Through the gloom I walk.
Deep in thought, my senses engage,
Distracting my occupied mind.
Smell of recent rain fills the chilled air,
Which bends around me, causing a shiver.
Street lamps illuminate the path I must take.
I hear the squelch of newly softened mud beneath my feet,
Mixed with the rustle of wet leaves.
The sidewalk shimmers like the stars,
Reflecting the incandescent guidance.
Above me crackle the leaves and branches,
Releasing their watery burdens as the wind blows.
I focus on a lamp.
The soaked surface refracts into a fixed firework,
Ringed by a rainbow.
My soles press the soil, not quite sinking,
As I return to my home away from home.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Burden
Physical ailment collides with emotional turmoil.
Inner defenses fail, outward aggression manifests.
Now is not the time.
Fury follows fury, an inferno inside,
All while losing my voice.
So much to say without a way to say it,
Or knowing which way is right.
A way to vent, take out the anger,
In a contest of skill and will.
Yet it too is ruined and abandoned.
Simmering, smoldering, I have to start singing.
Steel the nerves and calm the heart.
A comfort is found in the sounds of songs,
And the applause of an appreciative audience.
At last I crumple.
The morn brings a reprieve,
A respite from the winds of fortune.
This is a day to enjoy.
Hiding from the world in a small room,
Around a large table.
Surrounded by those who matter most,
Walled in from the assault,
Though nothing can prevent the exhaustion.
Thus begins another week, another chance to get things right.
I stretch my weary shoulders and put on the old yoke,
The one I wanted to handle.
Inner defenses fail, outward aggression manifests.
Now is not the time.
Fury follows fury, an inferno inside,
All while losing my voice.
So much to say without a way to say it,
Or knowing which way is right.
A way to vent, take out the anger,
In a contest of skill and will.
Yet it too is ruined and abandoned.
Simmering, smoldering, I have to start singing.
Steel the nerves and calm the heart.
A comfort is found in the sounds of songs,
And the applause of an appreciative audience.
At last I crumple.
The morn brings a reprieve,
A respite from the winds of fortune.
This is a day to enjoy.
Hiding from the world in a small room,
Around a large table.
Surrounded by those who matter most,
Walled in from the assault,
Though nothing can prevent the exhaustion.
Thus begins another week, another chance to get things right.
I stretch my weary shoulders and put on the old yoke,
The one I wanted to handle.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Proposed Purpose
Contemplating infinity.
A universe known and unknown.
Worlds surround the world,
And we float onward.
The astral veil
Covers the unseen.
Countless wanderers mirror our home.
Do they have a destination?
To what end soar the comets,
The suns, the galaxies?
Is their destiny simply to exist and expire?
Is there no greater purpose
Than to live and to die?
The infinitesimally small
Ponders its place in limitless space.
A fluke, a chance, pure circumstance.
This is what is said to be.
Live your life and be done with it.
Do we accept?
Or take exception?
Dare we dream that we are something more
Than the universe's bastard orphan?
Can it be that humanity
Is more than a category?
Did no one want us?
Did nothing intend us?
Or are we the unique piece of the universe?
I say: we are not an accident.
We are not an anomaly.
We were meant to be.
Children playing in a giant mansion,
Barely comprehending our inheritance.
Swinging on the chandelier of space,
Sliding down the bannister of gravity,
We await ownership
Of the house of God.
A universe known and unknown.
Worlds surround the world,
And we float onward.
The astral veil
Covers the unseen.
Countless wanderers mirror our home.
Do they have a destination?
To what end soar the comets,
The suns, the galaxies?
Is their destiny simply to exist and expire?
Is there no greater purpose
Than to live and to die?
The infinitesimally small
Ponders its place in limitless space.
A fluke, a chance, pure circumstance.
This is what is said to be.
Live your life and be done with it.
Do we accept?
Or take exception?
Dare we dream that we are something more
Than the universe's bastard orphan?
Can it be that humanity
Is more than a category?
Did no one want us?
Did nothing intend us?
Or are we the unique piece of the universe?
I say: we are not an accident.
We are not an anomaly.
We were meant to be.
Children playing in a giant mansion,
Barely comprehending our inheritance.
Swinging on the chandelier of space,
Sliding down the bannister of gravity,
We await ownership
Of the house of God.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Dreamt
Lose consciousness with me.
Close your eyes to reality,
And join me in entering the world of dream...
Stay with me awhile.
You don't need to leave.
Stay here, in my arms.
Don't remember it's not real.
In a dream you appear,
And my biggest fear,
Is that I'll wake up.
Don't fade away.
Fade away.
Away.
Horrific scene unfolds.
Impending danger.
He is coming.
Look for the signs, they're all around.
Trapped in your own comfort.
He is coming.
No warning can be given.
He approaches.
The fear grows.
Terror grips.
Death.
Carefree and limitless,
Ignoring the absurdity,
I fly.
Skimming trees,
Cutting clouds,
Flowing past friends.
As effortless as a feather falling,
I take up my true calling.
Into the sky.
A feeling of ecstasy.
Everything goes right.
A vague yet powerful happiness,
Hopefully eternal.
One could live like this forever.
The morning pierces the veil.
Clinging to the joy, it sifts like sand through fingers.
It is gone.
Good morning.
Welcome back to the world.
Close your eyes to reality,
And join me in entering the world of dream...
Stay with me awhile.
You don't need to leave.
Stay here, in my arms.
Don't remember it's not real.
In a dream you appear,
And my biggest fear,
Is that I'll wake up.
Don't fade away.
Fade away.
Away.
Horrific scene unfolds.
Impending danger.
He is coming.
Look for the signs, they're all around.
Trapped in your own comfort.
He is coming.
No warning can be given.
He approaches.
The fear grows.
Terror grips.
Death.
Carefree and limitless,
Ignoring the absurdity,
I fly.
Skimming trees,
Cutting clouds,
Flowing past friends.
As effortless as a feather falling,
I take up my true calling.
Into the sky.
A feeling of ecstasy.
Everything goes right.
A vague yet powerful happiness,
Hopefully eternal.
One could live like this forever.
The morning pierces the veil.
Clinging to the joy, it sifts like sand through fingers.
It is gone.
Good morning.
Welcome back to the world.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
The Music
Softly sweeping over the room
Conjuring a haze that envelops
Lulled to calmness
A piercing jolt, a dissonance
Puncturing the harmony
Awaken the senses
Holding sway over a beleaguered mind
Replacing all else
One melody leads to another
And a day unfolds
Consciousness unravels
Relaxed or attentive
Passive or engaged
The ears govern
Crossing the Styx with an aural ferryman
Leisurely sailing on notes of grace
Swiftly the songs invade
The walls crumbled
The gates open
My world welcomes you
Long may you reign
Conjuring a haze that envelops
Lulled to calmness
A piercing jolt, a dissonance
Puncturing the harmony
Awaken the senses
Holding sway over a beleaguered mind
Replacing all else
One melody leads to another
And a day unfolds
Consciousness unravels
Relaxed or attentive
Passive or engaged
The ears govern
Crossing the Styx with an aural ferryman
Leisurely sailing on notes of grace
Swiftly the songs invade
The walls crumbled
The gates open
My world welcomes you
Long may you reign
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Thinking of You
Get out of my head;
Falser words were never left unspoken.
A face I can't replace
Confines my mind.
How can I miss you if you won't go away?
Separation is only physical.
It's not a problem, but there's no solution.
Try to salve a troubled mind.
Holding on to hopes,
Always staying hopeless.
You probably don't feel the same.
Or do you?
Wondering about wondering.
Why not?
It won't make a difference.
Just the same stable instability.
But enough about me.
How about you?
Perhaps we'll meet in a daydream.
I'll see you there,
Just like every day.
Falser words were never left unspoken.
A face I can't replace
Confines my mind.
How can I miss you if you won't go away?
Separation is only physical.
It's not a problem, but there's no solution.
Try to salve a troubled mind.
Holding on to hopes,
Always staying hopeless.
You probably don't feel the same.
Or do you?
Wondering about wondering.
Why not?
It won't make a difference.
Just the same stable instability.
But enough about me.
How about you?
Perhaps we'll meet in a daydream.
I'll see you there,
Just like every day.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Anything
I could write anything.
Gods and men,
Truths and morals,
Principle, parable, and prophecy.
Worlds unknown, unseen, unheard.
Abstractions of abstractions,
Metaphysical metaphors.
I could write anything.
Conquests and wars,
Heroes fallen, kings slain,
History written and rewritten,
Only remembered by the victors.
Blood spilled in fields, forests, deserts,
Seeds of destruction sewn beyond measure.
I could write anything.
Desire and longing,
Old adages of romance,
Classic themes of repeated failures.
Loves seen and felt,
Hearts broken and filled.
The sting of a rose's thorn.
I could write anything.
A single day,
Exploration of simplicity,
Recollection of images,
Words said or paraphrased.
Observations,
Dissertations.
I could write anything.
Music and harmony,
Rhyme and rhythm,
Encompassing an aural atmosphere.
Taste, genre, theme.
The notes of strings and souls.
Passion of the masses.
I could write anything.
I wrote this.
Gods and men,
Truths and morals,
Principle, parable, and prophecy.
Worlds unknown, unseen, unheard.
Abstractions of abstractions,
Metaphysical metaphors.
I could write anything.
Conquests and wars,
Heroes fallen, kings slain,
History written and rewritten,
Only remembered by the victors.
Blood spilled in fields, forests, deserts,
Seeds of destruction sewn beyond measure.
I could write anything.
Desire and longing,
Old adages of romance,
Classic themes of repeated failures.
Loves seen and felt,
Hearts broken and filled.
The sting of a rose's thorn.
I could write anything.
A single day,
Exploration of simplicity,
Recollection of images,
Words said or paraphrased.
Observations,
Dissertations.
I could write anything.
Music and harmony,
Rhyme and rhythm,
Encompassing an aural atmosphere.
Taste, genre, theme.
The notes of strings and souls.
Passion of the masses.
I could write anything.
I wrote this.
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