Tread through the path of days end.
All I can see, far from reach.
Far above towering mountains, across open seas.
Are self explanatory reflecting images.
Millions if beautiful multicolors if eyes.
The low rumbles if imperfectly sculpted mouths.
So far they can see, so hard they can breathe.
Through an abstract vanity so well protected.

A mirror image matching identically.
To each living, breathing, seeing aspect of me.

So much alike, yet so different.
A beautiful masterpiece of diversity.
Some reflect a perfect double.
While others are like shattered glass.

As I observe closely I see myself through these;
flawed imperfect stainglass windows.
I see you, I see me.

Pondering the thoughts comtemplate...

Through all these beautiful imperfect imagrys.
I ponder the thought of how we came to be.
Only a being, perfect, benevolent, omnipotent.
Could conjour such a creature as thee.
A creature with hands and feet.
With a mind to ponder and think.
And a heart that loves and beats.
Such a stature if conjouration are we.

What are we, why are we here?
We are an anomaly of what we bear.

Humanoid figures symbols of relevance.
Different shapes and sizes.
We are mirrors of one another.
How are we brought to be?

Something phenomenal I see.
Couldn't have been a coincidence.
These are the works of a mighty king.

Divine and with love he made you and me...

To live through his mirror image is;
One of love and tolerance.
Another of being thankful and humble.
His plans of us are his mural.
Walking mirrors like one another.
We are his greatest creation.
A one of a kind masterpiece.

Feelings of positivity flow through me.
As I feel a sense of faith grow In me.
And see his image and character grow through me.
I know what I must do to seek him.

Love him...
Serve him...
Praise him...
Know him...

We are the walking mirrors of one.
King of creation, lord of reflections.

I see now what I must do, what we must do...

I'm a lot gayer than originally planned.
*******. Gay.
But I'm worried about the concept;
not sure if it's right to use the word
“gay”
when (I'm sorry I said it)
I'm really bisexual,
just particularly into women right now.
Like,
is that bad representation
of my sexuality?
Only encouraging
bi-erasure?
It just doesn't have the same
“umph”
to say
I'm feeling particularly
bisexual today.
But I've been telling myself
over and over
that it's okay,
no matter what
I'm feeling today.
I don't
need
your
box

anymore.

I wish that I, too, had cute pictures of you from the Summer

but the Summer it was cool to have a camera on ya phone,

I was flying solo, kicking rocks alone, rocks in my pocket broke

That rag dress, that head mess, I swear your hair made you look like a

puppy, I remember because on nights as sweet as this,

rain and wind kissin my fingertips throwing back beer on the balcony

my brain produces the chemical of unrequited love and

I’m transported to you wherever in time, without a vessel

Honeybee, I am the vessel that retains the best of you

in my pulse, and you as you stop believing, I believe in

The concept of time is weird. One minute you're fifteen and you think you know what the world is all about, but it turns out you don't. The next minute you're nineteen and trying to figure out what the hell to do with your life and how to do this "adult" thing.

Song: This Charming Man by The Smiths

Autumn closes the door



As summer sighs itself asleep



Cloudy blankets cover a seasons work



And it sleeps long and deeply


And it's dreaming of winters harsh ways



Until spring creeps in one morning


Whispering in summers ear


Like a song bird wishing for dawn


'Awaken again, my friend. The kettle is on, and there is work to begin'

What is the concept of mortality?
To be loved? To be feared? To feel so passionately, when we know we are only to meet inevitable tragedy?

In the arms of a lover, we must ask ourselves these things.
What is the weight of mortality?
How much value is emotion to such fragile, time-sensitive creatures?
What is to be gained, or conversely lost in the game of life?

The terms of business are simple.
The rules of emotion are not.

The price tags on emotional attachment must be calculated.
What is the return policy on a kiss?
What is the punishment if it's stolen?

And how can he come to my doorstep
Seeking a refund of my battered, beaten heart,
Leaving it to rot in a plastic bag that tells me to "Have a Nice Day!"
That cheeky, yellow smile holds nothing for me now.

A defective product, is what he told me.
Take it back
I don't want it anymore.

I am lost. But is being lost such a horrible concept?
I am lost. There is no path in sight, but I am not stranded.
I am lost. Legs weighted with burden grow stronger with every step.
I am lost. At this point in life it is nice to loose your sense of direction.
I am lost. But is being lost such a horrible concept?

Ineffable:
The beauty of the night sky.
The stars fade in and out of our eyes
We laugh and hold hands, no concept of time.
Every shooting star I see
I wish for no end of the line
Between the night and us, I'm content to die

Brea-
Fru- -sts.
      -its
    .
        .
     .
    E
      K
      O
    M
     S

I was once...
...a pile...of leaves.

© 2014 J.S.P.