and eyes, your smile fair and fine.
Like fields of fast grown
barley, your brown hair reminds
Me, of jealousy flowing.
A Jealous Tanka - Her brown hair fine like fields of barley - MK
And you want to get lost in the recesses of your mind? There is only you there, what do you expect to find?
Hahahaha... Taken from a converted notebook.
That a train station is not an evil place
It's just busy
A Less Social Me
Address a letter to noone ever
And send it on it's way
Into the gloom of another well packed bag
To be carried out and then whisked away
Let your focus not fall on the other
Let the falsehood, the penmanship
And all of the subtle friendlessness
Be mailed into the distant future
Far far away
Just address a letter to no one ever
And alone forever you'll ever stay
Just here laughing at myself. Me and my redundant ways. Lolz
I am steam from the kettle
I am the smoke from the pipe
I am the wisp upon the willow limbs
The stillness in the dead of night
The steel upon the tracks which lie
The wings on the back which flies
Like skyscrapers in the burning distant sight
I am the final swings of the scratching fight
Not about arrogance, but about the wide array and variation of life.
A man, searching
Finds no door or exit sign
In any amount of word comprised
He is only found in less of himself
And in more of his God, found alive
Not in word
When you know
You just know
By no human means, no
But when you know
You just know
Since you've known
When all you can do
And I mean really do, is pray
You have to let go of certain things
You have to step aside be it left or right
And follow the one path, down the one way
Not to mention that you have to be very selective
When determining whatever mood you choose to linger in
And I do mean you choose
Or else you'll falter
At least such a thing rings true to me
Because all I can do is pray for you
And chose my mood and mindset most carefully
Because quite literally as a man thinks
It says, *so shall he be
We all shine
Be it from powered stars or reflective moon
Out of conscious or uncommon try
Or peculiarity of mind
Well all are
At least capable of such kind emergence
Stretched for words I am
As I have never been
This close to you
And all I can do I can do is grin
All I Can Do, Around You
Who knows the path most meant for you?
Who knows the meaning of it all?
Who knows how many trees bear fruit and precious leaves which fail to fall?
Who knows which way the wind does weep?
Who knows the path each snowflake takes?
Who knows the choices we wrestle with?
Who knows the trouble we ourselves make?
Who's at the end of the lonesome road?
Who's name is the only name to call?
Who knows the WHY behind the world?
The answer is the ALL in ALL.
From the Sleepless Feet collection.
And forever he will reign. Regardless, but most pleased by my praise.
Starlight doesn’t fall
It eases into atmospheres
And shines in mirrored eyes alive
Like all the sand-glass in the shoaly seas
And the crystallizing clouds in the winter skies
Just as all of this is in
All Is In Her Eyes
Someday I pray
I'll be given the chance
To explain it ALL
And I will not hesitate or second glance
Or question myself
In that moment when it presents itself
I will not falter
I will not fall
I will simply speak and share with you
ALL of the memories and ALL of the understandings
Which I've built up here
Inside of it ALL
Will you be the one to hear my voice?
Will yours be the name I get to call?
God only knows, although I dream
And can guarantee, that it will be, ALL
Because there's ALways more.
it all goes right
The stars don't align
but I feel them nonetheless
And for a moment life's duress is but a memory
To me, as I live and burn in this present candlelight
Though sometimes the evening is even darker than the night
And I crash into the atmosphere of a more realistic Me
Like a lonely poet who never shares his paint
Like a bygone song no instrument will play
And in burning I retreat
to the halls of sleep
I am far
(Even though it seemed to be the perfect day)
And sometimes I sleep just to escape myself. Yes me, who seems to have it all together. (;
Simply put - All Perfect Days End (sometimes in sadness)
Succeed a hundred
Even a thousand times more
Only to prop up
Your former self minded life
As all will fall when we die
Not to be gloomy. But we all lose to death in time. Which is fine.
Find answers at the bottom of a cup?
I think not.
Find freedom in the freedom to choose how you will be?
Find a lack of self in a deepless sleep, where no answers are present for a moment?
Find yourself on a way, to being OK, with the inevitability of everything?
That sounds like something substantial to me.
Fervent Series (8/10) - 06/23/19
Jaded doesn’t describe me this
Crystallized heart and
Falling sound somethingness
Crashing like gentle leavings
Down and full of truth relived
Run from yourself long enough,
And you'll circle the globe and find your old self.
Probably just standing still,
Waiting for you.
Because a wise man once said,
*"It's alright to do what you want to do,
Until it's time to start doing what you're meant to do."
Quote is from the Rookie #morris
As sure as my blue-eyed skies are blue
That will never be normal
It will always be you
Always Side By Side
I cannot speak to who you are
But what I see
Is skin like umber
Hair as olives
And eyes alive with a sharp and rustic ease
You seem to be
Every wild choice I wish I would've made
Every moment to dance not taken
Every handshake met and opportunity spent
When my prose is your con
And my quiet your noise
In your reflect I see
That you are the opposite of me
A Setting Son (2) - She was a mirror, but fine by different measurements
You want to know a secret about me?
I'll share it with you and only you
Some days I wake up on this earth
And question nearly everything
That I'm trying to do, that I'm trying to be
Every feeble minded song that I sing
Which's created by another set of strings
I question it, I question me
Not to try and fully understand what I see
But because I'm constantly redefining the self
And trying to better understand this man
This amalgamation known as me
Yup... That'll about do it...
Lift not a man’s chin
By the force of your hand
When his head is down
Instead, consider this
If you are worthy of his sight
And an admiration to his eyes
He will look up at you
In due time
For it is not your place to try
And keep him from such things within
As feeling are
But encourage him instead to be
By standing out most patiently
So that you may appeal to him
And to his eyes
To seek the hopefulness within
And the truth as well, in which you share
And stand beside
No, if you seek to raise a man’s chin
You must stand with him and seek his eyes
I really like how this turned out. Some of the truest lines I've ever written...thus far. LOL!
When you stop assuming competence
That people are not people
But still children
Life makes more sense
We're all just kids at heart. Aware or unawares.
I want to close that book as if I never looked
Like it never existed in the library of life
Or I want to compile so many kind words, beautiful and bright
That they outshine and shone any memory in the sky
And then, only then, will that book not have to be burned to die
Burning lol or not
My old heart roams around with you
Cut out of schedules
Grown out of loafers
Like the gifts once found
Beneath the pleasant tree we once shared
I am all of memory
And once yours
And she can have it. (: (:
To preface rain
"I don't know why I feel what I feel but I feel it"
There is a glass box in the ocean
Invisible to the nautical eye
How it hides beneath the subtle waves
As the breakers and boats berate the tempest skies
For amidst the ocean of unending salt
Amidst the darkness of the currents below
There is only this
An ounce of freshwater in a box of glass
Unfound, both in and of itself
How it will ever preserve and still outlast
I'm tired.... (:
The grounds of my courtyard
The woods of my heart
Have not been trespassed upon for an age
Or trampled unendingly by the masses of protest
The uncivilized, no
But to those who were once invited
Not a footprint is left
And I more than ever
Wind roundwards in clockwork
Walk the evening machines, friendly
And at pace ever turning
No choice will ever release me from this free
"Did your eyes gleam at my light
Or am I just another one"
Large and impending
Leave it ajar and I'll be regretting it
For a drafty age to come
Just being honest.
From where to draw
From which new well?
The night forever never tells
With no ear there
To hear the silence
But to speak another, break the spell
No mind to see what's in the night
Unless the dark is spoken till
The dawn it breaks another dream
With morning come a settled well
Deep to draw
Deep to dwell
A person's thoughts at night... A person's thoughts at night.
A minds way is but a clouded fog...
When you let yourself lose self in full.
When no path is left to be tread at all...
A right way in past is awaiting you.
The idea being, no true answers will come from your mortal mind. But return to what you know to be true and best. And for me that's faith. When things get though.
Blasted prescious seconds lost
Like cannon fire in the wrong direction
It's a shame to sink such prescious metals
Into an ocean so deep and unforgiving as this
Not very significant though. If the memory faded this quickly.
There’s nothing more terrifying than you
There’s nothing more understood than me
There’s nothing more worth noting than us
And there’s nothing without the one who sets us free
A Modern Day Proverb
Lead me not to a circus
Through rings and browning trails unkept
Unaddressed by rain and rain soaked oaks
To a place where the spiderwebs could never grow
And the sunlight never weave with such seepings ease
For as long I've stood and ever known
That my feet want more of this compelling cushion beneath
And my mind it softens sight at the corners of my eyes
Just to try and better see
No woods compare to there which has been
And thus you cannot be standing beside
Unless you have such seen
In the stillness of this Penn resides the bittersweet
And the mossy trail to be left behind
Not the least of which considers me
One of it's kind
Among the many things which I welcome
Your legs over mine
My head atop yours
There is nothing more valuable
Than that which I can give
Being then myself
More than time itself
Along with all that which I adore
A Setting Son (8) - I believe that the greatest gift of human self, from one to another, is self complete. Not perfect. But fighting.
Before the autumn comes
Before the trees are torn by the harsh winds
And the world is consumed by leafy snow
Before the fires edge and burn out slow
And dark soiled Earth is turned to rust
Before the autumn comes again and then
I will find myself
Once more and last
In the springtime of my youth the pass
For there my fate will not be determined
For all are falling, all are fast
But before the autumn comes again
I will outstretch my strong summer arms
And try and hold the winter back
In the springtime of my youth to pass
In October I do battle and each war is always different. It's no longer about making enemies or friends. It's not about ME or this frail human history. It's about the blessing of being able to try and fail. The freedom to be without restraints for a few days (like when I was a younger guy). That freedom to me means oh-so-much.
In the quiet hour
With three am alive and well
In the background close behind
I hear it now, as you spoke to me
Going on long ago
In a voice heard only in mind
And the memory somehow
I now know more intimately
Fondly, as if it was yesterday
Because memories and decisions
In the early morning light
Make more sense at that time
"Hey... We should be friends!"
It's sanded pine
Near endless time
And summers spent on nothing at all
An investment in the gracious fade
Of seasons without age
And a blend of being
Over the trees which seek to cover all
No land knows not of over reach
Of these human ways which mingle in
And char the dirt like blackened earth
And yet the mother forgives us
Again and again for the feeling of grace
And the ambitiousness of man
Which know no end
We begin again
More musing about this third rock
A clock is not a muse ... you stare?
A door is not a hallway ... you stretch.
A meaning is not a life ... but temptation.
And a cause is not a just ... personification.
A thought is not a word ... once spoken.
A hope is not a hope ... once shared.
A truth is still a truth ... midst ignorance.
And a muse is of your own mind ... you care?
You can't make yourself see something you're not ready to see. Some perceptions are just too deeply embedded to be rid of all at once. Some things... take time to unravel. Until all that's left is the truth and the understanding of self.
You chose the muse. YOU! No one else. Remember self...
They have no say in YOU and your choice.
The most wonderful, terrible
Nightmare which could possibly be
Is but a walk on the beach
Mere inches away from the eternal mind
Embodied in these footprints following along
You know, a muse is the most amusing dream
From which you'll ever wake by the sea
To the sound of crashing waves, a truth
Like a long howl
Out of the wolf of the mouth
Bellowing at a bright moon
Just out of reach
I will always be a night person.
From the day I first sat
in that shallow class
Picking up a pen full of emotion
I never once thought
Or planned to leave
So many millions of words
So many thousands of verse
As an opposite of me. That's one if the reasons why I love this venture. I didn't plan any of it. Not a single word.
A million years at least would take
To read them all
Front to back and over again
If an author paid for every word
It would bankrupt them
Over and over again
Who knows how many they've uttered in darkness?
The mind and mindless penmanship
Just try and count your own thoughts sometime
My sleep is not like rivers
l o n g
My winded song without vigor strums
And wavers desperately along
In search of a lengthy bend to break
And all I need is sleep
Just let me sit neath the wild blue yonder
Brooding like coffee on a quiet thought
With eyes full of horizons
I’m found in the lost
Brooding like coffee on a quiet thought
Emancipate my blood stream with caffeine
So that I dont feel groggy
And captured by sleep
In a new world
Of coffee to be
Feeling my better already.
Fell on my morning horizon of hope
And I, half asleep still
Could hardly note anything
Less than try
So I did
When you haven't seen the sunrise in months. And then, caught speechless by its beautiful sight. You have nothing to day. That was my morning on this young day. RIP. lol
Writing this some... Nine hours later.
The strongest men are not made of steel
They’re not born of iron or lined with ore
No the strongest men will wait and endure
For whatever they want
Until the world turns no more
And So I Wait
The day of my life is not eternal
Neither without the warmth of the sunlit hands
Nor the chilling stare of the moons bright eye
As the days amidst the months pass by, like the tides
So I stop and start my heart from beating
Autonomic is this loving way of mine
With every month that fades away, don't live in fear of what you're forgetting. But try anew as you always have, to find the truth of you, in each new setting...
New. Welcome. Good luck.