Oh, spirit of freedom trapped in an endless cycle of foreboding thought

What awaits you in the inevitable, unknowing future?

Shall you be the conqueror of all that finds itself in your wake -

Or shall you be the adventurer, an explorer of this round globe;

Stretching far from the Dinaric mountains to the East and West alike

Does your freedom, forged from being lost and in an endless search for yourself

Allow your heart to love and to be loved? Will it open the rune sealed treasury;

Of your soul that lies so deep within the depths of Tartarus in your chest?

Oh, spirit so unnaturally free, forsaking yet never forgetting all that has passed

Shall your Pandora’s box remain unopened, awaiting for the ageless dream;

That shall decay it into dust and air, and return it to the fine Earth and stone;

That has given birth to so many of spirits upon its accursed soil?

What really is your freedom, spirit;

What is your secret?

Are you truly free, or only in nature and eternal wishes to fly like a phoenix;

Yet are chained to your own core, unable to move a single inch farther

Than where you already are?

Tell me, spirit;

What is the price of your freedom?

Does it require payment of flesh and blood from your own vessel

Or perhaps a surrender of soul to the ungraceful, to await an end

Within the fiery pits of Hell, clutched in His inescapable grasp?

Shall you, invincible and undaunted in your quest to see all that is to be seen;

To live all that is to be lived; To feel all that is to be felt;

Surrender your entire being to eternal suffering and torment;

A split second of clairvoyance exchanged for an eternity of blindness?

If to be lost is to be found;

If to be blind is to see;

If to be dead is to live;

Then tell me, spirit –

Are you truly free?

There is a vastness within you
That I don't think I'll ever understand.

You hold a worlds worth of wisdom and stories

Let me climb into your heart
and see your core
Ill scale the walls
I am quite the adventurer.

Eventually I want to reach the peak of your mind so I can see what you are looking at.

For when I said I wanted to take on the world with you,
I meant even the one in your head.

i fell in love with a writer. i will forever be in her world, even way past her death. i don't exactly know why i fell in love, or how i managed to do so, but i do know that i am perfectly okay with doing so. sometimes, when she looks at me, i am able to picture myself in her bed on my worst nights, and she by my side, holding me the entire time as i shake with fear and anxiety. and somehow, in those milliseconds when i look into those unkept swimming pools of eyes, i get lost and i forget who i am. she knows me like the map of veins on the inside of her wrists; she fathoms me in an unexplainable kind of way, more than anyone else, honestly. my sentences are not making any sense but i really dont care. i know she will read this. i know because i am purposely going to send her this link and she is going to let her eyes travel over each word that is typed.

okay let me start over.

how do you tell someone that they are all you want? that the dreams give you a craving that must be eventually put into words so they could possibly be put into action? i probably do not know what i am talking about. i went insane looking for her. i guess a part of me will always be insane, regardless of whether or not she plays a part in it. but, i do know this: i want her to be. i want her to drive me insane and i want her to push me to my limits. i dont want to just feel love for her. i want it all. i want the hate, the tears, the heartbreak, the pain, the joy, the angst, the lust, the melancholy, the happiness, everything. i want every emotion that comes with being in love with her. i want the hell, the heaven, and the purgatory. i want the planets in her veins and i want the constellations that linger on the edge of her lips so that every time i kiss her, i taste galaxies and nebulas. i want every ******* metaphor. i want every ******* reality. i dont know, i want so much; i am putting myself out here for her and i still dont even fully fathom whether or not she wants the same. i mean, i think she does? maybe, maybe not. it is yet another mystery i must learn to solve over time. i cannot go two feet without bumping into some piece of her. when i go out to get coffee, i imagine her sitting in that café right next  to me, reading a book she bought for fifty cents at a yard sale. i can imagine her in the most obscure places; walking next to me in the grocery store, staring at the puppies through the window of the pet shop on main street, in the mall with me dying to try the new hot chocolate at starbucks, buying cheap shampoo at the dollar store because we are going on some sort of three day adventure to anywhere. i see her everywhere. i feel her everywhere. i crave her everywhere. and this letter may make me seem out of my mind, but oh ******* well.
some things we dont talk about. we simply dont have to. i think that there is a mutual understanding between us for some things. to be honest, i didn't only fall in love with a writer. i fell in love with someone who holds many titles: lover. poet. dreamer. thinker. listener. talker. adventurer. brand new day. she is so much. she is an arbutrary holiday that is dying to be celebrated. her bones are filled with wanderlust, and she makes a mean hot cocoa. there is always a lovely way to look at her. even the distance between us is equally as beautiful as the distance between stars.

she is the perfect combination of subtle and mysterious, all while making it seem as though she is an open book waiting to be read by the loveliest pair of brown eyes. she is a universely misunderstood paradox, and she has the capability of making you think twice about what you are going to say, even without opening her mouth. she is a foreign film so full of incomprehensible words, yet you can fathom everything about her if you actually take the time to get to know her. she can make you fall for her just by closing her eyes and making a wish at 11:11pm. she makes you contemplate the meaning of life, and she can paralyze you all while batting one eyelash. she is the feeling of a warm blanket on a cold december night, and she is the cool breeze that caresses you on a humid july afternoon. she is that new song you hear in the coffee shop but will never know the name of, even though you will spend innumerous nights searching for it on the internet and in record stores. and oh god, if only she had the oppertunity to see herself from my perspective- she would fall in love with herself just as easily as i did for her. for she has never encountered a love like this likewise of squeezing into last year's prom dress. every single day, she will make my heart beat indefensibly faster and faster. and she will continually wonder why i fell for her, and eventually she will understand why it was simply her who occupied my vacant heart even though my bed was preoccupied by broken promises and empty words. she gazes at me skeptically, yet understandingly. and i will never stop trying to let her know that i ******* love her until it is nothing short of crystal clear. i will never get used to her; she changes over time and so do her thoughts and emotions and perspectives and opinions. i will never fully fathom her, but god knows i will ******* try. and every single day, i will love her more than the last. and she will continually wonder why i dedicate so much to her, for her, and about her. the entire ******* world knows about her. she is all i ever write about lately, and it soothes yet annoys me at the same time because she is always on my mind. i have waited a lifetime for her to love me, and i would patiently wait another if it meant that she will one day be the first eyes that i see when i wake up on sunday mornings.
god only knows what is hiding in her weak and fragile heart, in those glassy and lost eyes. and although she has the tendency to change her religions, it does not lessen the fact that she the universe in her soul.

so this is my letter about the girl i fell in love with. she is the only girl i have ever fallen for, and she has made me see the world from a different perspective. and i cannot even thank her for giving me the oppertunity to become like this. i dont know, maybe i am insane, but all the great artists were; hemingway, einstein, twain, poe, cobain, the list goes on and on.

maybe this time things will be better than they were.
maybe this time you can be the girl i write about who sneaks into my bedroom late at night to spend even five minutes together.
maybe you can be that girl who admires me from afar.
maybe you can be that girl who writes love letters to me and drops it off anonymously at my house at ten in the morning, and once i read it i already know who it is from by your handwriting.
maybe this time you will fall harder and deeper for me than you did before.
maybe this time we will find peace,
and maybe this time every single memory of ours that we make will last for decades.


i love you.*


{m.j.}

I hopped in daddy's car today
We drove to an old looking house
Daddy said make sure and be careful
I said okay, because it may have ghost.

He brought his special brush for bones
I walked with creaks and squeaks
This was an adventure for Susie-ann!
I'd been waiting for this for weeks.

I was a knight sent to **** a dragon.
I was a pirate in search for treasure chest
"I am a girl with big imagination,"
Says my daddy with his searching vest.

I walk up the entry way
The tree scratched the door
This would be my great adventure
My feet were far from sore.

I didn't give up just that easy
A adventurer never quits
My job was not over yet
I couldn't have any submits

I flicked my flashlight at the wall
The ghost could not be seen
I was getting bored now
Embarrassed by the scene.

I was a child looking for ghost
Ghost, this house did not hold
I don't know why I was looking for ghost
When I should really be looking for gold.

The 9.6 million followers who tune in to watch Miranda Kerr having her hair done on Instagram — for this is how models spend most of their time — were treated to a rather more interesting sight last Thursday: a black and white photograph of a whacking great diamond ring.

Across it was the caption “Marry me!” and a twee animation of the tech mogul Evan Spiegel on bended knee. Underneath Kerr had typed “I said yes!!!” and an explosion of heart emojis.

A spokesman for Spiegel, founder of the Snapchat mobile app, who is 26 to Kerr’s 33 and worth $US 2.1 billion to her $US 42.5 million , revealed “they are very happy”.

At first, the marriage seems an unlikely combination: a man so bright he founded Snapchat while still at Stanford University, becoming one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires by 22, and a Victoria’s Secret model who was previously married to the Pirates of the Caribbean star Orlando Bloom (she allegedly had a fling with pop brat Justin Bieber, leading Bloom to punch Beebs in a posh Ibiza restaurant).

Perhaps the union indicates that there is more to Kerr than we thought. More likely, it reveals something about Spiegel — and the way the social status of “geeks” has changed.

Since Steve Jobs made computers cool and Millennials started living online, nerds are king. Even coding is **** enough for the model Karlie Kloss, singer will.i.am and actor Ashton Kutcher to learn it. Silicon Valley has become the new Hollywood, as moguls and social media barons take over from film stars and sportsmen not just on rich lists, but as alpha men.

Being a co-founder of a company is this decade’s equivalent to being a rock star or a chef. And, if their attractiveness to models and actresses proves anything, then being a Twag — tech wife or girlfriend — is a “thing”. Sources tell me Twags are also known as “founder-hounders” because they like to date the creators of start-up companies.

Actress Talulah Riley was an early adopter. She started dating the PayPal founder Elon Musk in 2008. Riley, then fresh from starring in the St Trinian’s film, met Musk in London’s Whisky Mist nightclub after he had delivered a lecture at the Royal Aeronautical Society. I interviewed her shortly afterwards and she told me they had spent the evening talking about “quantum physics”. A month later they were engaged. Their on-again-off-again marriage lasted six years before she filed for divorce again in March. Currently Musk, worth an estimated $US 12.7 billion and focused on Tesla cars, is said to be “spending a lot of time” with Johnny Depp’s estranged wife, Amber Heard.

Model Lily Cole dated the Twitter founder Jack Dorsey in 2013. Later she had a son with Kwame Ferreira, founder of the digital innovation agency Kwamecorp. Actress Emma Watson is going out with William Knight, an “adventurer” who has an incredibly boringly sounding job as a senior manager at Medallia, a software company. Allison Williams, Marnie in the HBO television show Girls, is married to Ricky Van Veen, co-founder of College Humor website.

Could it be that these women are onto something? Dating a bro certainly has its appeal. They are innovative: how else would they invent apps that deliver cheese toasties or match singles based on their haircuts? They are risk-takers who must be charismatic enough to inspire investors and attract crowd-funding. They may not be gym-fit, but they are mathletes who can do your tax bill. They are animal lovers: every start-up is dog friendly. And they are fun: who would not want to date somebody with a ball pool in their office?

There is a saying about dating in Silicon Valley: the odds are good but the goods are odd. Nerds are notorious for peculiar chat-up lines and normcore clothes. Still, if geeks can be awkward, that is part of their charm. Keira Knightley, complaining that Silicon Valley was all men in hoodies and Crocs, described how one gave her his card, saying she should get in touch if she wanted to see a spaceship.

One Vogue writer recalled a Silicon Valley man messaging her via a dating app, in which he noted: “In 50 per cent of your photos you’re holding an iPhone. It may interest you to find out that I invented the iPhone. More accurately I was an engineer on the original iPhone . . .”

Most promisingly, some guys are astoundingly rich. It is suggested Kerr’s engagement ring is a 2.5-carat diamond worth around dollars 55,000. She has already moved into Spiegel’s dollars 12m LA pad. Between his money and her Victoria’s Secrets bridesmaids, no wonder sources claim they are planning an “extravagant wedding”.

It might rival even the Napster founder Sean Parker’s $US10m performance-art bash. He married songwriter Alexandra Lenas in a canopy among Big Sur’s redwoods decorated to look like an enchanted forest. Some 350 guests wore Tolkienesque costumes created by The Lord of the Rings costume designer Ngila Dickson. They sat on white fur rugs and were given bunnies to pet. Presumably rabbit babysitters were on hand when the disco started.

If such fantasies inspire you to become a Twag, the great news is you do not have to be a supermodel to be in with a chance. Such is the dearth of single women in Silicon Valley that one dating site, Dating Ring, crowdfunded a plane to fly single women to Palo Alto from New York.

Be warned, though: guys are single because they are married to the job.

No wonder most meet their partners at college or work — the Facebook chief executive Mark Zuckerberg met his wife, Priscilla Chan, at Harvard.

The Instagram co-founder Kevin Systrom met girlfriend Nicole Schuetz at Stanford. Melinda met Bill Gates when, in 1987, they sat next to each other at an Expo trade-fair dinner. “He was funnier than I expected him to be,” she said.

Kerr began dating Spiegel in 2014 after meeting him at a Louis Vuitton dinner in New York. You can bet he was networking. Shortly after Louis Vuitton showcased their cruise collection in a Snapchat story. Last season Snapchat went on to become the biggest new name at NY fashion week.

If you want to meet tech guys, you might catch them at Silicon Valley parties, which is how the Uber chief executive Travis Kalanick met his partner, Gabi Holzwarth, a violinist hired to play. Or they might be schmoozing clients downtown in a swanky Noe Valley club in San Francisco or a boring Union Square hotel in New York. In London you find them around Old Street, aka Silicon Roundabout, in bars, at hackathons, or start-up meet-ups. In the day they are coding at Google Campus or practising their pitching in a co-working space.

Some tech boys date the old-fashioned way: on Tinder. Airbnb founder Brian Chesky met his girlfriend of three years, Elissa Patel, through the app. When I interviewed Instagram co-founder Systrom he admitted that when he had been single he had signed up.

Dating agency Linx — presumably a play on operating system Linux — is dedicated to making Silicon Valley matches. Amy Andersen set it up in 2003 after moving to Palo Alto and being “flabbergasted” by the number of eligible men. She claims her clients are “extremely dynamic and successful individuals’’: tech founders, tech chief executives, financier founding partners of large institutions and “tons of entrepreneurs”.

Andersen says tech guys make “fabulous partners”. Romantic and chivalrous, they write love letters, plan dates, “even proposing on Snapchat!” If you want to marry a tech billionaire, she says, “you need to bring your A game.” Her clients look “for women who are equally, if not more, dynamic and interesting than he is!”

There are drawbacks to dating tech guys. Before Google buys your amore’s business, he will be living on *** Noodles waiting for the next round of funding — and workaholics are dull.

Kerr says Spiegel is “25, but he acts like he’s 50. He’s not out partying. He goes to work in Venice [Beach], he comes home. We don’t go out. We’d rather be at home and have dinner, go to bed early.” Which might suit Kerr, but is not my idea of a fun.

You had also better be prepared to share your life. When Priscilla Chan miscarried three times, Mark Zuckerberg wrote about it on Facebook, while Chesky used a romantic trip with his girlfriend to promote Airbnb - uploading a picture of her in bed, with a note saying “f* hotels”. Besides all of which is the notorious issue of Silicon Valley sexism.

It has a chief exec-bro culture that puts pick-up artist/comedian Dapper Laughs to shame. Ninety per cent of women working in the Valley say they have witnessed sexist behaviour, 60 per cent have experienced unwanted ****** advances at work, two thirds of them from their boss. Whitney Wolfe, a co-founder of Tinder, took Justin Mateen to court for ****** harassment. Her lawsuit against the company alleged that Mateen, her former partner, sent text messages calling her a “*****”.

Spiegel has tech bro form. He apologised after emails from his days at Stanford emerged: missives about stripper poles, getting black-out drunk, shooting lasers at “fat chicks”, and promising to “roll a blunt for whoever sees the most **** tonight (Sunday)”. After one fraternity Hawaiian luau party, he signed off emails “f*bitchesgetleid”.

No wonder some women are not inspired to become Twags. Especially when you could be a tech billionaire yourself. Would you not rather be Sheryl Sandberg, chief operating officer of Facebook, than married to the boss?Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/black-formal-dresses

Remember when I ran a cheese grater over the maps
Told you traveling scared me to death
- I changed after you shipwrecked my soul against the walls of your heart
How lucky I am that
Souls can't be created or destroyed
They are always something, in one form or another
And I am so happy
Because this raft of driftwood has made an adventurer of me

The days, the months, the years just keep flying by
but where there used to be tears have now been
replaced with cheers that I am still here
and I sit looking out the window as I travel
down the road of life observing and learning
from experience that everyone has their own
little or maybe big secrets that will never ever
be revealed to anyone and so many pretend
to be something or someone that they are not
as they often overlook the fact that
the truth will always be the truth
even if no one believes it but a lie is still a lie
even if everyone believes it.

I am who I am and what you see is what you get
and your approval is not needed and some of the time
I live in seclusion seemingly trapped in some illusion
lost but found as the world keeps spinning around
as there are times there  seems no escape
from my confusion but I am happy alone
because there I can roam the innards of my mind
and like the three things that cannot be hidden-
the sun, the moon, and the truth,
my words always find their way out.

I am who I am, an Artist/writer
and I let my power of love overcome
my love of power and through my words of love
I tell no lies and what I am in your eyes
doesn't really matter and I don't care
what others think because I don't live my life
for anybody but me.

Others can live their lies and pretend
but in the end all will know what they really are
and there will be no love only shame
that will fit like a glove as they shovel the dirt
over their grave leaving only those left behind
to feel their pain.

I am far from being what I want to be
but with my soul's help I shall succeed
as I am not an adventurer by choice but by fate
and the more I think about it the more I realize
that there is nothing more artistic
then to love others with the words that I write
and writing those words that are in my soul
makes the pain stop so I write away my pain
expecting no gain except to know that
somewhere somehow my words gave
someone the ability to love again.          Jon  York          2013

I'm an Adventurer,
I was born to travel this world
I shouldn't be tied down

I need to be free.

I have to be prepared
to set sail and explore
the deepest and the darkest,
the highest and the lightest
parts that this World has to offer me.

as a child i remember
staring at exotic fruit in the overpriced grocery store
wanting so badly to taste the mystery of a distant place

i took a bite of what i purchased and threw it aside
less of an adventurer than i made myself up to be

The adventurer returned home years later,
Carrying bags of seeds, stones, and rarities.

He found that his house had been painted
Green and white.
He didn't like it.

He found that his son had been born,
And named "Jean-Baptiste."
He didn't like it.

He found that his wife had figured him dead
And remarried.
He didn't like it.

He planted her the seeds,
Built her gardens with the stones,
Gifted her the rarities,
Then smiled and left her to her happiness,
But he didn't like it.

Mirror Opposite

I am what I am?  What am I?  Hedonist, Activist, Devil, Bodhi, Perverse Geek?  I am what I am.  

I am violent tempered but always happy. I am sickened by the worlds decay but delight in the cause of the infections that lead to that same decay.  Opposite ends of the same slide rule.  I ask myself daily; “Self, what are you today?’  The response is never the same and always confusing. I am what I am.

I AM, isn’t that what God said in Genesis?  Was God indecisive too?  Fool, you are not a god!  But, I do believe a god rest in each one of us.  

I am pleasure.  Who doesn’t like to find pleasure?  Come to me.  The sweet, sweet embrace of another, the moisture of the kiss, the exhilaration of the something new, dangerous and palpable, that causes an alkali sensation to rise from your throat.  

I am what I am and that’s all that I am.  Are my forearms as big as Popeye’s?  And, just what caused that deformity anyway?  Surely not *******, as the midnight comics suggest or we would all be his brothers.  

I am Buddha.  My inner being screams in disgust at being reborn again and again and again.  I know how to break the wheel of karma but, that Ferris wheel holds wondrous deprivations along the way and who am I to not try on one or two of those hungry ghosts.  

I am Fey.  My wings clipped and banality killing me slowly.  Where is my golden acorn to plant under a full moon to renew my magic?  I am attracted to hell and repelled by a chorus of angels.  If there is really nothing better then cloud-sitting in heaven then why bother, Give me Valhalla.  At least in Valhalla  you could get good tickets to a fight.  I am a mirror.  

I reflect what society tells me while struggling against the media-ocricy that streams into my sensory organs like polluted waves from the Valdez.  A elephant seal of anarchy covered and drowning in my own conservative opinions.  

I am female hear me roar.  If for no other reason then being told that, however in touch, I can not be a feminist.  I pay homage to Aphrodite upon her shell, Dianna by her stag?  O.K. Maybe not a feminist.  How about sexist, or racist, or bigot or xenophobe?  Maybe.  

I am  Worm fodder.  I wish to believe in another world after this but hide behind science and its violently anonymous creator.  When dead will we all lie quiet as the grave in out grave as the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms get in my guts no doubt.  Would that be so bad?

I am the shade of Inubus and Quatezecotyl, Crowly and Repoche.  Lapping up their words and making a **** pile of their experiences.  What am I?  

I am what I am.  Silent when I should be loud, and an abomination when I need to be beautiful.  Polar opposite made flesh with a grin.  

What am I?  I am a Questioner.  There is no knowledge that can withstand time.  Every question is correct and every answer is wrong.  How do I know what is truth.  Is there really TRUTH or just Memorex.  

I am a Seeker of arcane thoughts and novel philosophies.  Everything has been said.  But, can it be said in a manner that makes sense at this point at this time grasshopper?  How many licks does it take to get to the center of the tootsie pop?  I want to know!  

I am the Thinker. Elbow on knee, hand on chin.  Why did they **** Copernicus?  Was it really just for a heliocentric universe or something much more political?  ROY G BIV are the colors of the rainbow but what if we could see ultraviolet and infrared?  What if I stood inside the rainbow would it be back as all the colors mixed?  I am what I am.  

I am the Adventurer.  Sword in hand and cod piece attached correctly.  I head out in search of what I question and seek and think about.  How else would you find your own truths.  Truth, not beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.  If every grain of sand is an universe unto itself then I wish to explore each and every one to delve into their faceted trivialities and pillage the knowledge from them.  

I am an organic being content to take over a new world each night in my dreams and complacently ignore my biological clock counting down to unknown oblivion.


Wolff

A bit braver,
a bit daring,
a bit breathtaking,
a bit optimistic,
a bit spontaneous.
To become this great adventurer, two ingredients are necessary:
An ounce of confidence, and a believer.
I believe in everything you do.
Now all you must do is convince yourself.

Your flying in my mind,
Like an unknown light in the sky.
Every time you hide
I seek for a spark.

I am no longer a dreamer
And a scattered looner.
I am no wanderer,
Or an adventurer.

It is hard to live,
When your hand are ties..
And waste your time,
Searching true meaning of this so called life.

I hope I can find where the fireflies are,
Ask them where they get their light.
Is it from the sun,
Or the moon and the stars.

In this unknown place of loneliness,
I will try to be calm.
Count one two and three,
Till i close my eyes.

I am sure that my heart is still waiting,
And I don't want a maybe.
After all you're my one and only.
That I want to own daily.

Please save a love for me young lady,
Don't pour everything away.
Reserve something,
For me to write another love story.

As the pages slide to yet another yonder of canvases,
one can only ponder upon the seared images of the past smiles.  

Nothing was ever so evident as to where the dices rolled,
but it was certain to land in the mist and shadows of hues!

In youth I would have shook by the self casted shadows,
but the silence of the nights dissipated smoke to clarity.

One does not lose everything to stay at the bottom,
for falling so low would only move to elevate and progress.

Even if you fall and break every piece of your bones,
what does not flatline your pulse will bring you back rebuilt!

So sail like the adventurer, or pioneers who would ***** a temple upon the new world ripe for a firm grasp.

For no one was ever worthy to prescribe a gift of life,
but to dare dream and articulate your envisioned pages of future.

The sky like glass
the oceans silver,
the meandering streams
ever passing like fading dreams.

Now who will paint the midnight stars?
Who will illuminate this darkness?

Who will free those chained captives
and portray the color of their life?
Who will paint the sky with stars
and uncover the mysteries
of the galaxy's so far.

A voyager or traveler?
an adventurer or pilgrim?

Nay none but the hands
of beauty and light,
will ever touch brush to sky.

Yet the two
light and beauty betrayed the stars.
They forgot their love
and broke a legion of hearts.

They left them to die
to fade darkened as the darkening sky.
They left those precious gems forgotten
purged of light,
stripped of beauty.

The stars in turn one by one
fell deep into the abyss.
Burning shamefully
forever it seemed cast out of bliss.

Great was the lament of the sky
the day it was robbed of its pearls.
Barren of beauty love and light.
And there it sank
deep into the dark cold gray sea.

Slowly, sorrowfully
it sank deep, deep, deep
into the dark cold seas.


Night has brought those who sleep
golden warmth forever to keep,
It has wooed them to sleep
and caressed them there
in the softness of the deep.

Sleepless tormented and frail
Those the ones who yield not to hail.
Those the ones who do not look up
Those the ones whose evils fill their cup.

Oh lover of the night
mischievous beauty
Oh darkening shadow
oh fading light.



Your glory was once breath taking
your eminence eye opening.
Your beauty desired above all else
your light above all eternal.

Like a unfinished work
or a half built home,
you are now neglected
faded into black
The chance was yours
hope flew upon your shoulders.
The sky a white blank canvas
the stars yearning to be painted

And yet you oh beauty
you oh love,
forgot those precious gems.

You forgot the power that they had
you forgot the love that they shared.

And for your sins
eternal damnation
will be placed upon
your wretched heads

For you are the murderers
of those starry lights
You are the killers
of the love filled nights.

Lovers now cease to love
Dreamers now dream no more
of the heavens above.
Your sins have bound you
to an eternity of flame,
From here on our
you life will never be the same.

On that day that cursed day,
when the devils triumph was great
When the heavens fell
and beauty and love made their foolish fate.

The sky fell deep into the sea
and there it laid for many days
and many nights.

Mourning the loss of beauty and love
mourning its fate mourning its doom.

And on that day that cursed day
when legions of devils
danced upon lovers hearts.

When the darkness
seemed brighter then the light.
When the ages of man
seemed to fall away.

When the very heavens broke loose
and the neck of life
breathed its last under
the chocking noose.




Then and there in the deepest of dungeons
a hope small and beautiful was sprung anew.

This hope
was not like any other ever known.
It was bright like fire
warm like the sun
fierce as the wolf
that never turns to run.

Like a furnace it billowed
and it burned.
It raged and roared
it smote all in its path.

It heaved and it sighed
and broke apart the fearful curse
That held captive the lovely sky
and kept it from you
and kept it from I.

It pierced through the darkness
it scorched the fear and broke its back.
This new hope bright as the sun
fierce as the wolf
took up the soft cold hand of the sky
held her close and lifted her high.

Lifted her out of the deep deep sea
lifted far out of the deep cold sea.

It raised her up on the wings of eagles
and carried her heart
to the safe havens of Elysium.
And with it the noble Hope
restored beauty, love
and light to the world.

Brought back the dreamers and the lovers
and returned the world
back to its rightful place.

And at the end of all things
the last and final deed
this chivalrous hope did do.
Was paint the glorious stars onto the sky
for me and for you.

This hope so fearsome
this hope so bright
this hope so great that it has saved the beauty
and has brought back the light.

The sky now once more does shine
the heavens so full with beauty.
If only if only
those jewels
those precious gems and jewels
of unimaginable worth
were truly mine.

Oh hope how marvelous a thing thou art
for you have painted the skies
with the most precious of stars.
And have filled this heart,
this heart with love.

I walk alone                                                                                                              All in my imaginative realms                                                                                 Like an adventurer who looks for                                                                           The impossible in the possible ...                                                                             I walk alone                                                                                                              All in my dreams ,but                                                                                              I find only horrible nightmares ...                                                                           I walk bare-footed                                                                                                    All in my impossible kingdoms ,but                                                                       I find only uneven ways in front of me ...                                                          I walk alone                                                                                                          All under those heavy rains ,but                                                                         I lose my pretty umbrella over there ...                                                              I walk alone                                                                                                          All in that gloomy darkness,but                                                                         I find only scary shadows near me ...                                                                 I walk alone                                                                                                          In the realms of my words ,but                                                                           I find only emptiness over there ...                                                                       _____________________

he embraced the crevices and ridges of her body
like an adventurer exploring new terrains

I've always wanted to be
Awakened.
Maybe even by a
Knight in shining armor or a
Handsome Prince in disguise.
But here I am,
Sleeping,
Curled around
My bruised and bleeding soul.
The tower walls
Are impossibly high
Carefully built by
My own broken hands
So that
No adventurer, however brave
No knight, however bold
No prince, however cunning
Can scale the thorn cover heights
And wake me.
My breath,
Slow and even.
My heart,
Scarred and beaten.
My soul,
Locked and sleeping.
Oh,
Slumber on
Sweet sweet, sleeper,
For no one will
Wake you when
Life
Is over.

I'd like to think I'm going to marry somebody who loves all the same things I do, somebody who is 'perfect' for me. But that's the thing about love, it's forever changing and there is no such thing as perfect, just commitment. It isn't about finding somebody who is just like you, its finding somebody whose different. Love is finding somebody who grows you and stretches you, it's not always about the bubbly stuff movies make love out to be.
I bet you my future spouse will hate Star Wars, they'll probably tell me that I need to get a shed to put my Star Wars collection in. They'll probably tell me it can be like my own humble abode away from the madness of kids (if we have any) or from the cluttered house. I bet you they'll smile and graze my arm while trying to convince me; and I will be convinced. I'll move my collection I spent years adding to into a shed because I love the person who hates that my collection clashes with our house.
I'll turn on the radio while we're driving and when my favorite song comes on I'll turn it up and sing my heart out. And just because they know it's my favorite they won't change it, even though they absolutely hate it.  
I'll tell my spouse I want a writing studio and they'll protest and say they hate waking up in the middle of the night wondering why I'm scribbling words onto paper instead of holding them close. But even though they don't like waking up alone they'll let me have my own studio because they know that I love writing as if it were a part of my very soul.
My spouse will probably be reserved and hate taking risks, but I'll beg them to come on adventures with me. After debating endlessly about safety and risk involved we'll probably settle for a living room camp out because they don't like bugs and the smell of a musty old tent is enough to make it seem realistic. I'll probably protest and complain but still gladly embark on a pretend camping adventure because it's not where you are but who you're with.
When we go on vacation you'll complain that I always force you to take unnecessary risks. You'll hate that I take you to underwater caverns because you're worried we'll somehow get trapped. I'll scare the hell out of you most times but you'll remember that's why you love me, because I'm a constant adrenaline seeking adventurer. You won't always embark on the adventures with me, but you'll always be there by my side seeing it through your perspective, and we'll always share what it's like through our eyes. I'd like to think that hearing my energized booming voice talk about jumping off a 60ft waterfall will be enough of a thrill for you.
I won't want to cuddle with you because I get hot easily. You'll  still hold me close because you know how much I love your scent and the steady rhythm of your breathing coaxing me to sleep. I'll wake up in the middle of the night give you a kiss on the forehead and probably sit on our bathroom tub with a cup of coffee  just thinking about how lucky I am.
You'll think its weird that I need to drink coffee to help me sleep. You'll hold my leg down while we're in important meetings or church just like my mother always has. You'll give me the look that says "stop shaking" and I'll try my best to, but I'll probably start back up in 5 minutes. You won't entirely understand my ADHD and constant need to move, but you'll think it's charming that I'll always be up before you with your coffee already prepared the way you like it. I hope you'll like coffee as much as I do, but in reality you probably wont. So I'll make you tea instead, and if drinks aren't your thing I'll make you breakfast. I'm sure you'll feel like you married a child who is always hyper and it'll royally **** you off most days but you'll remember that's the reason you we're so intrigued by me. You liked that I reminded you of childhood and what it's like to have fun.
I'll still drag you to the toy store when we're 40 and I'll use our kids as an excuse (if we have them). I'll tell you that toys are important for a child to develop normally, but in reality I'll just want to chase you down the isles with some super hero mask and a plastic sword. I'll end up buying you a tacky key chain that you'll hate, but you'll keep it on your keys because it'll remind you of what a goober I am.
I imagine you'll hate the cold, you won't want to go snowboarding with me, instead you'd stay in cabin cozied up to the fireplace with a book and warm cider. I'll beg you to just try it a couple times and you will, I hope you end up liking it but if you don't maybe you'll still enjoy being in a place I love so much. You'll love being places tropical full of sun and peaceful ocean noises, and I'll hate it. I'll complain about heat rashes and the humidity but I'll shut up the second your eyes light up when you peer at the ocean from our hotel balcony.
We'll probably fight more than 50% of our relationship, maybe not fights but bickering arguments. When I'm driving you'll be yelling and screaming about how terrible or a driver I am. And when you drive I'll complain about how much of a grandma driver you are. We'll bicker about what kind of milk to buy and if we should buy organic produce or just the regular kind. We'll argue about music, movie choices, and travel plans, but it won't be terrible fighting that end with tears and broken plates, it'll end with the cold shoulder for 5 minutes then settle back to normal. We will **** each other off to no end, but we'll love so deeply. I'll always think I'm right when we argue, and I can't wait for all the times you'll put me in my places. I can't wait for a life with you, full of love and compromises.

Dear you,
I promise that I wont always be an *******, even though you'll probably be a bigger one. We'll go out to eat and make up ridiculous scenarios about people just to entertain ourselves. We'll simultaneously get annoyed with people who are ignorant, and we'll spend countless days and nights laughing about how terrible we are. We will argue and we will fight, but we will never go to bed mad, that has to be in our wedding vowels or something. We always have to be willing to try new things for each other, even if it sounds terrible. We will always find our way back to each other, even after a long sleepless night of arguing. When you say you love me on our wedding day you will always mean it, so if the fire burns out you have to promise that you'll always be willing to find it again. I know I'm a pain in the *** and I'm hard to love but I promise I will love you so deeply and fully. Nobody ever said marriage would be easy, but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to sacrifice 'easy' for you. I'm ready to embark on a journey of a life time with you no matter how hard it gets. I love you, you dumb ****.

A fluffy winged adventurer seed
sanctified by the halo
gifted by morning sun's kind rays
slowly descends on its parachute.

Bright pale eyes and
long fair hair

She was a born
adventurer with a
rebellious flare

Insomniac,
she came by the lake
every night

Shining like a
torchlight
against the moonless sky

She wondered how life
was like on the
other side

And curious by heart,
she decided to find out

Stepping into the cold
black water, the air
was dead still

In the eerie silence,
she boldly
started to swim

With graceful
strokes, she approached the
opposite shore

But halfway the freezing lake,
her body could suddenly
move no more

Wide-eyed and
panicking, her cries for help
echoed in the open

Sinking, flailing
limbs and screaming 'til her
lungs grew swollen

Drowned,
she never reached the other
end of the lake

But in the nearby
village, an identical girl
still lives today

Bright pale eyes and
long fair hair

Nightgown dripping wet

Hissing Cat! Why does your back rise up and chaff the sky?

This "ready to rise up and claw" attitude deprives you as much as it protects you.

Are you that fragile?

Has the creator not given you choice? Inspiration? Intellect?
Yes?!
Then why are you so hesitant to use them?

Is your life so right? So perfect? So full?
You have no need for the joy of expansion?

I wonder...
What if your fear, Kitty Cat, is not of the unknown?

But of the known.

We have drank in indifferent and contemptuous looks.  
And be they assuming or aloof,
Or be they from those we love and know or from those we admire and want in our lives...

Who ever they come from,  they leave a bitter taste.  

Yes, it's hard not to care or let it affect you but this is your life Catherine Ann.
Your one wild and precious life.

God gave you the heart of an Adventurer!
An Explorer!

So do it!

And trust in the Creator
And trust in you
And trust that Love will always find you no matter where you find yourself.

I have caught words

Unheard...
For awhile now

Seeking each meaning behind them
The cracks inside "Love"
The light within "darkness"
Holding on the the memory of me
Comparing each scar with my own
Wondering if I could bleed the same metaphor

Would that make me a poet
Or a dreamer
When I look into the stars
And find a smile along the constellations
Or a lonely tree
On top of the sea
Saying I may be deep
But I'm solid enough to hold you

Would it make me a poet
Or a carpenter
If I build towns inside of my heart
Structures onto your pretty mind
The tower for two
The twin towers
That sadly fell without warning

Would it make me a poet
Or a scuba diver
If I dived into your eyes to find a smile untamed
Or sink into muddy waters
You say is your home

Would it make me a poet
Or a singer
If I could change the way you think
With a word or two
If I could hum a tune
And that would make you see a different point of view

I searched for answers inside a thick mind
Trying to find words inside an onomatopoeia
A message behind my minds colorful Aurora
Compelling a reason along life's aroma
Questioning the play of letters
That simply spell
P
O
E
T
R
Y

This is who I say I am
But I don't fully understand

Am I a poet?
Or just an adventurer

I miss you.
I miss the way your eyes shone when they set on ancient stone.
I miss the cadence of your dusky voice when it spoke to those no one else could see.
I miss the glee that drove you deeper to the past.
I miss all the love you once had to give.
I miss you, my tender wild adventurer.
I love you my vicious beastie.
I wish I could find you once more.
Sit and talk for awhile of all of the things that were felt, of all of the things that were said. Of all of the beautiful traumas and the wonderful scars.
You were beautiful in your poetic misery. In your deep blue aloneness. You were a vision on the shores of the Loch. I wonder now and again where you are. Are you wandering round this globe or are you quite trapped, as I suspect you are. Because sometimes I see you beating on the brown bars of your cell, when I look in the mirror.

I wish I had known
Long before now
That I was doing everything wrong.

That the things
I did and said
Were of so little help,
So little merit,
So little worth,
That they made me
Mean so little to you.

I wish I had known
Long before now
That it is not enough
That I should love you
Unconditionally.
Everyone in your life
Must follow suit
In what I do
For you to bear the
Smallest fraction of happiness.

They say that one person
Can make such a difference
In your life.
But I feel that I make
No difference at all either way,
That should I stay
Or should I go,
Your life would move on without me.
I feel that my presence
Makes no more difference
Than my absence would,
Should I vanish from your life.

I feel I am simply existing,
At your side,
In waiting.

I wait for the days
When you want to have me at your side,
The days when you smile, and laugh,
And tell me how beautiful I am,
Regardless of what I'm wearing,
How my hair is done (or undone),
Whether or not my makeup is perfect,
Or I am wearing any at all.

I wait for the days when
You come to my door
And as soon as I open it
Pull me into your embrace,
Openly expressing your joy
In seeing me,
In being with me,
In being mine
And calling me yours.
In making me feel like
No one else could ever bring
Such a smile to your face,
And such a warmth
To your eyes.  

I wait for the days when
You wrap me in your arms
With a strength that I imagine
Can only be borne of love,
Shielding me, protecting me,
Safeguarding me in your unending
Quest to be all that I want,
Though you already are.

I wait for the days
When you kiss my forehead gently,
And in that kiss
Express that
I am yours to love in my entirety,
To protect in my frailty,
To bring along with you
As you tread your path of life,
As your partner in crime,
Your co-pilot,
Your fellow adventurer.

I wait, now, for those days
That used to be everyday
In our little utopia.

I wake in the morning
With the hope that today,
I will make you happy.
That I will bring light and color
Into your life and your world,
As you once so often told me
That I did.

I wake with the hope that today,
I will be special to you,
And beautiful,
Priceless,
Treasured,
Wanted,
Loved.

I wake with the hope that today,
I'll get it right.

I'll get it right, won't I?

Maybe I just need to try a little harder.

But such days, now,
Are few and far between.
More like a game of chance
Which I hope I can win,
At least every
Now and then.  

I know not where I went wrong.
So I can only offer an apology,
A small, fragile thing
In my trembling, outstretched hand,
In hopes that you will take it from me
With the same gentleness
And delicate care
That you once employed with me.


I am sorry that I have failed you.


I am sorry that I am not
Enough for you,
That I am only one person,
And as such,
Can only give you
What one person may.

I am sorry that my softspoken words,
Of encouragement, of comfort,
Managing to cover
Debilitating inner pain
That I could not make everything
Right for you,
Were not enough.

Could I have said more?

I'm sorry that my gentle touch,
Easing the furrow in your
Worried brow,
Working the stress
From your shoulders and back,
Upon which you carry
Far too much,
Holding you as you were ill
Or upset,
Or too tired and weary of the world
For anything more than
Laying in my arms,
Was not enough.

Could I have done more?

I'm sorry that I possess
Very little in the way
Of material goods,
That I could not help you more
In your search for a way
To have a better, richer,
More fulfilled life.

I wish I had more to give you.
Had I the world in my palm,
It would be yours,
And all that was in it,
Yours as well.

Could I have given more?

I have, in truth,
Done my best.
I have given all that I had,
And all that I could,
And still more that was not
Really mine to give.
I have never wanted so much
To give all of everything,
In every way,
To someone.
And it tears at my heart,
Claws of gargoyles,
Nails of coffins,
Thorns of roses,
That I don't have a way
To do such a thing for you.

I am only sorry
That what little I did have,
Likened to the offerings
A peasant might possess,
Were of meager proportions
That could not satisfy you.

My heart shatters
As a bauble falling
To an unforgiving,
Concrete end,
As I tuck myself
Into a half-empty bed,
Wishing your warmth
And your smile
Were coming at me
From the other side.

If a pair of arms to hold you,
A pair of ears to listen,
A mouth to speak kind words
And remind you how much
You are loved,
A heart that beats for you
And shakes violently
At the thought that it might have
Lost its worth in your eyes,
Are ever what you seek,
And are what might make you happy,
I will be here.

I will always be here.


I am so sorry....

*...that I failed you.