I wander the world
No meaning but what my ears are subject to

Play another and make it count
One wrong pick and I'm disrupted

Make it count.
1.2k · Jan 2016
Thief of Hearts
She offered me her heart
And I broke it.

I kept a piece
It once stung
Like a glass shard piercing flesh.

Yet now I feel it
Form and essence
Warm and tender
Longing to be touched
Longing to be held
Longing to be loved.

On one hand
I feel like the thief
The taker of what was never mine
to take.

On the other hand
I feel like the giver
Who offers his heart
to another.

Maybe they in turn
Will shatter my heart
Taking a piece
Which was never theirs to take.

When the time comes
I will rebuild my heart
The heart with a piece now missing
And I will only be able to repair
With the piece I stole before.
1.2k · Jun 2014
lost at sea
the lone survivor is on
his raft at sea
creaking and swaying
in a tide that can't decide
calmness or turbulence

the sun is out yet
the clouds are endless
together in their gray
unison like a blanket
of dust

his eyes greet the waters naught
but opaque and black
were it not for the navy streams
from the poor muddled light
overhead
Might add to it.  Wanted to make a more metaphorical poem.
1.2k · Jul 2015
Traveller
Look up one final time
Greet blinding light once again
An entity bringing neither warmth nor comfort
Just a static flash constantly suspended
Amidst the pale arctic I lie in
No longer.

Darkness take hold, darkness engulf and surround me
See the blank screen, white sprinkles aplenty
A familiar backdrop now a newfound haven.

Thought I'd feel the pull of departure
Instead the numb in body dwindling still sticks
Like splashes upon a vinyl glove.

I spread and I wander
Aimless and away from what was once
Make this sensation spread beyond mere, naked eyes
And realize my endless journey of a destination
Forever suspended, like that blinding light.
1.1k · Apr 2015
The Cage
Here I am familiar
even to myself.

Certain
Confined
Inhibited

I see every
bittersweet word
surrounding
me.

Constant reminders
of what I am.

This cage
is cold to the touch.
Yet it is
so warm to me.
1.1k · May 2014
Empty Sleep
For me, dreams don't come
I must find them, create them
Or lay blank and stuck
1.1k · Jan 2016
To this quiet one,
Less seems to be certain
than it is to most.
No goal, no path
no certainty in the expanse of this
equally wandering sphere.

Yet I do not long for life
to be a never-ending circle on repeat.

My mystery lies in mystery itself
The clues are there yet
scattered, fragmented, apart
like leaves and rocks in a
trickling bed of shallow water.

Harmony may well exist
between these minuscule pieces
I only wish my puzzle was as complete.
1.1k · Oct 2014
Sleep Isn't for the Weak
Sleep is for the resilient
those who relish what they experience
and experience in the light
which dwindles and simmers
with the day.

Sleep is for those
who speak subconsciously
consuming the world
behind wearisome eyes.

Sleeps comes
as the escape
and recovery
while the world
impacts those who remain
awake.

Sleep is the fruit
of every harvest between days and nights,
so the encumbered may survive and thrive.

Sleep breeds the seed
sprouting essences of our minds
dormantly realizing.
actively collecting.

Sleep is the escape
that seizes time and surroundings
so let the end stretch
so I will never awake.
1.0k · May 2014
Blank
I must say
those of arts
writers and painters
so often trivialized
too often

how ironic then
for those who sweep us under
since we--
of words and lines
however similar or not
--are not the ones at expense.

Where's the magic
neither seen nor experienced
in reality,

and where's the escape
from your homes of present
but from us?
the minds who labor away
without showing
but upon the page, sheet or canvas.
1.0k · Nov 2014
Unrequited
Isolation
breeds these ill
thoughts I nourish
with no intent
nor consciousness.

I bore my mind
and my heart
with hope and trust.
Yet still I remain.

Through touch we fell into,
never too far,
for I became comforted.
Was it not mutual?
975 · Apr 2015
I've contemplated suicide
Sometimes I still do
I don't because of the pain
My loved ones would face
A quick word
about Beneath the Surface
by Dream Theater.  

The song is beautiful
first and foremost.  Depressing
but beautiful.  But
it also scares me.  I don't want to
experience what it describes, but
I also have a horrible feeling
that it will eventually, inevitably happen.  

It'd be even worse
if it also happened to the other person
I'd be involved with.  Not only am I scared
for myself, but for them.
I don't want to be
abandoned, left in the dark
shrugged aside like a mute.
I hate to think that I'm capable
of doing the same thing
to someone else.  That scares me.
946 · Jul 2015
When the Birds Flee
Day slowly passes
Its torch to the distance
Beyond the crowd who've gathered
All color will fade too
When the birds flee

Before the folk there stands
A group of men but one
His knees--left and right--knelt
His neck and head bowed
No face behind the black sag of hair
He will no longer be
When the birds flee

Voices ring and ring
Rash like a forest screaming
While the fires are lit
Still are only two
A mother and her daughter
Standing with the wind
Faintly it will wisp
When the birds flee

Life has been cast
Along with the day
Should tomorrow come
The day may turn so gray
Knelt is the man
And now his head shall lie
Away from that which lifted him
Another tale to tell
When the birds flee
Attempting something more lyrical and rhythmic.
935 · Feb 2016
Fall
Standing on the hillside
Stilled winds blanket my skin
I close my eyes and embrace
Worms born of skies and clouds
Blank are the colors they inspire

Lying on the hillside
Earth's feathers caress my limbs
I close my eyes and imagine
My bed sinking beneath the ground
Under may I breathe better than above

Falling down the hillside
Sunless upon the town, small and wilting
I close my eyes and remember
Sensations akin to this, akin to innocence
Come the end of my fall, will either of us stand?

Before this old hillside
A body still as corpses about the air
Open eyes shimmer, puddles of rain
Ashes, dirt and dust swim about this sprawled figure
Clothing for naught, now flesh sings with Her whole
897 · May 2014
Tired Drive, Tired Day
The same doors open
from bedroom to bathroom
and house to car.  
A poor vehicle, it's body stable
yet barely in service
so poor--
cracks and scrapes,
half a grill missing,
the brand and emblem since eroded
and long withered.

A turned key
brings either exhausted
startles or sputters
congesting from the engine.
Or is it just the ignition?

All familiar moments
from the same minute at the same turn
initiating the redundancy to follow.
So that car--my car
shall endure
upon my abandoning
from the minutes before morning's end
to early evening's last light
swelling from the sun's sultriness, creaking
where wheels meet brakes
and they the axis, springs and suspension
as the thin cold does to frail human fingers.
890 · Jun 2015
Uncover Me
Surrounded
All of me contained
Attire but another layer, another mask

Wounds heal and bleed,
heal and bleed, heal and bleed,
Pain never yielding

I observe, I witness
only shadows
and not the glistening
which bore them.

Except for one
at a time.

Time between each flash
inconsistently lapses.

I feel the fear
overtaking
this prolonged era.

Fear unto darkness
What remains
of my own luminescence remains
contained within.

I will bare only when a
Light pierces, blinding
all I know
when I finally open
my eyes.
886 · Jul 2015
So Far Below
I only hope the darkness doesn't
invade you as it does unto me.
Too often I have scrambled
within the pits it digs
over and over.
My arms, my will
may be just enough
to cast you away,
leaving but one victim
to endure the neurotic torture.
Allow it to remain internal
so I shall carry it
alone and eternal.
858 · May 2015
Three Monitors
Endless static rattles my confined domain
home to voices familiar--
always unwelcome.

Prolonged imprisonment; desperation
yields these chains not of mass.
Mere figments they are.

Are the screens and their unintelligible,
motioned illusions abstract enough
to conjure a new image
to obsess over?

Nay, I remain tranced, ridden
in dismay.  No fulfillment.

Every image I decipher
escapes with the last.

Will trickling like icicles
before summer's Sun.

Subject I forever am to
this sadistic therapy.
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