Wednesday, May 25, 2011


A sound, a creak, the ticking of a clock.
Exhaustion takes over but respite is distant.
Delusions in the dark dominate perception,
And in hopes of rescue, the soul screams silently.


Light tries to dissuade flighty notions.
But there is only so much brightness in this world.
Their existence is translucent and vague,
And they are attracted to the horrid and degenerate.


The being cannot help but question your actions.
Narrow and self-indulgent are their minds.
Goons and foes, uncaring and withdrawn,
And you try to forgive and hope to forget.


Rush in then, simple times of content delirium.
Wish upon a wish that everyone was like you.
They do not persist, they do not plead,
And life is lived each day as it comes.

A pretense of an unloving existence.

Saturday, May 21, 2011


Unthinking, exhilarating, heavenly, rapturous,
and the state outside is of no importance.
Being selfish and unaccomodating is rewarding.
Doing what you want to do, for as long as you want.
Thrilling is the catch and the adventure.

Then you're on the road.

Shadows in your mind, a heavy stone tied to your center.
This is how it will be, a preview of what will ensue.
You don't know what you want but you do know,
you maybe probably most definitely don't want this.
So you sit back and engage in the happy masquerade.

Then you're at a traffic light.

Expect nothing from others, said another,
That's the only way you will ever avoid sorrow.
So you try and essay, and try again.
Ofcourse you expect, and hope there is life on mars.
And you are poor in abundance.

Then you're at the destination.

The reclusive bird flying low among the clouds,
commiserates the others that cannot soar at all.
But there is peace on the land, a content certainty.
The catch does reside in the earth and water.
So it ponders landing and grounding itself.

What you have might not stay with you forever.
Gratified unappreciative.
"If you love something, let it go"
                                   let them know.