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betterdays Mar 2014
we are,
but the little pebbles
nestled
in the sand of time's
slow flowing river.

it is merely,
the disparate nature
of our minute size
in opposition
to the immensity
of the ponderous
river's drift,
that creates
the grind of pebble,
one to another.

causing,
the eroding
of our
singular thoughts.
it is only
the gentle tap-clacking
of another's desire
to know,
and be known.

that causes,
the acceptence
of the rasp and rub
of external catechisms.

causing,
rejuvenation
in the questing
of kindred souls.

that causes
the revelation
of differing paradigmal,
sways and drifts,
some sympathetic,
some callously
indifferent.

causing,
an ebb and flow
of treatise
and dissertation.
as we abraid
and hone
each other's
sensory disposition,
begetting,
spectrumunul emotions
from elanic bliss
to yearning,
dolorous sorrow.

that causes,
introspective despair
that grapples
against difinitive delight.

we the pebbles,
caught within
this mental current,
cannot visualise
the infinitesimal alterations wrought by time.

yet,
others remark
upon the changes,
that is the way
of the waters path,
as time flows,
unrepentant
into the basin
of life's sea.
we must to survive,
simply concede
our pretentions
and comply
to the  power inherit
in the water's
flow
I wish to give tjis poem, agian....it is one of mybearlier pieces. ...and  was written during a time in which  ded poet , wrote and encouraged  my writing.....I  feel it is a fitting memorial ...to him as a person who struggled with aspects of his life....yet gave of himself in a beautiful and passionate  way ... He will be missed.....vale my friend....
MrNobodysFav Aug 2017
I need help finding a way to show and not say.
To give and not take.  
To enjoy without insecurity leading to overbearing.
To act on instinct rather than lay dormant for lack of difinitive direction.
Help with these words and never the right thing to say.  
Help with letting her know that time for me starts and stops based on my ability to let her know how important and special she is everyday.  
Help me stop ruining the greatest love to ever waste its gracious essence crossing my path.  
Im eternally sorry.  
And undeniably not worthy.
Forgive me
Byron Feb 2013
What of that day a came to seattle to visit? What bearing will I let it have on me and on you. We are iregular people and we are drawn tot he familiar sounds of death and resentment. We have no honest intuition to share. If you could see the music in my fingers  you would be scared and asumsed and would cry all at the same time. I feel it as adrum beat in my mind ba ba boom, She said. When did my words and mind and grasp and launguage beome so ******. To think of the world all like this at once, i understand the increasing need for addiction in our youth. I am of the youth! I said it! I am difinitive and a light to all the dark lowley soon-to-die air brethers. They need me, they all need me. See there t is again shittty thought and a ****** exicution. I am rabling again aren't I, you who is reading this, pay attention when I talk to you. It's more about the stream of thought now than the actual quality of my writing. Because good writers are good magicians, right? Good writers don't talk about themselves in such a revealing way. They would be out of a profession, and passion then wouldn't they? They cannot see behind the secenes can they? I understand fully and fully wel that I am incapable of using my mind to the highest capacity. I understand that and I will simply move on from my understanding to the immagined, created hillside in the disutopian future of calky, grainy perception. Where all is understanding the outer demensions and sci-fi **** that scratches at a truth many do not wish to open. Just filling u a page right now I am going to stop.

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