Contained by an unstoppable force of reason
Elder of the ages at your fingertips
You become entangled within yourself
Your mind an intellectual battleground
Duality may develop and stew within you
One angel to put a final push
By the age of 30 your death was signed
Not through the two previous to I
But because it was sacred to your God
Born to you to force you to change
Your angel there the whole time
And now who thought you sacred
Has discovered your mortality
In my nature I deny the killing of thee
But know that I know and that i know
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
A Path
Cold metal, my skin hit by autumn rains,
Warrior in stature but lacking his emptiness,
My weapons are unseen being those of the mind,
But the trap of me damages most of all,
Yet it is reserved for those who care most.
I am a burden that no one should have,
Weight undeserved upon the pack,
Tickling and chatter mask my core,
Entrenched between expectation and reality,
And all they see is supposed growth.
Am I a plant to be watered and harvested,
Or simply being tricked out of nature,
Do I pose a threat to the beliefs of others,
In possession of something unattainable,
Should I self orient or be directed by not I?
Warrior in stature but lacking his emptiness,
My weapons are unseen being those of the mind,
But the trap of me damages most of all,
Yet it is reserved for those who care most.
I am a burden that no one should have,
Weight undeserved upon the pack,
Tickling and chatter mask my core,
Entrenched between expectation and reality,
And all they see is supposed growth.
Am I a plant to be watered and harvested,
Or simply being tricked out of nature,
Do I pose a threat to the beliefs of others,
In possession of something unattainable,
Should I self orient or be directed by not I?
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Babe
i intentionally subconsciously miss my cue,
babe, i love you more than life itself,
because i have never felt more alive!
honey, my sweet little lamb, my dear,
Dost thou have reciprocal love for me?
I feel it everyday, my sweet Teresa!
Every moment I am without you,
I wish you were here
You give my life happiness,
of the kind i've never felt......
you have drawn the strength from me
Strength that i knew i had, but never gave
My dear little lamb,
You are so simple and easy
but yet, you are complex and intriguing
In almost tears, i wish i can just be with you
my dearest sweet teresa, if you only knew
the love i have in store for you!
My babe,
babe, i love you more than life itself,
because i have never felt more alive!
honey, my sweet little lamb, my dear,
Dost thou have reciprocal love for me?
I feel it everyday, my sweet Teresa!
Every moment I am without you,
I wish you were here
You give my life happiness,
of the kind i've never felt......
you have drawn the strength from me
Strength that i knew i had, but never gave
My dear little lamb,
You are so simple and easy
but yet, you are complex and intriguing
In almost tears, i wish i can just be with you
my dearest sweet teresa, if you only knew
the love i have in store for you!
My babe,
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
My Dear Little Lamb
My dear little lamb why do you graze where you do?
The hill you feed on is one of inherent contradiction.
Is that grass neutritious for you? Keeps you grounded?
I can't eat that grass my dear little lamb for its poison.
My dear little lamb why do you migrate the way you do?
Your hill is steep and unforgiving, its no home for you.
Do you need to keep a connexion with ridged things, dear?
The cliffs will certainly kill me shall I fall off your hill.
My dear little lamb why do you speak that tone as you do?
Its alienating and oppressive, although your not aware.
Does it keep you from Being vulnerable as you wish to be?
There can be no love between us if this persists always.
My dear little lamb can we meet in the valley sometime?
The hills are preventing us from blossoming beautifully.
We both belong to death, so why can't we enjoy life?
And have this short time to feel what it is to be.
The hill you feed on is one of inherent contradiction.
Is that grass neutritious for you? Keeps you grounded?
I can't eat that grass my dear little lamb for its poison.
My dear little lamb why do you migrate the way you do?
Your hill is steep and unforgiving, its no home for you.
Do you need to keep a connexion with ridged things, dear?
The cliffs will certainly kill me shall I fall off your hill.
My dear little lamb why do you speak that tone as you do?
Its alienating and oppressive, although your not aware.
Does it keep you from Being vulnerable as you wish to be?
There can be no love between us if this persists always.
My dear little lamb can we meet in the valley sometime?
The hills are preventing us from blossoming beautifully.
We both belong to death, so why can't we enjoy life?
And have this short time to feel what it is to be.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
The Hallways
I'm walking ever so carefully down a fully loaded hallway
Dreams of moon drippings slipping through my toes like mud
The diamond that's stuck in my eye scratches a bit but don't
I can feel every step I take driving nails deeper and deeper in
And the core of my being osculating like a yolk inside an egg
It feels like I stub a different toe with the next step, but not
I'm lost in these hallways, mutilating myself unintentionally
My existence is within these walls, confined and weeping daily
Deeper in I withdraw, whirling inside myself to attempt an escape
To retreat from the demons of this life that provoke me deeper
I should have stuck to my roots, my place of strength, my home
Yet here I am, springing down the depths of an impossible reality
Its dark, but I only realize this through my memories of cartoon life
My yolk is leaking out a bit as I lose my mind through dreams
Taking over my being, they prevent my circadian from self actualization
With the moon as my only stability, it drives me like a machine
This is what I am subject too? this cannot be what life is meant to be
What existence is, and if it is, then I want no part of this life
A ray of light blinds me, it burns as I havn't seen light in years
Creaking of a enormous door, materialized while I least expect it
She pushes it in, provoking me to step out, and I am willing
My strength through this life is now summoned from my soul to act
Trials of integrity, like adrenaline, boosts my natural virgin reality
To have this drawn from me, the feeling unreal, is to love
Dreams of moon drippings slipping through my toes like mud
The diamond that's stuck in my eye scratches a bit but don't
I can feel every step I take driving nails deeper and deeper in
And the core of my being osculating like a yolk inside an egg
It feels like I stub a different toe with the next step, but not
I'm lost in these hallways, mutilating myself unintentionally
My existence is within these walls, confined and weeping daily
Deeper in I withdraw, whirling inside myself to attempt an escape
To retreat from the demons of this life that provoke me deeper
I should have stuck to my roots, my place of strength, my home
Yet here I am, springing down the depths of an impossible reality
Its dark, but I only realize this through my memories of cartoon life
My yolk is leaking out a bit as I lose my mind through dreams
Taking over my being, they prevent my circadian from self actualization
With the moon as my only stability, it drives me like a machine
This is what I am subject too? this cannot be what life is meant to be
What existence is, and if it is, then I want no part of this life
A ray of light blinds me, it burns as I havn't seen light in years
Creaking of a enormous door, materialized while I least expect it
She pushes it in, provoking me to step out, and I am willing
My strength through this life is now summoned from my soul to act
Trials of integrity, like adrenaline, boosts my natural virgin reality
To have this drawn from me, the feeling unreal, is to love
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Thoughts from 8/7/11
It was the kind of day where you stub the same toe what seems like a hundred times. I had a cold chill that i couldnt shake off and a blue spot on my heart. Sitting alone for 44.4 minutes, i contemplated the value of modern existence. I held my breathe to prevent my weeping from the implications of what it ment for my own life. "Humans are not supposed to live this way." I say to myself. The constant reinforcement and following beating for the same action. Leaving me in a perpetual state of confusion, depressed about how life is these days. To what higher level can i attain? To what level am i imagining this? To what extent do i just want a more purposeful life to be the norm? Crying silently to myself, aided only by Floyd, I drift through thoughts and conclude that the only way to be happy is to love. For love is the great distracter of everything else that is shitty in this world.
Monday, June 13, 2011
6/13/11
I am a nothing. Hollow as decayed tree. Spongy insides that crumble. Diseased past formal recognition. I am broken inside. I am not stable.
Whisking winds dribble past my frame and wash away all that's left. Particles of who I once was set adrift on the cold northern winds that once gave me the only comfort I knew. The only truth that can be true, awareness of self existence. Breezes come and go, tearing part by part the matter I was.
To bleed is beautiful. Liquid red velvet drips. Scarlet life drains out. I used to cut. I needed to feel. Raging river of heme. Pouring out my tears.
The release attained by self mutilation cannot be sustained or achieved by anything else. Once you grip the emotion you never let it go. The layers of self created by letting can plague you by resurfacing. Yet its poison because you never quite get what you need from it, forcing you to cut again. and again.
To trigger uncontrolled again. Thy tears yet fall. No cure set stable. Thoughts can save me. Thoughts can kill me. Elegant despair refrained actions. I cannot smile alone.
Whisking winds dribble past my frame and wash away all that's left. Particles of who I once was set adrift on the cold northern winds that once gave me the only comfort I knew. The only truth that can be true, awareness of self existence. Breezes come and go, tearing part by part the matter I was.
To bleed is beautiful. Liquid red velvet drips. Scarlet life drains out. I used to cut. I needed to feel. Raging river of heme. Pouring out my tears.
The release attained by self mutilation cannot be sustained or achieved by anything else. Once you grip the emotion you never let it go. The layers of self created by letting can plague you by resurfacing. Yet its poison because you never quite get what you need from it, forcing you to cut again. and again.
To trigger uncontrolled again. Thy tears yet fall. No cure set stable. Thoughts can save me. Thoughts can kill me. Elegant despair refrained actions. I cannot smile alone.
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