(no subject)

i find myself in the midst of a rather arduous journey, an attempt to ucover or unearth some nugget of
wisdom.

somewhere along this path, between the fiery shadows on the wall and the bright sun above i was
struck with

vertigo, and here in the dark i may have lost my way. i no longer am assured of the direction i am going,
and i

progress with noticably diminished resolve...however, here i pause and call out into the beyond, can
anybody

hear me? or am i all alone?

(no subject)

Today I wish everyone I have ever met forgot me yesterday. 

If they were to do so, I could live today unfettered, Truly alone, basking in the silence of solitude. Finally, if only for a day, I could be no one, a transient enigma, a stranger on a train. 

And tomorrow, I would not have to be anymore.

But I will not get my wish, I never do. I will remain an object to receive their gaze, their judgement, their form. I will be another "not me" for all of you, if never for myself. This is why I don't speak, why I don't write. Words are much stronger than something as fragile and temporal as a person. Someone might read them, and I might be forced to live on through them. Still an object, though with a bit less form, immortal. Forever punished, crippled by and forced to bear this burden of existence laid upon me by meaningless insignificant no-bodies. 

Don't read these words. Don't remember these words. Don't be concerned with their origin. 
  • Current Mood
    morose morose

to the rhythm of my sirens song

i think milton was right, and the notion of rhyming verse is more restricting than artful, more of a hassle and a cripple than it could be a true expression, and i had no intention of including it, however it appears inspiration failed to take heed of intentionality.

i hear your name
as though it rings deep in my soul
a slow rhytmic vibration
the first sign of life
on a cold dark lonesome moon
the slightest quake, the faintest sound
but just enough to sway the whole 
never to return and never to forget
the sweetest pain, and no regret
as I would die a thousand times
than hazard lose you in my mind
some day ahead I stand strong and true
and my true love confess to you
but yet I wait for the day to arrive
and die that much more inside
my shame restrains, my courage fails
the walls of truth I can't assail
on fear for I by chance reveal
your dance of love was not the real;
to find myself alone in dark
I wander not, for all is stark
when lies as truth will suffice
to sacrifice my mortal life
all is lost what can be right
no longer days, forever night
by chance in dreams you will alight
to set my capsized soul aright
  • Current Mood
    melancholy melancholy

Alas, My love

 One day my eyes were open
A sight of beauty they beheld
Saw all the wonders of creation
Eyes transfixed under your spell

In time my ears were perked up
An angel’s voice came rolling in
Insistent as ocean currents sway
The heavens’ symphony begins

From then my arms did open
Seeking warmth in an embrace
Inviting to the tired and weary
Come home and take your place

Twas hence detected an aroma
Only wishing for inhalation
Perfume nor rose accus’ed
From no substance but indication

At once my lips had parted
Sneaking out came a sigh
Truth of existence stood before me
As though awaiting my reply

At long last my soul uncovered
Necessary cause, reason for birth
True Love now stood before me
Nothing higher here on Earth

So of my heart I made a present
Nothing of greater value had I to give
From my mortal chest I tore it
Knowing without I could not live

Alas twas insufficient for tribute
Scarred, bruised and broken it had been
I blinked and it stopped beating
Turned to ash before me, blew off in the wind

With hollow chest I crumbled
Body folded on the ground
Eyes closed, arms crossed not breathing
Not a smell nor slightest sound

No visions dare seem worthy
No more music fills my ears
Arms will do no holding
Alone moments fade to years

But still I move not from my outpost
Sleep not a wink whilst on my watch
Neither specter nor siren disturb me
A second encounter I shall not botch

My love I found you one day
And all my senses prove you real
I know now ill wait forever
For in my soul your are still here

(no subject)

this is my confession, for whatever it's worth
of suicidal depression, i've no ground left on this earth

not a single thing i try
can wrest you from my mind
your name i kept inside
carved bleeding in my thigh
but my world is still a lie
from you im still denied

these words i couldnt share
with you, they'd surely scare
your mind, with how i care
and so ill leave you unaware

for ive been lost and full of fear
yet for me shed not a tear
watching blood flow, all is clear

now is my time to stand up and run 
ever farther away, till i meet the setting sun
burning bright till this day is done
forever in dreams, where two can be one
  • Current Mood
    cold cold

(no subject)

 Running into the rain,
broken and bleeding
driving into the rain,
feeling defeated 
gain no ground in this maze
one more time, she is lost in the haze...

I came up behind her, 
her symbol a reminder, 
yet never astride her, 
my soul is denied her

(no subject)

 If your picture is worth a thousand words,
my inkwell wold run dry
before i could transcribe 
all that comes to mind
with a wink of an eye
or a twitch of your thigh
struck with a gaze from on high
you know this ain't a lie
i'm about to eat your soul alive
and you gon' let me

(no subject)

 The fires of day burn out, rhythmic steps keep time
Drifting hither and yon across twilights pitch
The lovers lay sleeping, their dreams are sublime
These soles are bleeding, shoes blown out a stitch

No stars above me, only storms swirl above
Raging waters toss my vessel, to where shall I resort?
Shall I plunge the depths, feel davey jones love?
Lo, there’s a flicker, fading fast off to port

My miracle, my savior, you shine with salvations light
My course now decided, with renewed vigor I row
Onward I struggle Fighting the surf now feels right
This pain fleeting, eternal peace your light will bestow

No time to question or doubt, my faith is my ground
Rest is for the weak, my salvation must be earned
Struggle is my purpose, this now I have found
Flickering light never closer until I had learned

Twas only a firefly, blinking alone to keep alive
In this jar I keep you, your truth is now mine
All life is precious, but yet we must strive
For nothing is given, what we create is divine

Morning approaches, calm is sleeping breath
Till eyes will reopen, to find a jar full of death
  • Current Mood
    nauseated nauseated

(no subject)


I may be the one to award and deliver the punishment, yet it remains the case of my being the benevolent dictator allowing you the freedom to adhere…

 

Lives of great men remind us

We ourselves can be divine,

And departing leave behind us

Footsteps on the sands of time – this ones a quote, which is really too bad

 

Hey! Wake the Fuck up! We ARE gods! There is no being we have yet to meet who can exceed our powers, our ability to create, to destroy, to love, to ignore….and look at what we have done with it. We as a species have moved beyond the need to fit in, to symbiotically find our place. We create our environment as we see fit. Look at New York City, Look at New Orleans, Look at the farmland of the Midwest, Look at Las Vegas….no god made these things. We did. Today we are impervious to the disease that ravaged our ancestors. We don’t even let losing our legs stop us from Running (see poor little tink tink). If our hands fail the task we create that which will do the job. We move forward in time each day stronger and more intelligent than the day before, and do so in ever increasing numbers. Our boundaries are simply the ground where our next step will fall. We may be afraid, we may be beaten but with history as my proof we will persevere, and in a short time laugh at the insignificance of our former obstacles.

But come on now. Look in the mirror at what we Divine beings busy ourselves with. There are those who choose to help, there are those who will teach and heal and protect. Yet by and large we gossip and fret over the most trivial of episodes in a procession of monotonous frivolity. Celebrity dominates the news. Our boss dominates our job. Our work dominates our day and shortens our night, and we don’t like it. All the limitations on our freedom are those we willfully accept. Those limitations with many followers are no more legitimate than those with few. But the popular kids won’t tell you that. Followers are simply Followers. New leadership will arise, arrive, and abolish the inanity and inadequacies of the previous administration. The Followers will legitimize their title.  Our new leaders eventually will fall and be replaced as well; change is inevitable. However eventually there will arise enough Reason for the many to See and Understand the process, to not get caught up in the fad of the day and seek out legitimate truth regardless of the source from which it flows.

 

I wonder if I have written anything worth reading. Part of me wants to put all of this out in the public eye, see how the response comes. Most of me really doesn’t give a shit. Part of me fears it is nothing but the same drivel anyone puts out there. Different enough, yet remains equally trivial and irrelevant.

A lot of this is abstracted, in one way or another. And some of this is rather direct. I know which is which, and I am happy with that.

It has recently come to my attention that nearly everyone is a superficial douche, no matter what they may claim. I am no different. But what the fuck. More specifically I am now directly speaking to the length of my hair. The hair on my head. It has become an issue for other people. I have nice hair. It is always clean, combed, taken care of. It is also rather long, probably an eight to nine inch pony tail more often than not. And a great many people big and small old and young are completely prejudiced by it. I was told second hand that because I haven’t gotten my haircut I have not taken initiative towards obtaining full time employment. Am I the only person who takes issue with this? It is not “professtional” I was told, and of course this determination is independent of my own interpretation of the meaning. The struggle for me personally is in making the connection between the ability of an individual to perform a given task based on the length of their hair. It is absolutely impossible to have a logical and provable theory of connection between these two independent variables.

(no subject)


Do you ever actually read all of the bullshit that is out there? Junk mail, advertisements, legal disclaimers, ingredients
lists…..any of that shit? Its actually somebody’s job, at some point, to make that shit up and write it down……only to have it be totally ignored. What a shitty job. What a waste of time and energy. Some future civilizations will study it as a historical writing technique in a post-graduate elective studies course. They will get high and laugh their asses off at our stupid commercial jingles, all the while thinking how dumb we must have been for falling prey to such idiocy.

 

But society is elegant. The fluctuating trends corresponding marketing based on it…..or is it the other way around? I love to look down from an airplane window at the super-highways. Beams of light cast ahead in the night, twisting up and down hills, meandering over mountains and around bodies of water…it reminds me of being a little kid in the woods, searching under rocks watching ant colonies meandering the same way. Makes you feel insignificant, and really not as special as humanity as a whole thinks we are. I wonder what it looks like from higher up?