When a mountain
   I dare not climb
the ropes and tackles  
  are in abundance

In great shape
  my body and mind
Not a weak link
  in the expedition

But when a mountain
  I dare to climb
the ropes and tackles
  are often misplaced

Out of shape
  my body and mind
Weakness as a
  spell does bind

Hopes and dreams
  of tireless youth can
be all but forgotten
  in the spiritually aged

Strength   the glittering
  cloak of youth can
fade in weakening
  jaded resolve

But in me common
  traits dissolve
The bucking steed
  will never be tamed

Pigeon-holed the
  misfortune of other
souls   has not been
  allowed by my resolve

But this determination
  is not without cost
The foothills of youth
  are far removed

by erosion caused by
  unstable belief systems
washed away into
  the Sea of Ambiguity

A distant mountain
  I often see
(distance   the deceiver
  of proportion)

Challenged at the foot
  of the formidable sight
halfway climbing
  only to slip and fall

Does this mountain
  need to be climbed
Do youthful dreams
  need to be fulfilled

When these dreams
  are all you ever had
you wake up falling
  or climbing higher

Driven by dreams
  and gifts and talents
that rage like a river
  in the driest desert

calling home what
  must come home
holding on to what
  must be fulfilled

Obstacles that have
  become landmarks
seem to fade
   into obscurity

like threats that
  always remain empty
laughing at what
  used to bring tears

I remain standing
  through all these trials
not unscathed
  and a bit weather beaten

halfway up another
  formidable mountain
making up for lost time
  from a major fall.

What happens when you finally decide
to change what you’re doing and swallow your pride?
Is it like when the fog clears away
and you find where you stand?
 
Or is it more like the unveiling of art,
struck by what you see yet unsure in your heart,
because it is nothing at all
like what you had planned?
 
For with resolution comes new eyes to see,
and new understanding of how things can be.
Yes, new faith that changes the path
of what lies ahead.
 
For everything’s different the day you decide
to follow your heart and let go of your pride.
You’re no longer a prisoner…
but rather a free man instead.

The war between,her,me and she

Funny a tale I tell you

"Her" was me a minute ago

So malleable, gullible
Easy to stir

But "her" was happy
Holding unto a dark mural

"Me" is I now

Lessons from "her"shaped me

To let go of steam
From others action

That some ain't -
Worth fighting for

"She" is my future
The all control
I want to be

Some war ain't-
worth fighting for

I'm letting go of "her",
"Me" in progress
So that "she" can live

Nothing can stop the unquenchable fire,
fed by the flame of the deepest desire.
 
Born of a purpose, intent that is true
in the one who's determined to do what they do.
 
One who believes it can always be done.
One who won't quit till the battle is won.
 
One who gets up every time that they fall.
One who dreams big, regardless how small
 
they may seem in this world of confusion and doubt.
No, nothing can stop one who's figured it out –
 
that the universe bends to the purpose and fire
of the one who holds true… to their deepest desire.

I thought you were an ally,
but walls divide, and I

don’t see a way around
this tonight.

You can’t avoid the fallout,
because being dead inside

isn’t a good reason
to sidestep

when you told
all those lies.

Just look me
in the eyes,

tell me it was worth
bleeding what was left of me

one last time.

I know there’s
the devil in the details,
but as far as I can tell,

I’m over it, and
I’m done seeing red.

Live your own
life in sin,

because I won’t live
my life with your regrets.

The weight of your words..
Keep me up at night...

You point,  
The edges of your fingers cut sharper than any knife,  
Slicing the space we used to fill with laughter and light.  
Your hands are inert,
Hungry for heat,  
Yet instead of reaching, they hover,  
Like ghosts in a room where warmth has fled.  
Each sigh, a boulder,  
That drops into the stillness and  
Unfurls like tangled weeds,  
Choking the garden of us.  
I wonder, do you think love flourishes in the shadows of blame?
Do you think it's fruits bloom where bitterness breathes like an old memory?  
Yet, here I remain —  rooted,  
Waiting for you to look up,  
To step out of the darkness,  
To meet me, halfway..
In that golden sliver of effort,  
Where silence can wrap us in a cradle,  
A refuge,  
Not a battlefield.

The weight of your words..
Keep me up at night...
But the hope in my heart...
Give me just enough to stay another day.

-realness and rhyme x Nachii

It was always about the night.
Always about our attempts to
dominate enveloping darkness.

We pushed it back. Cave mouths
belched fire to warn those legions,
while candles carried us outside.

It was not rocket science which led
us from the dull realm of Morpheus,
but our increasing mastery of light.

We danced at all hours under lasers,
while neon tried to win our favours,
but unforgiving darkness is forever

alert to the smallest crack in resolve.
We are upstarts. Any hint of deference
will draw the wind towards the candle.


Tony Noon