#journeying
The struggle is over—
Forevermore free
from being drained by conflict.
Self-destruction mode
cancelled, instead calling out
for a new way.
The need to become anyone,
anywhere, at any time—
Abandon it to the sea.
This fragile vessel,
bobbing on waves of anguish,
has anchored itself.
Rest arrives slowly,
surrendering to depth and time,
allowing the storm to pass.
Seasonal affective identities,
captured by grace,
and blessed by peace.
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
zoomed through decades
gone in a blink
travelling this universe
however did I keep up
how on Earth
do I keep going
Mar 9
Mar 9, 2026 at 10:25 AM UTC
It is here
in this bottle-necked existence, locked
into days captioned by ticks and tocks,
where time resides in each of us
until it stops,
rotating the same hands
inside the same third dimensional clock;
it is here
where every breath exhaled is a universal kiss –
it is simply one moment and
the space in between this
that binds together our journeys, which,
as uniquely defined as we feel each is,
are all chapters of the same book
we write to reminisce,
primed and pained with the same theme we
create to self-exist,
scrawled by the same pencil, held
by the same hands as we persist…
each of us artists
with the same precise and leather-bound twist
It is here
where we long for real purpose or true faith –
to believe that something
‘other’,
external,
or
majestic
awaits…
but in nothing we trust
yet, cry blame for our fate –
each a different monologue of the same hate;
the same distracting soul state;
the same periodic and prolific bait –
God would not want us, at any rate
It is here
in darkness, arms around each other’s back
that war hangs overhead in stasis,
circling, cycling on a track and
wearing thin our patience
while it leaks like yolk from all our cracks
(we watch it drip indifferently as we huddle tight within our pack)
S
I
L
E
N
T
L
Y
preparing
for the next surprise attack:
we, like wolves, insane
and seeing red with every flash –
our lonely pain inciting hunger,
our deep abyss as black
It is here
in this cosmic explosion,
and it is now just as it was then,
that peace is nought but a tragic parody
of the dreams of passing men,
and nothing changes but the theatre of stars
in lines, in queues, end to end,
enemy to friend to
ENEMY
for decades once again,
consuming pain like greed as our bellies all distend,
living every angle of the lie like it is money we MUST spend,
the broken tales of each of us
portending, true, our end;
dangling one more burden
like a dog-tag for a past we’ve penned
at rest beneath a headstone
in a yard of human bookends
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 10:09 PM UTC
Journey across time with calendar wings,
moments packed like spare t-shirts
and extra socks,
passport in one hand and
a window seat to the right;
an empty notebook penciled by thought -
its white void the clouds
that fuel your glorious lungs
Honeymoon with more sky and fewer limits,
bound at the ankles by freedom
- and spontaneity, by chance -
the fresh juice of destiny
your north in every glass of south;
a stomach full of butterflies
to take you to places the maps won't
Voyage, gift-wrapped in mystery,
each sunrise peeled apart with branching arms;
that new car smell
to steer you upon the magic
of rhyming skies and watercolour footprints -
companionship in purpose
embedded into the souls
of all who climb the peaks of your dreams
beside you
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 4:58 AM UTC
Opening my heart,
opening my mind;
I inhaled
without regret
and watched
the world
unwind.
Comfortable
in my
non-proverbial
sling-shot,
I was catapulted
from this Earth,
out of my body
and into
Hyperspace:
a sight
of radiant
splendor.
Streams
of bright,
neon color
soaked through
my vision,
illuminating
the blanketed
brilliance
of
the experience.
This eternal
round-about
spun
in wide circles
around my being,
rapidly
gaining speed,
taking flight.
Time
broke apart;
it's pieces:
fractured,
severed
and split
into
the expanse
that lay
all around me.
The walls
glistened;
scintillating
with fervent
sparkle,
a shimmering
twinkle
of prismatic
grandeur.
Breathing deep,
I felt my spirit
begin to return.
With limbs
outstretched
I grasped for
the reality
I had
just barley
touched
with
****** fingertips.
Eyes opening
back to the
shadowbox
of this
existence,
a singular
tear
escaped.
Reappearing,
I wept.
Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 2:28 PM UTC