Twirling, taunting, Fluttering, flaunting, Silver with optimism, Wishing on a star.
Sitting in the park this evening watching the sun go down behind the nor’west arch.
‘Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars, and see yourself running with them.’ - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
Flickering lights mimick my heartbeat,
constantly reminding of the sad melody it plays.
Today I dreamt with ghosts and butterflies.
Both shared contrasting symbolisms Glowing in dark transparency Or hidden-ly invisible? I'm lonely in the classroom. Nobody is interested in me. I'm wearing a bright blue sky shirt with my upper botton unbuttoned letting my hair go oblivious to the bullets that are being shot through. I don't know what's wrong in people: they love the unlovable they like the unlikely. Shallow portraits of intimate light getting lost in the flinch of an eye. And just like that: my dream dissapears. Right where the sun meets the sky and the tales of the night flicker, in the bright moonlight.
This is a portrait of the precious insights that inhabit dreams but that get lost faster than the blink of an eye.
Dreams are our most intimate portrait of our inner-world. They must not be overlooked.
Like a candle, small
fragile, easy to blow out with a set time to burn always flickering about like a candle, we live like the light; we burn short, but we burn bright.
Before the day when my mind flickers
Before the night when fear grabs my wrist Before the moment of emancipation When I lose my sanity, To the courageous fear beneath the beds of my heart. When the flood comes in dark, And the moon ditches without leaving a mark. I sink and sink. The way I feel possessed, The way mad I am, The way I know not about my constancy. I know I shall stumble, I know I may fall, Amid this, This which is no revelry.
A flickering lamp post,
A quivering spotlight, Illuminating two souls sparring in the night. Time stands with him as she walks. The tragedy of loving. Is that simply being in love, Isn’t a good reason for two people to be together. Peace with her was worth the war, And he gave her pieces he never gave himself. The tragedy of loving. A faded memory of what once was, But the feelings still etched on his skin with fresh ink. He will feel those for the remainder of his life, Even though she won’t be apart of it.
Where is my light?
I seek it reach for it crave it But the light is only a candle It flickers is unpredictable how can i be a light when I have no light for myself? My doubt presses in My patience grows thin There seems to be darkness all around me Yet, there is a fire in me I have found my light but how long will it flicker? Will it ever go out?
As still as a flame in the wind was our relationship
Wild, Deranged, a Soft dance Flickering in and out of existence
5000 years ago
the shamans and the medicine workers looked into the fire they saw me and you you and I They saw us They called us gods smoking cigarettes They thought we breathed fire getting in and out of cars, trains, and planes They thought we could move between the realms of living and dead using computers, watching tv, talking on cellphones They thought limit was the thing not within our understanding the fire of the future showed them what they thought were gods they couldn't hear our flaws They couldn't smell our decay Through the fire They saw gods in the mirror most only see rot in the mirror most can't see past misplaced shame. ⓒ Christopher F. Brown 2015