From beach to beach to beach, glimmering shimmers of sand laden waves lap lazily at your feet. The seaweed masquerade of the crab clumsily dancing amongst the foam is paradoxically poignant but apt.
Sighs of relief as the soothing sensation of the sea on hot blistered feet capture the essence of the moment. The simple pleasures of the beach; sand ridden toes and remarkably veined geodes; the golden grains and barnacle encrusted rocks provide a unique treasure indeed.
And then comes the gentle pitter-patter of a sunshower- putting a literal damper on things- but uniquely completing the picturesque scene.

I hover between worlds
"I am a spiritual being having a human experience"
and not the other way around,
when I embrace that truth
each single moment shines with brilliance.

For this one moment I want nothing
In the next I may be ablaze with the waves of lust
But for this one peaceful moment
Nothing interrupts

Touch of Breath

You breathe life,
The simple sweet words you had me speak
In time it grew,
Into the solace and peace I needed.

So sweet the sound.
Heart to ear,
Heart to me,
Later I found your heart in me

Lovely is the notion
Thoughts of you,
Acts for you,
My heart beat with you

A moment enough,
Touch of breath.
That moment,
I felt my heart beat in you

                           -Vas Bismark

Seeking those lonely ones,
Every step watched, *dark shadows hidden,
Ritual of the **** *planned, prepared, precision,  
Is the key to the departing of life,
All will fear that moment,
Looking behind as well as in front,
Kill or be killed,
Is the reaction to that moment of a death,
Life is in their control,
Let the blood seep,
Every moment is a last lingering  breath,
Right now you realise your **time is up.

The best days
Are not the Best Days
Or even the good days
They are the unremarkable
Inconsequential
Days
When you take a step away from yourself
And observe the rise and fall of a moment
From beyond its swell
When you are driving fast
Through a slow-moving night
And the headlights are smearing themselves on the roads
Like they’re trying to redecorate
And the radio is singing Yellow
And you turn your head out the window
To find a moon hung there
Blue-tacked to the infinity of sky
As thick and yellow as your grandmother’s smile
Or when it is winter and the sun has set
But the world doesn’t want the day to be over
And so pulls a musty, mustardy-grey blanket
Right up to its neck and prays
That the time for streetlights
Will insist on running ahead of it
Or when the shadows grow long in summer
And they fall like dust on the sand dunes
You run down to the sea
And try to hold it in your hands
Until the tide prises it from your clenching fingertips
Or when the sunrise is pink
And the cloud caps skid
Like ice-creams on hot plates
And you can’t help but bask in
The creativity of God
The painter
Who’s masterpiece could simply not be framed
And hung on your kitchen wall
And for a little while you want to be able
To lick the colours and candyfloss
Until someone says that little rhyme
About red sky in the mornings
And a shepherd’s warning.

Closet trapped
Words on the wall
I see the world
End of it all

Crazy place
Everything defined
Meanings are haunted
Darkness  confined

Locked and afraid
Windows can't see
Crying my eyes out
Alone let me be

I had a dream that there was something inside it felt like a bubble only whole like rock it held me down to earth in a heavy warm way yet I felt light like I could be carried off in the wind at desire, and it gave me fear but I wasn't afraid only curious because it also gave me something I've never felt, it was constant and consistent with what I could only describe as joy, it made me feel lost so I searched everywhere in my dream for the source. At first I thought it was place so I traveled to every place I had ever been then I thought maybe it was face so I welcomed memories of past love and became flooded with several specific scenes like I was in a TV changing channels and several times I thought I had came close, but as the last person faded, darkness surrounded I had awoke, to my surprise I felt as if I was still in my dream. As I lay in the dark and felt it necessary to type this before much like all my dreams they fade into haze, and in this moment I came to an epiphany. It was no place, it was no person; in fact, it was no object in this world. It was us, it was not the things we did, done, or could do. It was us in the simplest light, it was our mind wrapped in body and soul, it was the way we made each other feel in every tiny little moment entwined with it like held hands laced, these tiny moments walked side by side to create this feeling inside. In these words whispered in my thoughts "love is every perfect moment" I lost all fear. True moment isn't something that can ever be taken, only given.


I knew that I'd always have this; I knew it was the perfect moment and it was intrinsic.

Death is extinct

If I could give to you this frame of reference-
I would be stealing the one thing you were gifted.

This is a frame of reference that is empty;
Empty of concepts, forms, ideas, desires, aversions.

Here, the wind has a purpose; The day has lost it's course.
No destination, yet everything you wanted will be there.

This is where you are safe from other's ideas.
Here, the moment puts death into extinction.

This form you call hand, this idea you call mind-
Cannot grasp this nirvana, nor intellectualize it.

The clouds hold the answer.