Pearls of wisdom
I wear on my wrist
as armor against the pain
of life and its refrain
again and again, we are broken
but hope still remains
for the embers will be soon be ashes
and the heat will disintegrate
exposing the nuances
each moment tends to relate
to the core of humanity
life,
most basic:
love in all its verses,
and sometimes insanity
rejection then growth
I will not lose hope

Flashes past of dreams remembered
I’ve met you before. I think.
We live and die each day and night
Out and in. In and out of existance.

Birds’ wings flutter in my heart in my mind
reminding me I’ve been here.
Tonight our infinities will brush past eachother.
Every minute is a lifetime, is an hour, is a year.

She’ll wander back to you again,
but drawn by the string
of ineffable instinct—kissing the sand
of your beaches still damp
by the routine of her departure.
Yet as she recedes,
you already ache her homecoming
as though longing for an estranged relative.

You count the years
by the bitterest point
of every winter, and
value your harvests
against the cruelty of the drought—
and even when she rearranges herself
nightly, by increments you’ve already calculated
by meticulous observation,
somehow good fortune owes you eternity,
even as it crumbles under the weight
of its own impermanence.

You’ve never dealt well with entropy;
all that came before you, which also happens
to survive you—an honorary god.
Stranded on earth,
you monitor your greying scalp as grimly
as you decry a darkening sky above you succumbing
to the certainty of winter, but
even she is ebbing, too.
You curse her departure like an abandoned child,
but she had never sinned against you—
that was your idea.

You mourn the day she repossesses
with mortal anguish,
yet you still find a way to forgive her
when she sends Dawn
to shine his light between the trees.

People will always leave.
It doesn't matter how they tell you
that you are the most important thing
that ever happened to them.
It doesn't matter how they treat you so special
for days, weeks, months, years, I don't know.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter how they tell you 'I love you'
after they kiss you on your forehead.
It doesn't matter how they make you
feel warm when you were cold.
It doesn't matter how they remind you
how perfect you are after you wake up.
You will be left hanging
somewhere,sometime, somehow
by that someone.
It's just a matter of duration.
People leave no matter what.
It's a human nature.

Time itself
will dissolve
(leaving nothing).

My life
will dissolve
(leaving nothing).

Your kisses
will dissolve
(leaving nothing).

But that is all ahead.

In this moment,

I live my life,
taking my time
and enjoying
your kisses.
   ~mce

A traveller am I on the roads of the world. In my wanderings
have I seen lands famed in story and shorn of all glory today.
I have seen the unheeded ruins of insolent might - its banner
of victory is gone with the wind, like boisterous laughter stilled
into silence by a sudden thunder-clap.

I have found stupendous pride humbled to the dust, dust
on which the beggar spreads his tattered rags, dust on which the
traveller leaves the print of weary steps to be effaced by the
ceaseless march of unnumbered feet.