#evasion
Early oracle of harmony
as a swift tide of rays
kisses the world magnolia.
The day is rinsed in purity;
breeze whispers its first song in
the tree’s opalescent sepals
where a colorful blooming
above is glimpsed by the
watchful eye of now.
Here mind is free to invent
its own ballet, a host of
feelings rising like a flock
of birds with each passing
sensation.
Here are depths of time
suspended in the stillness
of palm fronds as moist heat
lays its lazy blanket over
beach and sea.
This season is peopled by
idea ghosts haunting the
corridors of thought left
idle for too long, the ever-
moving tide of change
soon turning.
Oh, to be invisible as wind,
simple as air yet constant
as an orchestra of waves
rising, plunging, withdrawing
and returning again and again.
Feb 25, 2023
Feb 25, 2023 at 4:30 AM UTC
Fragile, as all things of value are, defines life
Small little things, we often overlook
Forgetting the context, we often realise
What makes up our existence?
Are we always chasing the unknown?
Swimming in a sea of feelings, trying to find the shore.
Trying to process these feelings
It never seems easy
What matters, in the end, is the conquest
Your name in a victory,
To help take meaning away
From all the wrong things you've done
Why do we even need anything
To feel satisfactory?
A sense of pressure puts us down,
Bringing upon a frown
On our fragile little faces
I thought I could be happy forever,
Rather than caring about expectations
Moving on rather than switching off
The past seems like yesterday
Hoping that this evasion from myself,
Will, in one way or other, finally pay off.
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 5:09 AM UTC
I much prefer it when it rains;
theres much less pressure on the day.
It makes me feel like it's alright,
to waste a day alone inside
and wrap myself up in a blanket,
shut out the world. To be quite frank it
hardly makes a lot of sense;
sometimes, I just don't help myself.
Look far and wide for some excuse,
roll left and right, avoid the truth;
rip it all up to start anew,
as often, restless minds will do.
Jun 23, 2018
Jun 23, 2018 at 4:20 AM UTC
me and her we barely talk
like spies for different governments
I've tried extracting information
but I'm cut off, passing out
and I wake up every time
17, heart-broken with silence
blank stares scan my every evening
somehow I am still invisible
turning this into a cold green light
to explore the dark corridors of my heart
my thoughts turn to microfilms
and battle plans and secret blueprints
my cover's hanging by a thread
I'm now a fugitive with everything to lose
a secret agent in love with their handler,
the disembodied string of signs on glowing screen
how much emptier than this is it possible to get
because there is no home
and you can't just go back to the agency
one wrong step and charges vary
from espionage to treason
and there've never been any right moves
at all
so now it's back to basics
Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC
Someone put an elephant
In the middle of my room
To capture conversations
And often predicting doom
Or bragging about something
That it has never done.
This pachydermal pestilence
Certainly is not much fun.
I try to keep things secret
And pretend that they’re not there
Then all of a sudden, ****
An elephant from somewhere.
I try to deny its existence
Laugh and talk around it all
But the thing is an elephant
Is really not that small.
Then once someone visits
They find it difficult to pretend
That the elephant is not there.
So much for helpful friends.
So, I make up stories to try
To deftly explain things away
But some things are too obvious
No matter what words I say.
Some just give up and leave me
To be the same fool as I act.
But, others get up in my face
And try to deliver some fact.
So, I can’t really be upset
With those who are in my group
But that doesn’t help me clean up
The disgusting elephant ****
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 5:39 AM UTC
You are allowed to believe whatever you want
Believe that rainbows will always double,
That a *** o’ gold awaits you on the other side
Believe that bad men come quickly and go sooner,
That everyone is happy
Every blade of grass hides an Easter egg
Every rock hides a humble, quiet little home
Every river is made of molten chocolate…
Believe that everyone is safe and happy
Believe that people never do intentional wrong,
No such thing as assault, physical, ****** mental, emotional
Psychological…
Just when you do, make sure you open your eyes once in a while
Ignorance could be the death of you
And if you stayed in such a world…
It’s called being delusional.
And I only want the best for you,
So I wish those bad men never arrive
That those rocks remain a hiding place
Those blades of grass contain secrets of happiness
That those double rainbows have a lucky leprechaun skipping across them
That your *** o’ Gold” shall never empty to gambling or addiction
And that those chocolate rivers never empty
And, most importantly, that such a happy world remains untouched
By reality,
And you, too, remain untouched
So sweet dreams, compadre,
I’ll see you in reality soon.
Aug 30, 2016
Aug 30, 2016 at 12:44 AM UTC
The stars beam down at us,
Smiling as we cruise,
Flickering within the city sky.
We have nothing to lose.
Burdens have been left behind,
Where people have discarded reality.
We have escaped the broken woman,
Managed once more to evade fatality.
Our drive cannot last forever,
But I wish that it could.
If I were able to become lost in the night,
Then I surely and happily would.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
The crucible was a battle
fought by two sinners
both likely to sell the other out
or to shoot one another.
One wore a necklace
of tight inlaid shininess and red.
It was laced with a satin bow
and imbedded with an insignificant little ruby
tied around her neck,
her lovely ringlets hid in the sunshine.
She knew her life was sacred.
Mostly she was right,
but christened in her own right,
it was never suggested to her
that there was any other way around.
The darker side was originally ambivalent
to the nature
of the afflicted golden ringlets.
Thrashing and fighting it,
he, the darkness,
was finally struck with love.
The ambivalent subsided beneath
the imaginary plinth he prayed at,
and there he prayed.
Retorted only through silence as most gods do,
God responded.
Each time the ambivalent shook
and chattered his teeth
as his fears were becoming
all so real.
Waiting to hear a sound
And nothing was there.
He understood the emptiness.
He was truly suffering,
but ultimately obliged to the goodness
of every single perfect ringlet
that made up the woman’s hair.
He knew the repercussions
of going on in other fashions,
and chose instead to end it there
before he had her locked in all their passions.
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
Holding back is an impulse for those of us
who spell 'happy' with a question mark.
We are the restless, thinking deeply;
trained to accept a consuming plateau.
We follow theories in patterns so as to clumsily grasp at
a conclusion to poke holes in and a reason to follow it
around again - the upended bicycle wheel spins and
we push ever harder - desperate to find something new;
Words to write or notes to piece together on a
set of strings or keys to show we're here and happy?
A little grain of our forever-doubt to leave behind
after spending lives tracing a question mark;
Weaving a pen around the joy that grows in the
middle of our road to arrive at an empty point.
?
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 5:25 PM UTC
How possibly louder can silence get?
My head is spinning
My gaze is fading
But how can you resist the simple thought of forever fleeting evasion when your heart is beating so fast and your blood flowing so silently?
Fugitive passion.
Ephemeral specks of heaven slipping through the shackles of time.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC