A graveyard of dead trees
Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas
Squirrels scurry before winter strikes
As children play while others pass on bikes
A harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing
As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing
Children shrieking and screaming as they play
Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away
Memories start of when I was a kid
Only broken away by time an what it did
Sitting still only in question
Of who I am and to what is my impression
I laughed . . . I played here
I was happy unknown of fear
But then reality again breaks memory's connection
Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection
Now listen to what I have to say
For the wicked hide in the shadows of this day
You know nothing of what is of me
You may know the color of my eyes
But not of what they are capable to see
Now here, I've warned this upon you
For not every smile is ever true
Everything is not set in stone
You may say there is an answer
When nothing is completely known
Close your eyes, please understand
That what you may rely on is a blood-thirsty hand
Unknown of what they truly are
Watch think before you turn and talk
Someone so close to you can be so far
So remember before you go on and say
"But why would anyone do this to me anyway?"
Human nature can be full of evil and greed
Unwatched, A monster born within the shadows, full only of self pleasure and need.
I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective
But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise
And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection
Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion
Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found
Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.
She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings
All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew
And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred
Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?
All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..
Bound by the cities
Bound by another one's pity's
Expect a place to be
Or expect not want to be seen
And I'll take you as walking money
I see you as a pretty big funny
We and I, all have found our place
And you my dear, have barely found a face
Bound to me, and to my briefcase
I'll lend you a smile, but you're a secret disgrace
Find the comfort in another's eyes
But in reality, another girl will have them hooked on their clever disguise
Find a place to be
Or expect not want to be seen
Stuck in a rut
With no qualities, not knowing what
Who are you and what are you in this city?
Gone and withdrawn, alone and all shitty?
Expect a place to see
Or expect us to be mean
For you are bound
What goes around, comes around
You are stuck here, forever with me
With no voice, or founding plea
For you are bound
My slave, to paint my sacred ground
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.
the road to
self-fullfillment
is paved with
the thorns
that prick
the most tender
places in the
heart.
our yearning to
fill what it is
that we cannot
see is already
there, can
show to us,
a ghastly reflection
of who we are
in ways that
compel us to
project our
darkest side
onto others
in an attempt
to run from
our personal
power.
and all the while,
we smother the
quiet voice
that tells us
the things we
fear...
...that we are
human beings,
unique, and
individual...
...that the doors
to opportunity
for both denial
and a chance
for love are
always open...
...and that the
only real war
that matters
is the one we
choose to partake
in with ourselves...
...and that it is
through embracing
our very flaws,
and human frailties
that we arrive
at being what is
referred to as
'whole and
authentic' loving,
sentient beings.
6:35 PM 5/10/2013 ©
I really do want to believe it's all here,
That it's real, and that it is as great as everyone thinks it is,
Strong and indestructable,
Powerful with meaning and substance,
So that I too, exist here, but why?
These objects made of wood, steel and concrete, glass and fibers,
Clawing an scratching at my spirit day and night,
Begging for my touch to make them real,
And walls, walls, walls, that separate,
Real as this figment of my own imagination
Who I call myself, the existential being I believe I am,
The objects speak in tongues,
And languages unheard of
But understood with senses forbidden
And cast away from what man has deemed to be 'real',
And objects, material objects, jumping out at me,
Talking teapots, spoons and candlesticks,
From stories out of the depths of another's inner world,
Jumping into my world! How dare they come without knocking!
What is it they want? What are they asking?
"We are here just like you", they said,
"Why do you want to be here?"
So I replied, "Why do I want? Maybe I should just be!"
And so from then on I began to just be.
In case I should ever again need a shrink,
I shall first consult the kitchen sink.
4:21 AM 4/18/2013 ©
Abundance
I defy you to define
A word that’s so sublime
Abundance the word is
In defining it what gives?
Sounds like a lot of something
In reality its everything
It is internal, not external
More than just epidermal
Every inch of your body
It’s anything but shoddy
Like a tide, in and out
But within range no doubt
Abundance is a state of being
Certainly not a state of doing
There simply is abundance or not
Yours to stop or adopt
All abundance is total too
Its either in or not in you
Are your glasses half full or
Half empty and wanting more
Abundance is in everything
About your life; feeling
About life feel good today
Have nothing to be dismayed
A billion on earth with no food
Betting this don’t include you