The wanderer walks more then he talks fished in a *** of emotions asteroid

torn by the fact that time is a plant
of which can't be regrown when grown on a slant
oh surface what is my purpose?
why am I here? what am I after?
what is my fear?

Stuck in a haze
of being afraid of the future

I'm the wanderer of night

The walker of the shadows

my feet glide lightly beneath the
street & it's gravel

I'm peeping at the living
within the holes of their hollows

Wondering if there lives are a cycle

Go to sleep, Go to work,
Go where ever the light glows

Follow the crowd, be a part of the now

Your past actions will only be known as a noun, I've figured it out, I've opened the spout

The opportunities are endless there just flowing about

the waters of remembrance are very shallow, and impact must be heavy to make a splash

Do what you love, and your passions will truly last

Don't be stuck in the past, instead,  thrive on what's here today

This message is retrospective
echoed in constant delay

As I walk deeper into the dark this is what I truly say....L...O...S...T

it's hard to stay on track when you've mentally lost perspective
When everything you've known turns unfamiliar within seconds

Is this good energy?

or the spread of an infection?

I need a tower of fortune cookies

to hold my lessons

For when that tower crashes

it will crumble into a message

Do I search for more? or do I stay inside the common section?

I'm searching for the uncommon and people of rarity

Who can explain the emotions

of human irregularity?

Will I sustain my vision of singularity

art crafted in loops

repetition brings recognition to patterns covered from clarity

This is just a turn of the leaf

roots of the past years die off

they become obsolete, as we drift deeper into forms of technology, we suddenly find people in the form of anomalies

Look outside your window and standing there I will be, a stranger in the night

Peeping through windows for company

Only searching for answers that all of us seem to seek

Who will I be today and the following week

Who will I meet today that will change who I want to be

These are thoughts of the wanderer waking amount the streets

Why am I still doing this?
The road no longer offers
What I had hoped it would offer.
I ran out of my money weeks ago,
And the only money these gigs offer
Are just enough to get me
To my next gig.
Every morning I wake up inside my car,
Frost on my windshield and hair,
Not sure where I'm going next,
But not ready to go home.
I smoke some stranger's
Thrown away half cigarette for breakfast ,
And put all of my trust
In Paul Simon and Adam Duritz
To get me to my next stop alive.
I haven't written a new song in months,
And all the ones I keep playing
Have grown old and stale--
Maria being the only song I can still sing
With passion.
Yet I keep doing it,
My todays following my yesterdays,
Each day a shadow of the last.
I found an old Carole King CD
Underneath my passengers seat,
And I let it remind me that someone
Is still riding next to me.
Reno sounds nice.
I might go there next.
I pop in the CD,
Hoping to find some comfort,
But all I hear is Carole's voice
Reminding me of everyone
Who is still so far away.

I sleep to dream of the day when I
won't wake up missing you when I
won't go to sleep talking to you through a screen when I
won't doubt that you'll stay or
that we're on the same page cause
we'll be in the same bed
Though, I've learned from experience that sharing space and
sharing feelings aren't mutually exclusive

Dad leaving taught me not to expect forever but Dad doing his best forced me to learn to forgive
So maybe that's why I see the good in the people that are worst for me cause I learned to love Dad through the hurt
Learned love like forgiveness I mean
forgiveness is my love language so
I can't love until I've been wronged first

I've learned gypsy love
I have loved across borders and
in between so many walls, my love has no home
My love is in the air between everyone I meet
I mean everyone that leaves
I forgive everyone that leaves

I'm ready to run and dance
which is to say I'd rather dance cause
I can never forgive myself for running
Though I've made a ***** habit of it

All this moving, vagabond exploring, has got me tired
maybe it's best I sleep -
Sleep and dream so I can love in stillness
like laying next to you and feeling your chest expand
Lungs dancing but feet still
I am not going anywhere, I will not run
from you
or after you
So now, let's rest
I'll dream forgiveness

her body rusting -
yes, they call me vagabond -
prisoned to wander.

She is just going.. going places.
She is leaving without any traces.
She is aimlessly travelling in search for something.
Like a vagabond, she is just wandering.
Try not to stop her, because she is actually falling.
Falling in love.

The winds of time whisper but one tune and it enthuses-
The gloomy senses of a dreamy person with a shining mind.
Says to him; your life resides in travelling the world, dear son:
The waves call you unto them, with sun o'erhead and deep within.

In silent dreams cruises the aspiration of an enigmatic soul-
On the calm waves of youth, driven by a carefree fuel.
For the ocean is vast and glorious; and there are numerous isles
On which hopes could be docked and a life could be harboured.

Every person desires at least once, to live like a vagabond-
To move about places relentlessly and to flow like the wind.
Bearing the scent of people and the sound of life they go,
From place to place, revering everything from a corner of their souls.

-The Silent Poet

His words said permanent, his words said stay.
His words described forever, lacing their way through my head and heart.
But in the end he was too free-spirited and transient--
he was just another vagabond seeking shelter in the crevice of my smile.