THE CHANCES YOU TAKE
THE CHOICES YOU MAKE
SO MUCH IS AT STAKE
I HOPE YOU'RE AWAKE
Before the dawn in the longest hours
I am wakefull
Before the bustle of unknown powers
I am wakefull
Before the day once again devours
I am wakefull
Before it has the chance to sour
I am wakefull
Before those folks try to aquire
I am wakefull
Before above me they aspire
I am wakefull
Just as the novelist sat down
to write
to nourish
to align himself
straight-again with the ground;
another man was lying deep-down,
below the grass,
encased in the systems of stars
he had tasted his last breath.
When
His moments froze ~
a small stream of pure water
poured perfectly from above
into crown through to roots,
washed away the worries,
the illnesses,
the aches
that paused this man’s infinite progression.
Within mind
refreshed and courageous,
he traveled far
into jungles of Memory,
there was no shock.
no despair nor confusion.
As these thoughts
flew him through
on the magic carpet that they always were.
He was transormed——
into a guidesman, a dream,
a neon notion;
this realization shook every nerve
in its unseen explosion.
He sought the truth,
it had always been slapping him right in the face.
In life
he went insane for perfection
day-dreaming his Earthly footprint to be
in backward ways.
But that work is now
anonymous.
As he and the new setting
intersected
his Named became Nameless
All melted into rhythm & roots.
Home alone.
I'm a boring person.
I used to think a lot more before.
That was interesting.
Snap.
Dance attempt.
Oh!
French toast for dinner.
Ouch!
Analizing poses in pornography.
Um...
Philosophizing over the translation of an animation.
Tisk.
"It must be very hard to write an opera"
Hmm.
Oh, I hate sunrises.
*sounds of snoring*
When does morning start?
When a creature awakes,
Or when the sun rises?
Yea, the morning is
When a creature awakes
To find it starting anew
In the world dominated
By mortal souls.
The human wakes up
First by opening its eyes,
Then stretching its muscles
And sitting up in a position
To retreat from the bed
That held it prisoner
During the long, dark night.
Out of bed it goes
Attending its normal
Robotic morning routine
Whilst thinking of the future,
Of what the day holds,
And how the day will go.
Either gleefully or woefully
Does the human think of this
For not all mornings
Are filled with happiness and glee.
Fearful not is the human
Who takes things as they go
Wave by wave.
Wave by wave harassing it,
Wave by wave attacking it,
Wave by wave saddening it,
Wave by wave entertaining it,
Wave by wave knocking it down.
Each wave the human does take
Accepting each as a challenge,
As an opponent, an obstacle,
And one that must be rid of.
Defeat is not in its dictionary,
For there is no defeat
If one can rise again,
And face the same challenge
To only be victorious.
The human does not give up,
It does not ponder on the past,
But it rises from its ashes -
Waking up to start anew
In a world dominated
By mortal souls.
.........
a rumpelstiltskin-esque slumber,
unbridled
refreshment
awakens me,
a barefoot stance,
stretching dance,
bounce
in
step,
to the kitchen
checking mail,
the percolator accompanies
a
wagging
tail,
interrupts,
a yawning
pup,
life is good.
10:50 PM 7/7/2013 ©
............
.............
exhaustion surrounds
permeating her auric feild
like a blanket of thick smoke
retiring into the darkness of night
it is her solace and place of quietude
undaunted by earthly storms
the raging fires of voicy havoc
raucous misunderstandings
petty misgivings that cloud the path to clarity
slowly and calmly anesthetized
by the rise and fall of her chest
the inspiration of her breath
far into the depths of unconscious planes
dreaming of spatial incongruencies
distorted views of the day's events
slip into a place where they make more sense
awakened by a sound
a child weeping
baby soft skin broken by the remnants
of an ogre's shame and anguish
after dropping bombs on innocent women and children
abandoned by an angel of forgiveness
left in the scourge of suffering
accompanied by his own flesh and blood babies
one man's desperation
the cold war has been resurrected
a house of horrors comes alive
it is up to each one to survive
raw emotion pierces a hole
gnawing like lightning through the night
into the core of her soul
awakening with cries
but after 35 years
she is finally alive.
10:07 PM 7/3/2013
©
..............
Eyes open only to
The stillness of early morning,
I lie in the comfort of my bed,
Warm, soft, still half asleep,
Everything is so quiet, peaceful,
Daylight is just showing itself
Through the blinds on my windows,
Exhilaration without movement, or sound,
All that I feel at this moment
Is still in a place far away from
This reality I am awakening to,
I will savor what pieces of it I can
Throughout this day.
6:09 AM 5/10/2013 ©
Eyes squint,
A new day,
Birds chirp,
Footsteps heard,
Squeaky floor,
But not a word,
Hallway light clicks,
Kitchen sink,
Water runs,
Smell of coffee,
Day begun,
Alarm sounding,
Snooze button,
Now you're counting,
Blinds open,
With sunshine,
Yawning and stretching,
A wink of your eye,
Mug is ready,
You take a sip,
When you're done,
I kiss your lips,
Monday morning,
A new week,
Then I pause,
I kiss your cheek,
Clothes and shower,
Hair and shoes,
Eggs an bacon,
Maybe news,
Dawn til nightime,
Work past ten,
Tomorrow morning,
We do it again.
5:54 AM 4/28/2013 ©