I thank you very much for finding beauty in life
Unstained by the toxins of evil
As if looking through the clearest of glass
You have illustrated the perfect picture of man
You are an oracle of our time
And an ancient well known for your passion
But I only wish I could be in that colorful world you paint
A character in your perfect stories
Hayao Miyazaki- Thanks for the adventures.
A boy stood solely
With his back to the sun he cast a shadow
Arching, twisting and blotting out the light
He held his toys in his hand, his momentary joys
And through his tears, through gritted teeth
He cursed the world who had done him wrong
But past that hate that deafening rage
Around that shriveled grudge
He had made his choice
He had picked his lasting seal
For on that day the young boy desired only destruction
And to this path the toddler ran
For it was the only way he knew how to get home
Tearing through the beaten path
A route taken by his father
A route taken by the wolves
The boy, to his delight, finally found what he was looking for
But in his malice
And in his undying hate
The quest for destruction stole even that away from him
And ripping his home out from the ground
He was left with the only things he had carried
But discovered something that made no surprise
He was only left with carnage
We are trapped in infinitum
Swirling whirlpools, timely decay
Reach out to grasp the present
It slips through your fingers
Fight against the endless days
We but only glimpse forever
A stain upon the endless sea
Compete with existence
Rage against complacency
We are trapped in infinitum
Gasping for air in our pocket universe
Existence is a bitter tasting seed
One that plants itself
From the first breath to the last
Rage against the dying light
Or it will consume you
With the absence of words
There is only silence
Across the water I've seen those lights,
sparkling lights above the sea.
How have I caught those dancing brights
but have never been before?
Across the water I've yearned to feel
the ocean breeze slipping through those streets.
To hear the gravel crunch with my steps,
the soft patter of shoes on sandy grass.
Across the water I've seen that town
from the bridge I've been on countless years.
How have I never been before?
And ventured across that sea?
At first I said we could never be
and things would never work out.
But little did I know,
that it wasn't that way at all.
It was because I was afraid,
afraid to lose someone else again.
A friend once told me
Some things are impossible to do
Impossible to reach
Impossible to achieve
No matter how hard someone tried,
They would never meet their goals
And I looked at him
And with a solemn heart
Only fools bind themselves
To the realities of this World
It's sad that with age,
the less dreams we tend to have.
Many a night the older and tired sleep,
wishing for dreams to inpsire them,
just like years ago.
The sun set behind the shambled buildings
All that was left before our end
And on the wind I heard Them
Those left to plague the dark corners
To hide in the cracks of darkened halls
Swings swayed and street lights flickered
Screams echoed through the cities hallways
Deserted cars like matchbox toys
Moans of the dead filled the air
Friends and family gone and passed
In an instant before the storm
I sat nestled in my tree for the night
As if anything had changed
I fear the day will come, when everyone has packed their bags
When they have gone their own ways
To faraway places and lands
I fear the day when friends drift apart
When memories fade and names are forgot
To places never to be remembered
I fear the day when I sit in this old town and I have no one to call on to play
When the spring breeze and the awakening trees only beckon another season of doubt
To only haunt me in my lonesome
I fear the day when I must say, I never needed you anymore
When I turn my back to the kindness of friends
To look away when they come to my aid
I fear the day when I fail to succeed, when others have grown and prospered
When I am rejected again, tossed down and thrown out
To search again for another source of pay
I fear the day when I marry a girl
When she puts her trust all in me
To have her forever but in the back of my mind make sure her life is happy as can be
I fear the day when my child is born
When a boy looks up in my eyes and beckons me
To come and sit by his side
I fear the most the day when I cannot say I wrote this poem many years ago
When I am old and decrepit, senile and covered with dust
To die and and be forgotten like always
As long as I have my things
The world is fine with me
As long as I have what I need to be happy
The world is fine with me
As long as I don't suffer in any way
The world is fine with me
But take those things away from ME
And then we have a problem
-Think differently about the world around you.
At first we try to understand
We probe around the idea
But our biases get in the way
And smudge the lenses we look through
We weigh our morality
Trying to fit it within what we believe
To be right
Eventually we hate it
And then it becomes our enemy
Because we fear
How it will change us
They lowered him down into his earthy hole where dirt once lay
Cold and sunken eyes, closed within the wooden frame
With puffy clouds the sun continued to race across the dark set sky
As the mass of black suited girls and boys sniffled good byes
Yet I only stood and stared
At the man reduced to his fragile box of rectangular shape
Who once thought and loved like I
Some needed a shoulder for help, for comfort
And the box slowly fell with the most gentle sway
More clouds came in as final words were said
And just as the last tears were shed
The first drops of rain did fall
As if the world was crying
What a sad day for rain
I'm so sorry
That I did not treat you better
I let my anxieties
Ruin the moment
Ethereal rift, shimmering tide
Calm as ripples dancing across the sea
A standstill beauty where we coincide
Gazing gently, comforting me.
Blanketing sparkle of speckled dust
Swirling sea foam and warming light
Cocooned bliss within complacent trust
Soothing me softly with twinkles bright.
Stepping onto glassy plains
Mirrors to my internal plight
Reflection of eternity remains
As I fade to the night.
Floating faintly I drift away
As gentle gales push ever so slight
Embracing me, my love, I cannot stay
As I fade into the night.
Blankly staring, gaze of hardened stone
Clench fists whitening, knuckles gripping thin air
Jaw line straining, grinding teeth to powdered dust
No words do describe tormented rage
Melted with fury
Churned with bitter taste
Like rusted nails
Wire of the sharpest shape
Acid of purest state
A burden to my being
Devil upon shoulder
Fire of unending blaze
No fruit to quench its thirst
He sat atop his marble throne
In silks of radiant hue.
His enemies, to wolves he'd thrown
His decrees were swift and true.
In his right hand he held power to love
In his left, the power to destroy.
Atop his towering throne above
Iron grip he did employ.
He came from nothing and now had all
And cut down a thousand men.
Saw the rise of brutes and fall
And vowed to rid the world of them.
Atop his regal pedestal of stone
On the backs of nameless men.
Alone atop that white marble bone
A tyrant sat just as back then.
Dust did settle soft, upon the bookshelf near the sill
Like Autumn leaves, books scattered the floor
Across the rug of amber golden till
A mahogany desk filled the corner wall
A waste basket still vacant with crumpled rough drafts of previous attempts
Held the memories of good times and bad
Times etched into our memory
To be held onto and carefully nurtured
To fall back on when our world is a rainy set
A warm candle burnt beside lamp, laying so carefully over the desk
Like a balancing act it stood so still
Only for the flame to flicker
Dust did settle soft, upon the bookshelf near the sill
This which sparked my imagination, my head in which to fill
I was much too scared to look over the edge
The cavernous drop had my stomach inside and out
My hands were clammy and I felt my whole world fall away
Along with the day that I'm so blessed to say
That after lookin' down that ridge line heart attack
Brought my conscience full circle-
And now I'm back
With my eyes newly awakened
Back in touch with my soul
Shivered off all the doubt
Applied some heat to that cold
Like the fresh dew that sleeps on the grass every time
The sun wakes up and reassures that we're fine
Maybe sometimes we have to fall down once in a while
So we can get back up and learn all the steps over again.
So here I am,
Like a new born child, seeing the whole world wild
I'm reborn again brother
And doing it my way.
One step at a time.
Every day by day.
I am in a constant battle
A ceaseless war between what I desire
And what I know is truth
The truth that what I desire is distant
Scarce and miles from where I stand
A balanced plate on a stick
Ready to fall
At any time
With the slightest touch
I force myself to be content
Suppressing the jealousy and pain
I am a stone balanced upright in a dense forest
Waiting and waiting
To find me delicately placed
And relieve me of my duty
To carry me home
And hold me close
And tell me they need me there
What happens to the mediocre man in an opposite world
Where the poor are rich
And rich are poor
Where the tables turn and opposite ends flip
For man always cries for the poor and dirtied souls
Or envies the affluent and golden kings
But who cares for the man halfway there
Who stands at the midpoint between the rich and impoverished
For the sad truth is, that when a sealed jar of water is flipped on its cap
The Bottom becomes Top
And the Top becomes Bottom
But the water remains where it had always been before
Never changing any better nor worse
No one cries for the mediocre man
It started with the music,
her love for music carried her round.
And oh how she danced with that tune,
how she swayed like wind amongst the trees.
Her talent grew with her passion
and people came far and wide to see her prance.
Fate finally brought her largest performance,
the world sat hushed as the lights dimmed and curtain rose.
Stepping out into the light she was cheered
she was loved.
Carrying the world on her shoulders,
proving to those watching in awe,
that she was the most magnificent of them all,
the "meilleur des meilleurs".
Her body moved and her arms stretched
and on that night the crowd roared
and cheered forever it seemed.
Because she proved two things,
she was the best in the world
and that she no longer loved to dance.
For she realized she danced for the sake of the end.
She realized she forgot what it was like
to love to dance for herself.
Have we found ourselves back again
In dark times of hatred and back when
We could not recognize a man of color
We dared not consider him another
Now we try to relegate
Those who have a different fate
And punish them for who they love
How they dress or how they talk
Why must we repeat ourselves
And find new victims, so we may delve,
Deeper into our most sinister plots
To put these "heathens" to a stop
History has seen it, time again
Every moment we come around a bend
We hate what is unknown.
Sky grey, falling back into its peaceful slumber
Quiet house with an orchestra of the night playing outside the window
Cracked ever so slightly the world breathes its final breathes before dipping into steady sleep
Warm shower, accompanied with fresh scents
Warm sheets ruffled around you
Cocooned like a caterpillar before flight
Bed is where I belong.
Within my grasped palm of a mind
I hold a story that the world has never heard
A story where man meets his match
Where the lines between monster and god run grey
I hold in me the finest story to shed itself to reality
A glistening monarch emerging from its cocoon
Within my grasped palm of a mind
I clasp a story of a lifetime
I simply must release my fist
And rearrange these letters
To let loose this grand tale.
Behind that broken smile
Atop their pristine steeds
Unbeknownst yet for a while
There are the hero's needs
To be a hero is to be broken
One who sacrificed it all
Who took the hero call
They've seen the ugly side of man
The dark side of the moon
When others turned tail and ran
They were the last ones in the room
Behind that broken smile
As they wave to cheering fans
They've not cried for quite awhile
Eyes bare like desert sands
Why do men argue?
Why do they fight?
Is it ideology that sets them apart?
Pointing fingers at one another to prove each other wrong?
Perhaps an answer to that question that has boggled the minds of men for so long,
has been right in front of them from the very beginning.
Fear is the biggest perpetrators of war and argument,
racism, hate, destruction.
And it is because of this fear that spouts the worst crimes in history,
the greatest atrocities of mankind.
Take for instance the armor of man,
the metaphoric clothing one puts on to shield himself from criticism,
from those who disagree.
And perhaps from the beginning of time man has sought to silence those who have disagreed with them.
The tyrannical majority who fear new ideas
or simply love their ideas too much.
But strip that armor, that fear, leaving behind just intellectuals.
Casting aside the weapons and tools of war for the briefest of moments
and maybe the wars and arguments will settle where truth will arise.
We stand at the precipice of eventual destruction
tip toeing along safety and danger.
Each man not a waypoint but a door
and within forever, inside infinity.
Diving within and below the collective unconscious
each man a world unto itself.
Every woman a universe, each child a galaxy.
We found how to open these doors,
shedding light across the bleakness, the ash.
But do we dare see what is on the other side?
Does man deserve such divinity?
Realization is by far the sweetest of all things.
No amount of money can buy it
when they turn.
Oh when they turn!
Or when you lock eyes you can almost taste it!
A bitterness blooms and fills the room.
Some react with grief,
mostly anger out of desperation.
Because when the jig is up and they finally know,
the curtain lifts and the ghost writer steps forward,
Are villains born or are they made?
Well why not both.
Perhaps we straddle being heroes and villains from birth to death.
And if anyone can be a hero, then anyone can be a villain.
Somedays we are heroes, some days we are villains.
And perhaps that is what Hamlet meant.
We are what we choose to be yet born to choose what we wish to be.
Good or Evil.
Thinking makes it so.
Have you ever seen
a misshapen cloud?
I think not.
So be like a cloud.
When there is infinity,
there is never truly uniqueness.
Perhaps in the moment,
a minor blip in existence.
But an atom in the never-ending string,
is only that.
They say a snowflake is never the same
as the others that fall around it.
For some that is a warming thought indeed.
But they are all snowflakes one in the same.
When the lakes have dried and leaves have rot
As we choke upon the air we breathe
In anguished cries, shall we ask "Where have we got?"
"Is this really how man will leave?"
As the waters rise and drown out our screams
When acid falls from clouds above
With swollen fish floating down the streams
At what point will we say enough?
As the animals die from poisoned bile
From the ground in which they fed
We shrug and scoff, "That won't happen for awhile"
Nestled comfortably in our beds
When the world is grey and full of dust
When the last living things are us
From the gutters, disease approaches
As we spread across the world like roaches.
It was just yesterday I had my birthday party
With puffy cake and excited smiles
As candles burnt and laughter echoed
When tiny hands and tiny faces turned
Dark rooms filled with jubilant kids
Eagerly sat to get their piece
When the presents were opened
And warming hugs as people left
But here I sit writing yet another poem
Another part of my life inscribed in words
Why does it feel like life comes so quick
Just when you think life is dullest
Boring and tasteless
You remember that birthday
And the fictional world you thought could never be found
But here we sit
Understanding that the time has flown over our heads
Wondering where it has possibly gone.
I feel no older than I had been the day before
But yet we celebrate it all the same
As if walking through a brand new door
Or completing another level in the game
But Happy Birthday to me
Am I allowed to say things like that?
I surely guess we will see
The next trick I can pull out of my hat
Hopefully it will take me far
Oh music box of darkest wood
So strong, so prominent is your frame
Bold with silver, chiseled beauties brass
A polish of delicate touch
Velvet organs do you hold
Of soft padded shelves and olden gold
A trophy upon a dusted shelf
Crested chest of workman's name
Patched with fervent trust
Lined in steel like curving roads
Your story holds remembered times
Saddened tunes and lifted cries
Broken hearts and twisted lies
And happiness all the same
An elegance none can recreate
Prominent upon your resting place
But beyond the outer shell but holds
The truth to your exterior frame
For when opened there plays
A soft melodic piece does sound
Floating notes from your soul
For when you hear the truth
One can't stop but listen
For all of us are like a music box
Where our melodies capture the world
From depths below and tangled threads
Where cobwebs stow the darkest machinations
Caught like droplets from the dew
Poisoned liquid, envelop mends.
Old wounds bite deepest
Where they're cut again
Where mold and mildew inch and spread
Dark bruises form and grow in hues
Green, yellow, red, and blues.
Bleached wounds that hide beneath the skin
Deep below that soft pink shield
And from within they do not yield
Old anger enflames those ancient wounds.
Some are seen like boiled flesh
Of scars that cut too deep years ago
Or of pains that never truly healed
Be cautious and be wary though.
Of stabs and cuts
Invisible to the eye
Be wary of the blights within
Wounds that slice and gnaw each passing day
Untreatable blights without any cures
Cancerous burdens who always stay
Nothing stings more than the bloodied tip
Which burns in my back and makes my blood drip
And if I had known this would be my fate
No reason could I conjure, nor could create
But alas, it is so, and my back has been gorged
Burning the bridge of trust which was forged
And pitifully I lay with my face in the dirt
As you walk away from this pain and unsettling hurt
A fool that I was to put faith in a lie
The result in which my trust will perish and die
And as you recede in the darkness, into the foggy night
With your cape draped across your face, shading the light
I will be here, with your knife in my spine
Where your devious acts had sat down
To Feast and To Dine
I wasn't expecting her to show
She arrived as a pleasant surprise
I kept my excitement at a low
My stomach full of butterflies
Your favorite toy from childhood
The sport you loved to play
That book that kept you fascinated
The friends you made in school
That bad grade you got on your test
Your first kiss you ever had
The fights you had with your parents
That moment your life was perfect
The moments it was not
That first time you were away from home
The one secret you'll never tell a soul
That person you love to be around
The dog you saw on the street
That sense of accomplishment
The loneliness you sometimes feel
That time you laughed so hard your stomach hurt
Your first hangover
The moment you thought your life was in shambles
That good show you recommend to everyone
The books that shaped your worldview
That character you want to be
The moment you realize
That all things come to an end
The world looks much less scary
That it did before reading this
The timeline you live in
That you inhabit
The things you do
That will all fade
A french melody played as I sipped the hot liquid within my cup
The lyrics told of a man who had returned from war
But when he came back to his town, there was no one left
And he was lost without his old friends, empty without his home
The café was quiet but the slow murmur of small chit chat
You had to take a dingy to get to the respectable little joint
They lined the wooded dock and a fading light blinked
A slight breeze came up through the villa
But it was a warm breeze and the water remained calm
The twinkle of the town across the sea winked at me as I sat
I felt like the soldier from war
Siting here inside this floating place
But a speck surrounded by the unknown
A plane flew above the small city
A fishing boat chugged away with its lonesome
I stood and payed the bill
And drove my dingy across the water back into town
He cared so much it consumed him
Moderation was not in his creed
He sacrificed his soul and limb
To attain the goal to forever be freed
He cared so much it killed him
So much so he became a wretch
A villain in the story
Fixated on the stretch
He cared so much to help the world
But in the end he was seduced
Addicted to his plan unfurled
To a scoundrel he was reduced.
No matter how long you want to stay the same
It finds you one way or another
Either large or small
It takes you by surprise
The feelings that it brings you
Like gifts wrapped on Christmas day
A mystery that surrounds you and waits for you to find for yourself
It can come like a storm
Unpredictable like rain from a clear sky
But eventually you find yourself living life with it
As if it were always there
And no matter how long you want to stay the same
You live with it and call it friend.
Sometimes you must do bad things,
to stop bad people.
My only question is,
if you do bad things to good people to stop them,
which are you?
You said you never catch feelings
and that's ok with me.
Only for a moment did I think
that I loved you at all.
But now I realize,
just how cold you truly are.
And what sad life you will live.
When bones break they grow back stronger,
healthier than before.
Man has broken many bones from famine, disease,
But the soul heals a different way,
very different from before.
Though his body warm and full,
man's soul has seen the gore.
Beating, our hearts are healthy,
yet our humanity lies on the floor.
We thought we were unshakeable,
from our frame down to our core.
But with every broken bone,
our soul is colder than before.
Come Wayward Souls
that wander in the darkness.
There is a light for the lost and the meek.
Sorrow and fear
are easily forgotten,
when you submit to the soil of the earth.
Grow tiny see,
you are gone to the tree.
Rise, till your leaves fill the sky,
until your sighs fill the air in the night.
Lift your mighty limbs,
and give praise
to the fire.
Lyrics from one of my favorite songs from the show Over the Garden Wall. Lyrics are not my own.
You saw him once
At school one time
Or was it twice?
That other time too
Maybe four times
But always in the hall
His name was never known
Like a cloud in the sky
Or a tree in the park
Always there but never acknowledged
Forgettable was an easy way of saying it
But you never really thought about it anyway
Like an ad on t.v. would be a humble example
Entertaining you for mere seconds
Until flowing naturally from your attention
Even worse "that kid" was like
The faces in those commercials
Never remembered unless he was there
Flickering, as if he would burn out
When he came and conversed
The boy without a name
You did not know what to call him
(With that commercial face)
So you smiled and nodded and carried on
But then when the commercials end
The news comes back on
Something terrible happened
To a kid you saw before
But the commercials come on
And life keeps going
The face disappears
But he can only hope
To learn his name
The five great kingdoms fought
Till metal rusted upon their shields
Young boys caught in bitter feuds
No longer knowing, why blood spewed
As priests did preach upon guilty stage
Filled with rage did oracles vow
To wage a war of dooming age
With trebuchet and viscous scow
Fire spewed and darkness crept
Swept to the four corners of the earth, with ease
So did appease their desires for death
Did the men of kingdoms old carry on
Until, from the depths of hell did break
In the coming wake of satan himself
A sixth kingdom rose with the intent to take
The beloved land of foolish men
But the ignorant kings, rich with gold
Refused to fight with enemies old
Boys now men fight the wars
Charred and battered city doors
And to this day, our kingdoms fall
To the sixth kingdom of greed
That will ruin us all
You have a crowd of 10,000 people
Is it still a crowd?
You have a heap of sand
You take out 1,000,000 grains
Is it still a heap?
You have 5,000,000 trees in a forest
You cut down 4,500,000 trees
Is it still a forest?
You have 3 parts of the brain
You remove the Insular Cortex
Are you still human?
At what point do we change?
When does something cease to be?
If man ceases to feel disgust amidst atrocity,
Is he still human?
It spreads through your coughs, your touch and reach
Infecting the old, the young and meek
Killing the rich and poor in just weeks
This year gave us a killer