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Jun 2014 · 497
these days
Jun 2014 · 810
The lines on your pupils mark Jupiter's Landscapes
Your soul is a cosmic journey
Your ascension is the sun, where every being draws love and rejuvenation from your glow
Your curves are the pyramids that home Pharaohs and Goddess while they rest
Your tongue moves with gusts that toss rubies into the sky
Your skin is soft and is the colour of my imagination

And in your mind

Sculptures are moulded and music is created
Memories find refuge and old souls laugh
And there are nameless graves.
And caves and mountains and galaxies to explore.
You are Landscapes
That ground existence and home the unwanted. You tell your ancient stories of the first hour glass to be turned by the hands of what was more than man.

You are Landscapes.
Apr 2014 · 738
Soiree for the Somber
She calls it "Soiree for the Somber"; where clowns dance and fools are golden. They speak often with their severed tongues and only on occasion do their hearts beat. I am there. Where she is. And soon our bodies will die of lonely deaths; funerals for coffins. Our minds are where masks go to cry, except there are no tears; only smiles. A museum, where there was once paradise, of drowning arts and melted portraits. Look at these walls and songs of diamond, here we pledge allegiance to the Play. I can feel the air is thickened, thickened with liquor; the atmosphere carries miscounted steps. Listen. Hear it. The noises in the night, the mourning of the sad. Here is where we pledge allegiance
...No beginning and no end...
Feb 2014 · 559
What is an object in the light is a moving shadow in the night.
Stand between them
Shoot them in the head and dance with their demons.
Tessellate and heavy eyes
It's mourning
And I'm still up.
Open my eyes to the blinding light
In an ocean of darkness, I sea.
Time becomes length
Thought becomes sight
Vivid consciousness takes flight
A troublesome delight.
Slip in
Slip out
Dream in dream out
Dayless nights
Tiresome wake
A moving shadow in the night
Is but an object in the light.
Jan 2014 · 757
So much of death's life clung to his limbs. So much thirst drowning his lungs. So much hunger filling his gut.

The man was exhausted. The man was weighed down. The man had lost his pace, and had forgotten his face. Time forgot to matter, idle clocks hung. And I watched. As he pulled on.
Jan 2014 · 1.3k
Conjure of Night
into the core of the night
Into the void- filled emptyness
Where darkness is beautiful
And scissor thoughts are blunted by the light
Where silence is our luxury
Our symbol of depth
Come with us
Where wolves howl at a moonless sky
Where there is no reflection; only absorption,
total takeover of the soul.
Where our eyes are flooded with ravens
And our tears are the wings that free them.
This is where we accept the death that is us.
Jan 2014 · 2.1k
the gradual.
I and I
We are alone
No man is here
For us to lean on
Perhaps it is time
For us to stand on our own

And so we've learnt
That solitude is bravery
But we are a fearful one
With a courageous soul

I and I
With our teary eyes
It is ok to cry
Yet let it not be a sign
Of our weakness for desire

And so we've discovered
Our two legs and two arms
One mind and one heart
One life and one start

I and I
We shall not be broken
By these words that are spoken
Or the party of four

And so from ignorance
We've risen
But by consciousness
We've fallen

I and I
Here, the coward cannot run
But must face crowd
Like a tiger above tame
Unrefined and without shame

And so they WILL learn
To call us by our name
With ease or with strain
But never in vain.

I and I
Be strong
Be brave
For society cannot tell you
Just how to be you.

And soon we will see
That we are destined to be free
Destined for oneness
Peace and harmony.
Nov 2013 · 962
She said:

I am RA
Goddess of the Sun
Sun which I created
From the glow in my Eye.
Rise and fall
But never fail
of the darkest day
Sole star
Souldier star
I am RA
Goddess of the Sun.

Then She said:

Goddess of the Moon
Moon which I moulded
From the art in my Touch
Day and night
But never dark
Of the twilight's paradise
True moon
Full moon
Goddess of the Moon

She is the spirit of dawn,
The spirit of dusk.

She is the sun that she created,
The moon that she moulded.

She is a force
Shift and shape at will.

The Woman In The Mirror.
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
destructive interference
Still waters disturbed.
Unrest within the ripples.
Tranquil destruction;
Wilting weeds and underwater plants.
Drowning in an unqeunchable thirst.
Nov 2013 · 640
I am the Dead Man's Growth.
Sworn under oath
To protect what I loathe

My being is my blackness
As I consciously follow a forgotten path.
My rotten past
A joy that fails to last

Faces that cannot be seen
Whisper cloud secrets
That infect me
Dominate me
And re-educate my subconscious mind.

My hell cannot be reached
But travels as far as my blind hollows can see.
A seed of backward growth
Springs a tree of hatred's most.

Soundless cries
The noise in me now ceases to exist
My body is without a voice
Logic-defying existence.

Winds forget to mourn
My death.
Clouds drift; sun smiles
As who I am
Falls with the moon.
And none of me will exist on Thurday's Dusk.
Nov 2013 · 1.1k
We're all mad here.

Surviving dead
Blood thirsty creatures
Silvers and golds
Notes and cards.
Screeching screams in the night
Wolves silenced by the frowning moon
Yelling children
Drunken fathers
Thieves of innocence
Food that cannot be eaten
Metal to metal
Guns n' gangs
Creatures locked in prison cells
Creatures lurk, disguised in disguise
Turf wars
Wolf in wolf's fur that fails to fit
Pistol whips and
Quick tips
Poor millionaire
Understandings, we'll call them.
Look down
Sit down
Shut down
Lay down
Sign out.
Credit checks and barcodes
Man's soul misplaced
His eyes
His hands
His heart
His love
His peace
His life
Nov 2013 · 1.2k
Day in
Day out
Night in
Night out

Masks that grow with them
In the never-ending act.
Nov 2013 · 1.4k
We Are African.
I am Her.
The embodiment of royalty
A physical manifestation of Her soul
A spiritual movement to Her drum.
I am the Epitome of Zion.

My golden Hide draped in Her pride

I am a Metaphysical Force
Changing form everyday
Becoming Her rivers
And Her Valleys alike.

I speak in Her infinite Tongue of Love
With Her voice
And Her spirit
We are forever.

The Land of the First Trumpet
Where the first Heartbeat was heard
Where the first Sun rose and birthed the first horizon

My Place.
Where the first Moon wedded the Starry African Night Sky.
Where the first mountains praised Her
Where the first Warrior fought
And conquered the darkness.

Her life was breathed into me and so I am abundant.
Every part of me was chosen for greatness.
Delicately, I was created
With perfection
And finesse.

My mind borne of consciousness
Blessed with her essence.
Given Her sight
Given Her touch
Given Her strength
Given Her.

She is the home of plenty
The plethora of Her soulful Aura
Natural wealth

She is what it means to be Human.
Her soul, Her roots, Her vessels, Her.
Africa is what it means to be Alive.

You are Me
And I am Her
We are African.
For Every person in every corner of the world.
Oct 2013 · 586
casual thursday
I was with the grass.
Trees steadily swaying above me
Birds flew like sparks
It was blue with cotton clouds
Drifting calmly about. Tessellating , separating and tessellating again.
The sun was lowering from the darkening sky, preparing to retire
Into the ocean of the azure.
Oct 2013 · 284
To You
You are a creator.
A painter of lyrical ART.
A poet.
My Guru.
Oct 2013 · 553
My Lips To Teach.
Tears roll down my cheeks to my lips and teach them. Teach them to speak, loud and clear of my soul's burdens. Teach THEM to teach the droughted minds that wander, of a Paradise Oasis in the bitter one's Hell. Teach my lips to scream and cry and yell and whisper, loud enough to be gentle, and soft enough to be stern. Tears roll down my cheeks to my lips and teach them to be free.
Oct 2013 · 786
Woman, Black Woman.
Woman, Black Woman.
How she dances
Bare foot, bare pride
Thick black legs
Wider black thighs
They curve and pose
Like the fiercest Tiger.

She is a wave of movement
Gracefully carrying all her
Effortlessly beautiful.
Her eyes rich in colour;
She is rich in soul.
Her crooked smile,
Content with her music,
Has seen many winters
But it is still flawless.
She is elegant, she is powerful.

Her body caresses the
Air around her.
Surrounded by the speckled sky.
Her rhythm is natural,
A dancer beneath
The Blue Light.

Heartbeat to Heartbeat
Music to Soul.
A mysterious phenomenon,
Born of sunset and
Of moonrise.
It is as if her Black Skin,
Along with mother nature,
Are the only raw beauties left
In this man-made world.
Every woman is beautiful.
Oct 2013 · 782
Hard Streets, crooked houses and crack. Bullets flee from the gang's gun only to land inside another man's chest. Turf wars and tall walls, nasty looks and mocking grins; all is detached in this City of Obscurity. Soulless creatures that wander with many daggers in their backs. Dog fights and Dog Fights; they fight like dogs. Bludi Murdah and 2-minute hate speeches. Anorexia. Hunger. Rats and Raw Foods and blackened bitter days. Carrion crows clung to shadows. Jackals breaking rusty locks with jack-hammers, stealing from the poor and taking from the rich. *** for TAT, catch me if you can. Green with envy, green with money; grey and without life.

Then. On the littlest street corner, through the toughest torn tar.

A Rose...
Oct 2013 · 488
Silent Sadness
Silent Sadness.
How three felines perched on legless chairs. Embracing each other; last hope. Buried in music, unable to breathe in silence because their thoughts are too loud. Hidden within drowning caskets, trying to break free with every last breath. Cemented grins, underlying frown. Emotions unreal; barely living facades. There are no souls left to save, they all died long before their deaths. Soft skin, coarsed whispers.
Silent Sadness.
How three felines perched,
Have forgotten how to live.
Oct 2013 · 782
I am.
I am everything.
I am good
I am evil.
I am love and I am fear.
I am success,
I am failure.
I am spiritual
And I am physical.
I am consciousness yet ignorance.
I am change and I am routine.
I am joy,
I am anger.
I am peace; I am unrest.
Tranquility and uproar.
I am truth
I am deceit.
I am a vessel
I am connection
I am solitude.
I am enlightened and I am
I am imagination,
I am creation.
I am attachment and relief.
I am imprisonment,
I am freedom.
I am me and I am you.
I am earth,
I am man.
I am the sun and the moon.
I am soul and I am matter.
I am light
I am darkness.
I am.
Last night I went on journey, to
Africa, tomorrow's freedom.

A native to the richest soil, to the deepest roots.
I was unbound, at midnight, when
Spirits roam free.
It was beautiful.
Foot for foot, I strode into the Her growth.
Vessels howled and cried to the moon, trees danced and swayed to Her song.
I looked up, my sight destined for the horizon, and I saw.
I saw the mountain, souldiers firmly tied to their land, but they were reaching for the night sky, to the African Praise Song.
What Africa showed me, is far beyond any sensual comprehension. It was spiritual metamorphosis, The awakening.
I heard the valley's river, gently rolling and crashing and singing along.
Freedom, pure freedom.
Like a new born's first cry, like my first breath; and from it, I was birthed.
Her glow was effortless, showing light, before my young wide eye, to Her land.

Last night I went on a journey, to Africa,
Tomorrow's glory.

Drums roared loud into the eve,
Entranced, were Her people, as they danced to the fire's light.
Proud to have risen from the same soil that Her kings and queens fought tirelessly for.
Our Kings and Queens.
Forever we are the Kings and Queens of Africa, for their courage and royal beauty runs deep in our veins.
Yes, Kings and Queens.
Her Highness ruled from the earliest days, when Haile, The Ethiopian, conquered the lion.
And Her Highness shall rule after the last trumpet calls.
Africa, Blood Fayah.

Last night I went on a journey, to Africa,
Tomorrow's sunrise.
Sep 2013 · 1.7k
Spring blossoms from her delicate rest. Birds reform, coloured spirits fly back into their wings.

Little flowers rise and rejoice, for their sun is back to life; grinning, glimmering. Baby buds bow to the majesty of The Ritual.

Whispers from the wind's echoes of the seeds that dare to grow. Echoes that speak of the bravery that shells the seeds' gentle beginnings.

In this world of pulchritude, where fairness flags danger, the grace of Earth's Growth knows true beauty.

As though each cell carries a letter, that will soon become a story. Sweet writes, cursive romance, the Tale of Two Red Roses.

Mountains reach for the skies; green with serenity. Waves leap with loyalty to embrace the shores; an eternal love affair.

The glow of the ocean's soul lingers in the shortest night. The moon creeps in, to be closer to our hearts for they've all become warmer, flooded with affection.

The rains are kinder, a light drizzle if you will. Hear The Ritual, see it. Feel it, Spring is coming.
Sep 2013 · 413
The End?
Feet. Soles. Hair. Floating

A boy. His words. Mornings. Moon.

Summer. Spring. Autumn. No leaves.

The last grain. It fell. Sun down. Lights out.

Shattered frame. One million pieces.

Broken silence. One million voices.

Shut eyes. I'm not listening.

Cover ears. I'm not watching.

Running waters. Off the edge.

I love you. Open the door.

She speaks. Look down.

Front to back. Down to up.

Moving towards it. Backwards.

Flowers bloom. Petals fall.

Break the window. See it all.

The End?
Sep 2013 · 446
Do you see what's beneath the yks?

                               The sanity's madness on thrae

     The liar's truth in nevaeh

                Can you see what's beneath the sky?
Confusion in the orderly fashion. Ruthlessly kind equivocators.
Sep 2013 · 1.0k
In this world.
Hate-driven acts are applauded
And the hunger for power
remains deep-rooted in our hearts.

Disregard for life; ****** and war,
All in search for what will one day end us.
To each his own, left alone.
Every man for himself.

Peace; OUR corrupted illusion,
The Forbidden Fruit takes over.
As pain constricts our joy
We are left out in the storm.

Tears of a mother for her lifeless young
In her unnatural arms.
Copper hairs, metal burdens haunt
Her mind.

Vivid divisions between The Rich
And the poor. The serpents chauffeured  in black greed through
poverty-ridden streets.

Gun shots. Duck, pull, dodge, ****.
Endless Enmity.
We are.

Decaying skies, Black Murk.
Falling Heavens. Remnants of beauty
Stolen by hell.
Blind destruction. Burning cold.

Wingless Doves, Hoodlum Pigeons
And Voiceless Parrots.
Stolen freedom,

Darkness reigns from dawn through dusk. The sun has died, leaving the
Moon in mourning. There is no
Morning left in this night.

Painful truths, heartbreaking lies.
Bitterness consumes every breath
Calamity at every corner.
There is no history; only history's repetition.

Let the story
Of our ruthless ruin
Be known.
How We Have All Been HIT.
Sep 2013 · 513
Artist's Art
Spewing the blood in my heart on a canvas.
The art of love.

Throwing into the sky the sounds of my pulse. The beauty of a heartbeat.

Joy in the textures of the secrets the sun shows. The consciousness in touch.

Flowing poetry is my music for the deaf, true noise that cannot be heard. The light in word.

Birds flying with none but the wings of their souls. The colour in freedom.

Taken by the heat waves, water in the barren; thirstless. The grace in inner peace.

Pulchritude's Hide, delicacy of a rough shell; Apollo's painting. The artistry of skin.

I am an Artist, my Being my Art.
Sep 2013 · 676
The strength and power to control what you will.

Moon tides leaning forward, unwillingly praising the shore's glare.
Slaves that dance and chant in the ocean of glass. Uncontrollable Scintillation at dawn, beyond your limbs' imagination.
I speak of powerful motion, along to the fiery drum beat of a universal heart.
Mindlessly Swaying to the crashing of waves, heat waves, waves; well, the music of the earth humbly beneath your feet.
Of national rhythm, spectacle truths, that spectrum of light that teaches after dark times.

The power and strength to do your will.*

The blush of rose in the sky near night time. Articulation of life's pleasures  into a single moment.
The milky way, every way, life's way; way.
To give the pheonix her flame, to give the sun her glow.
Control of the moons above us, the star, the night. Conductor of rhythm, music flowing through your veins in its perfection.*

**The strength. Imagine.
Sep 2013 · 1.2k
I exist to resist all your heavy-headed hits. Your words in stone, more absolute than death.
The way you glance below your jagged bridge, a grin dried in arrogance.
Your footsteps frighten the earth, but cease to shake my defiance.
Gravels cave, underfires exposed.
But even then I'll swim, in your ocean of shallowness, tigers on my tail,
Paradise Mirages mocking my waterless skin, even then, I said, I will swim to the Revolution's Shore.

Nevermind your ignorance, seeing blue skies and arguing them RED.
Deluded certainty, swearing on a man's soul to prove your point and feed your obsession.
I say "yes", you say "of course",
but no doubt I'm in the wrong.
I say "maybe" you say "perhaps,
and so you've proved your wisdom blind.

Mastered conspiracies, you've convinced your lies true.
In your mind you walk on water, as you strike your soles on mere tar.
Governor's Confetti lay dead on Governor's Ground;
fool's bravery in act, leading souldiers from behind.

This world,
The Principal's Playroom: clay towers and cars, play moneys and guards.
In the sun, your tin castles smile and glimmer in the shine.
But inside, hollowness reigns and you fail to see.
Eyes and Eyes fall to your sleep,
calamity by the masses as you care not to care.

Seconds linger as misted windshields shield the drunk driver,
and not even the death he brings can break the glass.
Deaf man with hearing ears,
the blind one who can see.
Sep 2013 · 61.9k
girl-child woman
Picked up and dragged through the air of violent twilight.
Crash landing into each world of pain.

Grow up; learn up she told herself.

Red lipstick, tight dress; bad girl good. Unrested she was, she was unrest.
Unrest in her mind, unrest in distress.
That girl was nocturnal,
her life was night.
Although star & moons glared,
reluctantly lit,
her blue skies were none but bottomless pits.
Duck duck GOOSE, once a child without care;
I choose YOU, life spitefully said.

GROW UP; LEARN UP, she scolded herself.

Keep your head up, keep it down.
Too much air, too much water,
Low then high then low again.
One minute was 60,
but she blinked and it was over.
So much time was so little.  
Disregarded, she became the Object of obsession.
Danced too fast, danced too slow;
never by the beat of her heart.

GROW UP, LEARN UP; she forgot herself.

The madness before the storm,
the storm of never-end.
She had to grow up, she had to learn up.
Untimely Growth
Sep 2013 · 874
Scorch me.
Your skin igneous; armoured with flames of flight.
Blue fires; mesmerizing colours of spiritual reactions fill the air.
Dancing shadows light the night.
Put out, light up and put out again
as midnight smoke rises into midnight sky. Honey bees fail to turn away.
Union of the cobras
As Egyptian kings and queens grin.
Southern suns blaze blissfully beside the moon.
Finish line content, racing at a gradual pace.
Together, together, Our Ritual Begins.
Sep 2013 · 384
I refuse to be imprisoned
By their labels and guns.
I am part of NO category.
I am NO statistic.
Tired of following the misled.
Sep 2013 · 524
look again
pulchritude hides beneath
The words of
A ****** Love Letter
Aug 2013 · 229
Aug 2013 · 556
Moon's Mourning
In the Moon's Morning, lay The December Skyline, that sang the songs of the Hollow Man's lullaby.
The Black Sun's Days showed a truth they all feared and so, like children, they hid under The Moon's Skirt.
And when they finally understood the honest face of morn, was when the sun shone no more.
Under The Moon's Skirt, they were forced to live. A glimmer they destroyed for it's beauty was the darkness they feared.
Destroying what we fear; left to live with what we destroyed.
Aug 2013 · 494
This Morning's Dream
Keys were taken from us and so we begged them to stay.
The clouds were everywhere and they were black and they were full.
As we sat under the night sun, a hole opened up in the brume and, through it, dog pilots commenced their disputes.
They shot and formed and shot some more until the Weeping Moon rose and the sun wept no more.
Black Tears fled the sky and dyed The Earth's colours blue.
Angel Myst lifted from our souls and bid their shadowy hollows adieu.
Oblivious; perched, we blissfully remained until the Curse of Consciousness in Calamity was later regained.
We are killing Her and we don't even see it.
Aug 2013 · 703
one by one.
   as the first sun rises, each raindrop
  falls from
the Gutter's Edge.
                each after the last.
              a foot a time,
           setting the hunter's trail
        through Natura's White.

                   inhale, exhale.
                 weary heart-beats in-sync
                vivid sense, one with the Myst
              steamy breath in fog.

                         awaken, scintillate.
                       shying pupil
                     exposing Iris' Secrets
                   by light streams through blinds.
A Journey :)
Aug 2013 · 1.1k
The Theory
the light.
                                        birth.            ­      
love               tears.            the dark.
         war          spinning.         tunnels
visions.    misunderstanding
impatience.          eroded.­ sidewalk.
  family                  ******     poverty.        growth    john &yoko.;              mutate
  the circus.       plastic bags.   ugly     salvation.         scent        factory. aids
             dreams                     anger.       justice    nightmares       LIFE      disorder
              ­     pain. colour             blankets      wealth. india
peace!   hate.         alzheimer's    
       treasure seekers.        adolf
     radiation.  alienation                    pressure.       chaos.defiance   desperation.    abstract.    sunrise
  april    window cracks.  moonset.   lsd.ecstasy                barney        sight                 euphoric frenzy.    katrina
     touch           tall tales.
religion.   spiral. staircase.  ufo
                  floodgates.     angel billows  
                      violins.   art                      
Aug 2013 · 1.2k
I refuse.
Driven waves by steady feet.
Metamorphic Rock soldier,
shaped by the wind,
but I am still here.
Evolution they fear;
I am my own.
My beaded drum,
I created its sound,
And so will move to
Its beat.
The Headed Index,
The Poisoned Voice;
The demons I
Have conquered.
They cannot understand it;
They cannot withstand it.
A force they cannot fathom,
Is a force they must destroy.
But I refuse.
Overcrowded BandWagon,
A Party of Four.
Tales of tails that fear their own
I refuse.
Aug 2013 · 537
Silent Sadness.
How three felines perched on legless chairs. Embracing each other; last hope. Buried in music, unable to breathe in silence because their thoughts are too loud. Hidden within drowning caskets, trying to break free with every last breath. Cemented grins, underlying frown. Emotions unreal; barely living facades. There are no souls left to save, they all died long before their deaths. Soft skin, coarsed whispers.
Silent Sadness.
How three felines perched,
Have forgotten how to EXIST.
Jul 2013 · 212
I have nothing to say.
Jul 2013 · 615
Irresolute in Four
Obscurity in The City

                                Roots in The Desolate

          Taken in by Wind

                Lone tone in Paradise

                                          Black shades in Red

                     Holding the drum's Roar

         Crooked grains in Glass

                              Shot down stars Glow

   Rug by the Roadside

              Crimson tide in Blue

                              Ghost windows without Paine

                  Tireless metal boxes perched

      Torpid tornadoes remain still

                      Structure floating motionless; inert

          Drifting, they lay, dead in one Place.
Things that d r I f t cannot lean on another one's spine. As each line d r I f t s, no letter clings to the border. And FIXED they will always remain.
Jul 2013 · 602
I breathe stones with my heavy heart.
Angry at the sun for leaving me in the dark.
Breaking twigs and pulling grass, to keep the mind, occupied.

Soles cold; bare feet on ice.

A naked infant on the streets in June.
Staring at the window, looking at nothing.
Empty and distant, yet filled with rage and nearing

Split hairs and pulsating veins,
Trembling fingers; drowning pupil.
Lone pebble in the desert, chair with no legs.
A Plant dying in the corner of my blooded eye.
It's leaves wilting, like little green teardrops.

Content frames holding within them, memories of a joy that once was.
Thoughts like a dagger, the sharpest blade in your kitchen.
The knife that you hide from your teenage kin.

My busy world, my lonely place, my mind.
Jul 2013 · 367
The Previous Present
They were here.
I can see them.
I can hear how they clapped and shouted.

I can smell their vintage scent
I can feel their dead presence.
I can taste their attention in the
Midnight air.

Performing for no one,
performing for them.
Speaking at my loudest
So the dead can hear.

The Dead Audience, more alive
Than the one that breathed.
Energy flowing through the veins
Of the ones who were deceased.

They were here.
I can see them.
How they clapped.
And shouted.
Jul 2013 · 399
A face without features.

A letter without words.

A hand without fingers.

Silence without noise.

Skin without touch.

The forest without trees.

Night without the moon.

A soldier without courage.

Eyes without sight.

The spot without X.

A calling without a name.

Love without hate.

A frame without a picture.

A bird without wings.

A swan without grace.
Jul 2013 · 619
Going Up In Smoke
Beautiful destroyer.
Runaway Doves; stained clouding.
A beautiful woman, bittered by reality.
Fleeing this earth, dressed in black.
Reaching for the sky, for a clearer conscious.
Her relic soul, to be rested on the holy billows.
Going up in smoke, an Angel of Azure.
This one is to the Burning Tyres at The Factory.
Jul 2013 · 680
To The Porter
The white door ahead of me.
How it stands
blankly, not letting me in,
on the secrets it holds.
A fear of the unknown, of what lies behind it.
A letter to The Warden; Hell's Gatekeeper:
I am Nearing Dementia.
Literally staring at a white door :)
Jul 2013 · 964
It was only brief,
The moment of our connection.
But in that breath,
I felt what I had never known.

He looked at me,
Broken and senseless,
And taught me a truth
That no man should ever learn.

Separated by just a window,
We lived two worlds apart.
But in that distance,
We met in the middle.

I'd known him forever,
In only a second.
I'd felt his heartache,
Through a timeless touch.

The winds of life
Had weathered his eyes
And his hardened nails
Carried dirt and memories.

I could not make out
The story in his soul,
For my eyes were drowning,
pulled underwater.

But that was not necessary
His pain was made clear.
Magnificent storyteller,
How he shared without fear.
Saw a homeless man the other day. He was broken; we were broken.
Jul 2013 · 755
The Sweep
Are the trees free?

I see how they dance, lone in the forest, forced to sway by Nature's Magician;
A warrior tyrant known as Wind.

Do they move to the tidal breeze's rhythm, hypnotized and generalized?

Or do they move to their own indie music, spiritual and free?

The waterless storm tumbles violently inland, grumbling and growling and stepping on trees and sand.

The leaves silently rattle and slowly begin to speak, stories of gloom and whispers of deceit.

The roots pull and grip and handle the storm, much pain and withstanding until each one is broken and torn.

The bark, clinging to twigs like a heavy-set leash, a harmless dog shackled down like a vicious beast.

Through thunder and lightning strikes or the bright moonlight, the tall trees stand short, everyone of every sort.

Woken up and forced into sleeping by moody, indecisive seasons. Taken aback by the events of intangible attack. The trees are controlled by a lifeless form and forced to sit lifelessly in the land of the norm.
Jul 2013 · 631
Did I tell you about your eyes?

It's your beautiful story that's true.

They twinkle with hope in the darkest days, they blossom like daisies in Mid Summer's Way.

Your eyes whisper the truth about love into my ear.

They sing the song of heart break and pain.

They dance and laugh when light falls into your arms.

Your eyes cry and mourn for your lonely tearless soul.

They bring comfort and peace and a sense of jubilee.

Your eyes are like angels that watch over me.

They are the beauty that hides in the corals of the sea.

Your eyes, they told me how joy is meant to be, they planted enchantment into my ever-weeping being.

Your eyes are as beautiful as the first stream of newly risen sunshine, in, through the imperfections of your room's defensive curtains.

Your eyes are my reggae, my Marley, my peace.

Your eyes are my friends when times are deep.

Your eyes are perfect. Well, of course they are, they're a part of you.

Did I tell you about your eyes?

its your beautiful story of two.
Jul 2013 · 620
I had a dream last night
it was as vivid as you.
I was as I am
and my senses as they are.
I remember the dream
from top to toe
With every sensation
in limpid detail.
In the planet outside,
I rested my sole
on the ice-tiped blades.
I felt splendor through my spine as Its bones bent and curled alone.  
Abaft the noting of
a harshly kind earth,
I danced
to the sharp song of its night.
Spreading my arms
and lifting my chin,
I closed my eyes
to soak it all in.
The chills surrounding me,
raw and rimy, were
lustrous and simply plain. Through the journey of
sensual assault,
I heard shivering leaves
in the stinging gloom,
And creaking trees
with their torrid barks.
I saw the moon's humble grin,
as she invited me into obscurity.
She'd intrigued another empty soul.
At the sight of her gentle beam, I knew the moon would allow my admiration;
I knew she would embrace
the orchid in my eye.
And so the moon did.
I felt her breeze as it kissed my skin.
I felt the beat of my speeding heart, I was humbled by
thrill revealing itself in goose bumps.
Amidst the winter scent,
Were flowers waiting to blossom,
as if the ungrown buds
were longing for spring.
The glow of the stars,
hidden behind barren night sky,
was mesmerizing;
like consented hypnosis
by natural illusion.
I was drawn in to the eventide, I was lured into the outside.
Silvery captivation by the whispers of shadowy darkness.
A place I had never seen,
a world I had never known,
A place kept secret by the moon's sweetly glittered glow.
It felt like the road, like a journey of revelation,
And it reminded me of the consciousness you so chivalrously showed.
It restored your innocent touch,  it made me feel alive.
The taste of mid-eve,
so severe and true.
I had a dream last night,
and it was about you.
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