It's as though I'm not myself when the music starts to sound,
and the slow swing dance bowls over all my doubts -mere child's play!
I'm in lockstep with myself, and yet I'm far from found.
I am smarter - I am weaker - and self-interest burns brighter;
it's a way to preserve things that make my world's sharp edges lighter.
And I wear cheap two-faced masks that tear my worried face asunder,
when the movement of the beat gets lost I stumble, slip, and blunder.
Look on me from just one side, I'll hide all my faults.
And I wonder what would happen if the flimsy masks fell off?
Acting's not my forté: I'd rather live my farce
than affect my second face and watch it crumble, wither, bust.
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
‘I saw you sitting there, sorry for staring, But your eyes just seemed to call to me So I guess I’m wondering… Would you like some company?’
Demon silk is spat upon my tongue
From glands of Mammon, set to
Wrapping it in readiness
While charm is carved into my flesh
She is snared, defenseless
In a crescent web of teeth
And then I speak...
‘I’d like nothing more,’ I say. ‘Sit with me. What is your name?’
A/N: A piece that was influenced from Madding and his style of poetry.
Doves
Sinewous arms arched forward
posturing glide through clovers
They bask in the mid-summer sun
in its warmth; plaid eternal flame
in its eyes; for they see the shame
The same that we caress a curse
being bound to earth's nest.
How they flutter in passion
winged emblems of hope
A flight to salvation
let their story be told!
run
did you know that behind us
is death
and life running forward
is just a speck
of the world as a whole
insignificant lull
as the body surrenders itself to the thrall
to be happily ever after
disobey the terrible master
get freedom from
logic's gun
and run
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I had known her for only a little while,
tucked away from the world on a dazzling smile,
and I wondered for some time about her
casual warmth and foreign accent
and way with words, her temper
and oddly enough, her fragility
So when we met, oddly enough, in front of an ice-cream shop,
and she was alone on the boardwalk, and so was I,
all the world begged for me to say
anything, but the moment passed away,
leaving a jumbled, scarred mess
of most of what I'd left behind
I'll be gone from this someday,
so far removed the paintings on the wall shall mourn
my passing--all of them stand only here for
me: she shall die slowly, surely and I will march
so surely to infamy and with a dash of overloaded velocity,
marching backward from the memory where the one I ever-loved is buried
How foolish then is fortune's folly
that saves me from my only calling,
saves me there from drowning,
saves me when I've promised not to live,
drags me back to shore and boardwalk
to confront her memory
I say to her, "I'm sorry,
My soul will ever wander now
To please my stillborn memories
Of all we ever were, and all we'll ever be
And if you find it in your heart,
You must forgive me."
steady, steady that grip
hold flat your hands
when your vocabulary flips
you can spew a lot of vulgar
language when it's over
like a drizzle in november
let words flow cold
before you hold the notion told
of 'what has not been done before'
relax, relax those taut muscles
before your finger joints tussles
the paper that you'll crumple,
shrivel, to a ball of mass
for what time is lost
dry ink will keep intact
so take a, take a pinch of salt
the worry is your own
the sheet is not at fault
for the thoughts that you'll never be
crashing right in front of me
your writing inexorably
suffers while your letters plead
"passion doesn't grow on trees"
so fill the, fill the space with character
like a promise that you'll cherish her
and hold high your head
before you even know it
the lines have all been said.
Oh, come Diana! Let me see you. You are beaming at the peak of purple skies, Whilst leaking splendor spent on evenings Fit for dreaming of a Heaven Not worth fleeing, finally! So, come, Diana! Let me feel you, I am begging. Tie the tides off for the night. The sun is looming, doomed to rise, And I am soaking in your light, My spirits high, oh, finally! My spirits high.
Different Worlds
Every time we chance to meet, I gaze at you
hoping for the briefest of glances
praying for the slightest confirmation
that you know I exist.
but it never comes.
You keep on walking
surrounded by your friends
while I keep gazing forlornly, my hopes dashed
shrouded in sadness
Other times we talk
but the conversation never goes beyond the cursory mundane topics.
To you, they are unimportant. Merely words exchanged with another,
but I gather every word
saving and savoring every precious moment.
It was too obvious, but I was too blind
to see that we were from different worlds.
When we speak, I savor
time and time again, I will myself to speak
if for nothing else but to hear your reply
to extend the conversation in any way possible.
Time and time again, opportunities float by
opportunities for me to confess
chances for me to say to you
what I meant to say all along
but time and time again, I back out
My courage fails me, my respect for you limits me
the trust I cherish binds my actions.
and now it is too late.
As I watch, HE drives you away.
I knew I should have confessed
Now I'm left with but bitter regrets,
pieces of hopes and dreams
of a future that will never be.
I f I said "I love you"
a hundred-thousand times in my heart
over and over, on and on
would you even notice?
At the pool he cheers you on
while I sit in the bleachers
Everyone focuses on you or him.
All eyes follow you, but IU have mine closed
as I pray silently, willing you onwards towards the finish line.
At the end, when he helps you out of the pool,
he beams with pleasure
as if he had just won the competition.
He hands you a towel, then goes and greets your fans.
No one notices me as I leave the pool
except for the janitor, who exchanges a word of greeting.
He knew that I had been at the pool, in the same spot on the bleachers,
many, many times before.
It's been said that life is unfair
that fortune favors fools.
The first is true - life is cruel.
but fortune has yet to look to me.
when life turns sour, you turn to him.
and I am left, forgotten, on the sidelines.
Heaven knows I do too much
for unreciprocated love
...and by every standard out there
I qualify as a fool
but even fortune has forgotten me.
Time and time again, I console myself
"Different worlds," I try to say,
but "I love you" always comes out in its stead.
No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try
I know we are from different worlds.
Different places, separated by the inconceivably vast universe
distances that will remain
As you get into the car, still flushed with your success
clutching yet another medal to your heart
beaming with pride.
He hurries you along, He drives you away
his mind already intently concentrating on how he will celebrate
As the car disappears in a cloud of dust,
I look away sadly. Things for me will never change.
But for you, time will pass. Things will change
but we will never meet.
[Not sure how 'legal'-ish this is, but this song's been running through my head. And, surprisingly to me, it's completely different from the lyrics.] Remind me [credit: Royksopp]
Thinking of the time,
a phone was sounding clearly-
the summer came and fled,
a ring too late to hear me-
walk through your normal day,
nature swooning sweetly-
and anywhere I go,
she comes to remind me-
I can't escape the words,
the day becomes melody-
Somewhere better, we
are simply talking lightly-
the table is a sea,
our words drift out so slowly-
Unwilling to depart you,
the life I live reminds me
the thought of brittle hands
held to my own securely-
the day would come to dazzle,
the night would come to find me-
Look to your darkest fears,
my smile pokes out surely-
were desperate to be,
the little things remind me
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
If I asked you to tell me the truth
Could you?
If I wanted you to lie to me
Would you?
Our lives were intertwined
Like the ivy that reached towards the sky
But our hearts were what kept us apart
Our Fear is what wore us down
And now I lay here
Wondering how I lost my Crown
You were my Queen
And I your King
All it took was a simple look
And we were not meant to be
So before I go
Please hear me out
For this last time
I can not comprehend
What I have done
But I ask for forgiveness
In this falling Sun
For I might not live to tell the tale
favorite's play
everyone passed by a little dirt town
and shovels dug into the ground
with walls to the sides and quick to the hide
went someone, someone, then fell down
favorite's play is everyone's fault
but nobody wants to take the blame
nobody plays himself in rain
yet everyone's laziness made them halt
and
somebody's look stopped everybody cold
and the winter made somebody look old
but the fault was denied and the facts supplied
and it made everyone feel quite bold
nobody wants to see justice done
but everybody wants fun fun fun
somebody doesn't like everyone's tone
everybody's going straight home
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
A/N: There's a high chance that this could be my last entry here in the PRC so with that said...
Subsoil
Of mocassin shoes and mosaic blues
I chant this psalm of plebian upbringing
There were days, better days
when cinammon cement basked upon the land
Gaea, Panacea -- Mother Earth had her plans
But now she weeps, "The time has passed and I can not see what once was!"
and her aching is ever resounding
for all we've left are ceramic fossils -
vogue antiques and prehistoric clumps
in a civilized, mechanised era
We have deserted
the sweet nectars of botanic lush
the mighty roars of tectonic plates
Oh yes, we are buried as well!
Deeper than the shale beneath our rubber shoes
squirming in our renounced soil...
time travel is like an exploding nuclear warhead.
The heavy blue bricks of time released me from between them like melting mortar
and blindly sent me spiraling through a starry landscape of black eternity
as I swerved away from the year I was formerly bound.
I heard the ticking of a thousand and one clocks
as they surrounded me in the ebb of time
and threw me between millennia like how an outfielder throws a baseball
3.
through time, where plated men with ponytails
wielded thin blades filled with the cold honor of past generations.
The silver sound of the swiftly speeding sword strikes
took a piercing physical form as the lonely cry of death
reverberated from the pair of scuffling feet inches away
and his green mask with the image of a six-legged dragon
flung from his head into the damp red grass.
The warrior’s dying face lost its firm composure
and released a single tear, containing every aspiration and dream
his mind ever held. The black-clad men gave me a menacing glance,
and my mind’s timepiece told me to jump carefully because as I jumped
5.
I began to travel again, and noticed a transparent hovercar
a few feet above my head which carried a green-skinned being
with suction cup toes and tulip-shaped fingers.
The fleshy eye protruding from a metal stalk on the right side of its cheek
spotted me and the floating vehicle moved downward.
A hint of the world’s fleeting humanity skittered by my feet
as an old newspaper rolled by like a forgotten tumbleweed
and the pink recesses of my unique brain yelled at me
that any time had to be better.
I looked into a trio of smiling eyes with parasitic teeth
and wholeheartedly trusted my new instincts as I went back home.
2.
into a primordial world of freshly born green leaves
which held a reptilian secret. The bristling of movement
from scaly limbs no human had ever brushed against
sent a red lightning bolt of danger through my back,
as the high pitched clattering of unfamiliar red and brown birds
caused me to notice the ridged mouth of rotting jagged teeth
directly behind me. I held my breath and traveled
4.
into the screeching arc of military fire
the sounds of war echoed throughout the cratered Afghanistan desert.
The sand beneath the soles of my time-tattered shoes trembled
As I fell through the grainy, stick-covered entrance into a pit
full of men who wore brown burlap bags over their bodies.
One grabbed a gray gun with exposed wires
and pointed it at me, but I refused to die as
0.
I noticed the cloudy haze of the linearity of life had vanished
and the constraining shackles of time had been banished.
“The procedure was successful,” said the smiling scientist, as
my unbound eyes flung open and my new brain stretched.
Depression.
Reality hits like an anvil. See
black figures in the distance, screaming.
Look at your watch and the time won't move,
the core is rotten, the oil slicks smooth.
Watch behind bars you're stuck creating
as everything oozes decrepit, raving,
and all you feel is a vague sense of wrongness
a death in the family happens unnoticed
affects the reality seen through the curtains;
as long as they're closed there's no way to see it
as long as you're closed there's no way to feel it
reality's myth is a nice way to bear it
you can keep it all hidden for a very long time ...
Private Mod Note
():
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
my mouth is full of winsome lies -
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
The seasons only meet in passing Furtive glances over shoulders Smoldering looks and frozen faces. A mothers weeping, her hesitation In handing off the fruits of her labour To three uncertain strangers. Over time they flourish, Blooming. Growing into something she’d be proud of. Her memories fade in every shade Of red and yellow, orange and gold. Applying ice and frost to hide Another ring of aging. Once a year they visit home, But colder now, with snowy eyes And families of their own.
The Linguistic Dimension is where stories are told
and where crafted lies unfold.
It would be excessive to reduce fiction to a mere fable,
but storytelling is a specular diamond
no analyst can neglect,
although the analyst is not who enjoys literature:
you are. It is your enjoyment
which makes the existence of fiction possible.
An analyst chases their meager meaning of language,
hunched over a tattered book holding a red highlighter,
determined to find an exploitable extract of the blood
inside the author’s immortal words,
while believing that the events of the written word
transpire like clockwork
and change the red of passion
to the black of rusted watches,
as though words are bound by
the copper manacles of their author
when the gold of his words is unconstrained.
A tale should cause an explosion
of warm, fuzzy bubbles which seek
an uninked page in your memory to burst upon.
No story only fulfills a function; no poem
transpires unseen; no plot is a fallacious complementarity;
no verse is a simple signaling of the location of objects;
no part of creativity follows the
“x² + px is perhaps not absolutely equal to q”
reasoning of literary mathematicians.
A book is bound in only two ways:
by its spine and by your imagination.
I'm a fan of poetry but honestly i only like it if it rhymes. My spelling isn't to great either (i dont really care) so please bare with that. Its not as bad as that might lead one to think.
This was a poem written by myself when a coworker told me to write about summer storms. Here is my poem about summer storms. I hope you like it.
Summer Storm's
Have you ever been awaken in the middle of the night?
To hear what sounds like the strangest of fights
Off in the distance loud bangs and booms
You look out your window and see nothing but gloom
You realize what it is, your hearts beating so fast
You’re praying to the lord for this storm to pass
It’s pouring rain outside and your soaking wet
It isn’t from the rain, it’s from the sweat
With flashes of lightning and the loudest of sounds
You now see something twirling around
Down the street you see things flying
All of a sudden you hear kids crying
Thinking out loud you don’t know what to do
Looking at the world with the newest of views
You see your life flash by your eyes
Its about to end with little surprise
The last thing on your mind is why it’s happening to you
You can’t come up with anything, not even a clue
You wish you could live for a couple more days
Because you can change the world in so many ways
If you could make just one more dream come true
Then you should wish for everyone to pull through
Every now and then a storm like this comes about
For this I’m sure of, without a doubt
How many storms have already come you ask
That’s a simple question, let’s look at the past
The meteor, the plague, aids, and cancer
How many more storms will come, no one knows the answer
The world need a reset, the plans have changed
Why has everyone become so deranged?
With this last question I bring to you
If you could start all over what would you do?
To have your life back with perfection and bliss
To talk to your family and to give them a kiss
It’s the little things in life that matter
Forget all the nonsense and all the chatter
Focus on what’s important to you
Now that you’re awake you know what to do
Do what’s right, help as many as you can
Just don’t make the same mistakes again.
All that remains
Of your past
And clean the stains
On your dirty
Reputation.
I hope you have
Learned the lesson.
Live again
Your second chance,
Use it well
'Cos it's the last.
You've been bad:
Redeem yourself.
Are you wiser?
Time will tell.
It's as though I'm not myself when the music starts to sound,
and the slow swing dance bowls over all my doubts -mere child's play!
I'm in lockstep with myself, and yet I'm far from found.
I am smarter - I am weaker - and self-interest burns brighter;
it's a way to preserve things that make my world's sharp edges lighter.
And I wear cheap two-faced masks that tear my worried face asunder,
when the movement of the beat gets lost I stumble, slip, and blunder.
Look on me from just one side, I'll hide all my faults.
And I wonder what would happen if the flimsy masks fell off?
Acting's not my forté: I'd rather live my farce
than affect my second face and watch it crumble, wither, bust.
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
‘I saw you sitting there, sorry for staring,
But your eyes just seemed to call to me
So I guess I’m wondering…
Would you like some company?’
Demon silk is spat upon my tongue
From glands of Mammon, set to
Wrapping it in readiness
While charm is carved into my flesh
She is snared, defenseless
In a crescent web of teeth
And then I speak...
‘I’d like nothing more,’ I say.
‘Sit with me. What is your name?’
Doves
Sinewous arms arched forward
posturing glide through clovers
They bask in the mid-summer sun
in its warmth; plaid eternal flame
in its eyes; for they see the shame
The same that we caress
a curse
being bound to earth's nest.
How they flutter in passion
winged emblems of hope
A flight to salvation
let their story be told!
Pan,
The horned seducer,
Strolled about playing the pipes,
With mule-eared Midas in his wake,
From whom a golden yawn escaped.
And Pan agreed, the days were dull,
But not the nights...
Pen in hand.
Writing furiously.
Sweat drips down the brow.
Slowly, but then quickly.
Then I realize.
I'm posting in a forum.
did you know that behind us
is death
and life running forward
is just a speck
of the world as a whole
insignificant lull
as the body surrenders itself to the thrall
to be happily ever after
disobey the terrible master
get freedom from
logic's gun
and run
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
I had known her for only a little while,
tucked away from the world on a dazzling smile,
and I wondered for some time about her
casual warmth and foreign accent
and way with words, her temper
and oddly enough, her fragility
So when we met, oddly enough, in front of an ice-cream shop,
and she was alone on the boardwalk, and so was I,
all the world begged for me to say
anything, but the moment passed away,
leaving a jumbled, scarred mess
of most of what I'd left behind
I'll be gone from this someday,
so far removed the paintings on the wall shall mourn
my passing--all of them stand only here for
me: she shall die slowly, surely and I will march
so surely to infamy and with a dash of overloaded velocity,
marching backward from the memory where the one I ever-loved is buried
How foolish then is fortune's folly
that saves me from my only calling,
saves me there from drowning,
saves me when I've promised not to live,
drags me back to shore and boardwalk
to confront her memory
I say to her, "I'm sorry,
My soul will ever wander now
To please my stillborn memories
Of all we ever were, and all we'll ever be
And if you find it in your heart,
You must forgive me."
Forgive me.
steady, steady that grip
hold flat your hands
when your vocabulary flips
you can spew a lot of vulgar
language when it's over
like a drizzle in november
let words flow cold
before you hold the notion told
of 'what has not been done before'
relax, relax those taut muscles
before your finger joints tussles
the paper that you'll crumple,
shrivel, to a ball of mass
for what time is lost
dry ink will keep intact
so take a, take a pinch of salt
the worry is your own
the sheet is not at fault
for the thoughts that you'll never be
crashing right in front of me
your writing inexorably
suffers while your letters plead
"passion doesn't grow on trees"
so fill the, fill the space with character
like a promise that you'll cherish her
and hold high your head
before you even know it
the lines have all been said.
Winner of the First and Fourth Double Dare Single Elimination Contests
2009 July CCL: COMING THIS JULY
2008 December CCL: The Mechinations of Fate
Double Dare to Design: The 5th Single Elimination Contest
Double Dare That Designer: The 2nd Single Elimination Contest
Oh, come Diana! Let me see you.
You are beaming at the peak of purple skies,
Whilst leaking splendor spent on evenings
Fit for dreaming of a Heaven
Not worth fleeing, finally!
So, come, Diana! Let me feel you,
I am begging.
Tie the tides off for the night.
The sun is looming, doomed to rise,
And I am soaking in your light,
My spirits high, oh, finally!
My spirits high.
Different Worlds
Every time we chance to meet, I gaze at you
hoping for the briefest of glances
praying for the slightest confirmation
that you know I exist.
but it never comes.
You keep on walking
surrounded by your friends
while I keep gazing forlornly, my hopes dashed
shrouded in sadness
Other times we talk
but the conversation never goes beyond the cursory mundane topics.
To you, they are unimportant. Merely words exchanged with another,
but I gather every word
saving and savoring every precious moment.
It was too obvious, but I was too blind
to see that we were from different worlds.
When we speak, I savor
time and time again, I will myself to speak
if for nothing else but to hear your reply
to extend the conversation in any way possible.
Time and time again, opportunities float by
opportunities for me to confess
chances for me to say to you
what I meant to say all along
but time and time again, I back out
My courage fails me, my respect for you limits me
the trust I cherish binds my actions.
and now it is too late.
As I watch, HE drives you away.
I knew I should have confessed
Now I'm left with but bitter regrets,
pieces of hopes and dreams
of a future that will never be.
I f I said "I love you"
a hundred-thousand times in my heart
over and over, on and on
would you even notice?
At the pool he cheers you on
while I sit in the bleachers
Everyone focuses on you or him.
All eyes follow you, but IU have mine closed
as I pray silently, willing you onwards towards the finish line.
At the end, when he helps you out of the pool,
he beams with pleasure
as if he had just won the competition.
He hands you a towel, then goes and greets your fans.
No one notices me as I leave the pool
except for the janitor, who exchanges a word of greeting.
He knew that I had been at the pool, in the same spot on the bleachers,
many, many times before.
It's been said that life is unfair
that fortune favors fools.
The first is true - life is cruel.
but fortune has yet to look to me.
when life turns sour, you turn to him.
and I am left, forgotten, on the sidelines.
Heaven knows I do too much
for unreciprocated love
...and by every standard out there
I qualify as a fool
but even fortune has forgotten me.
Time and time again, I console myself
"Different worlds," I try to say,
but "I love you" always comes out in its stead.
No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try
I know we are from different worlds.
Different places, separated by the inconceivably vast universe
distances that will remain
As you get into the car, still flushed with your success
clutching yet another medal to your heart
beaming with pride.
He hurries you along, He drives you away
his mind already intently concentrating on how he will celebrate
As the car disappears in a cloud of dust,
I look away sadly. Things for me will never change.
But for you, time will pass. Things will change
but we will never meet.
Twitter
--
Commander:
GBWKarador Infinite Combo
UBWZur the Random Enchanter
RWGisela (Book of Revelations Theme)
Remind me [credit: Royksopp]
Thinking of the time,
a phone was sounding clearly-
the summer came and fled,
a ring too late to hear me-
walk through your normal day,
nature swooning sweetly-
and anywhere I go,
she comes to remind me-
I can't escape the words,
the day becomes melody-
Somewhere better, we
are simply talking lightly-
the table is a sea,
our words drift out so slowly-
Unwilling to depart you,
the life I live reminds me
the thought of brittle hands
held to my own securely-
the day would come to dazzle,
the night would come to find me-
Look to your darkest fears,
my smile pokes out surely-
were desperate to be,
the little things remind me
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
The serpent biting its own tail
Smiles as it swallows, saying,
‘I am the halo of the world
And any thief is wise to know
That time is not worth taking.
Off you go!’
If I asked you to tell me the truth
Could you?
If I wanted you to lie to me
Would you?
Our lives were intertwined
Like the ivy that reached towards the sky
But our hearts were what kept us apart
Our Fear is what wore us down
And now I lay here
Wondering how I lost my Crown
You were my Queen
And I your King
All it took was a simple look
And we were not meant to be
So before I go
Please hear me out
For this last time
I can not comprehend
What I have done
But I ask for forgiveness
In this falling Sun
For I might not live to tell the tale
That I let my Addictions Prevail...
everyone passed by a little dirt town
and shovels dug into the ground
with walls to the sides and quick to the hide
went someone, someone, then fell down
favorite's play is everyone's fault
but nobody wants to take the blame
nobody plays himself in rain
yet everyone's laziness made them halt
and
somebody's look stopped everybody cold
and the winter made somebody look old
but the fault was denied and the facts supplied
and it made everyone feel quite bold
nobody wants to see justice done
but everybody wants fun fun fun
somebody doesn't like everyone's tone
everybody's going straight home
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
Subsoil
Of mocassin shoes and mosaic blues
I chant this psalm of plebian upbringing
There were days, better days
when cinammon cement basked upon the land
Gaea, Panacea -- Mother Earth had her plans
But now she weeps,
"The time has passed and I can not see what once was!"
and her aching is ever resounding
for all we've left are ceramic fossils -
vogue antiques and prehistoric clumps
in a civilized, mechanised era
We have deserted
the sweet nectars of botanic lush
the mighty roars of tectonic plates
Oh yes, we are buried as well!
Deeper than the shale beneath our rubber shoes
squirming in our renounced soil...
Let us taste the dirt that we have forsaken.
time travel is like an exploding nuclear warhead.
The heavy blue bricks of time released me from between them like melting mortar
and blindly sent me spiraling through a starry landscape of black eternity
as I swerved away from the year I was formerly bound.
I heard the ticking of a thousand and one clocks
as they surrounded me in the ebb of time
and threw me between millennia like how an outfielder throws a baseball
3.
through time, where plated men with ponytails
wielded thin blades filled with the cold honor of past generations.
The silver sound of the swiftly speeding sword strikes
took a piercing physical form as the lonely cry of death
reverberated from the pair of scuffling feet inches away
and his green mask with the image of a six-legged dragon
flung from his head into the damp red grass.
The warrior’s dying face lost its firm composure
and released a single tear, containing every aspiration and dream
his mind ever held. The black-clad men gave me a menacing glance,
and my mind’s timepiece told me to jump carefully because as I jumped
5.
I began to travel again, and noticed a transparent hovercar
a few feet above my head which carried a green-skinned being
with suction cup toes and tulip-shaped fingers.
The fleshy eye protruding from a metal stalk on the right side of its cheek
spotted me and the floating vehicle moved downward.
A hint of the world’s fleeting humanity skittered by my feet
as an old newspaper rolled by like a forgotten tumbleweed
and the pink recesses of my unique brain yelled at me
that any time had to be better.
I looked into a trio of smiling eyes with parasitic teeth
and wholeheartedly trusted my new instincts as I went back home.
2.
into a primordial world of freshly born green leaves
which held a reptilian secret. The bristling of movement
from scaly limbs no human had ever brushed against
sent a red lightning bolt of danger through my back,
as the high pitched clattering of unfamiliar red and brown birds
caused me to notice the ridged mouth of rotting jagged teeth
directly behind me. I held my breath and traveled
4.
into the screeching arc of military fire
the sounds of war echoed throughout the cratered Afghanistan desert.
The sand beneath the soles of my time-tattered shoes trembled
As I fell through the grainy, stick-covered entrance into a pit
full of men who wore brown burlap bags over their bodies.
One grabbed a gray gun with exposed wires
and pointed it at me, but I refused to die as
0.
I noticed the cloudy haze of the linearity of life had vanished
and the constraining shackles of time had been banished.
“The procedure was successful,” said the smiling scientist, as
my unbound eyes flung open and my new brain stretched.
Reality hits like an anvil. See
black figures in the distance, screaming.
Look at your watch and the time won't move,
the core is rotten, the oil slicks smooth.
Watch behind bars you're stuck creating
as everything oozes decrepit, raving,
and all you feel is a vague sense of wrongness
a death in the family happens unnoticed
affects the reality seen through the curtains;
as long as they're closed there's no way to see it
as long as you're closed there's no way to feel it
reality's myth is a nice way to bear it
you can keep it all hidden for a very long time ...
and eyes are full of death besides
but luckily the soul is wise -
it sees beyond my blindness and
forced failure makes a better guise,
so as i come again alive,
it feels like life's a decent plan
The seasons only meet in passing
Furtive glances over shoulders
Smoldering looks and frozen faces.
A mothers weeping, her hesitation
In handing off the fruits of her labour
To three uncertain strangers.
Over time they flourish,
Blooming.
Growing into something she’d be proud of.
Her memories fade in every shade
Of red and yellow, orange and gold.
Applying ice and frost to hide
Another ring of aging.
Once a year they visit home,
But colder now, with snowy eyes
And families of their own.
The Linguistic Dimension is where stories are told
and where crafted lies unfold.
It would be excessive to reduce fiction to a mere fable,
but storytelling is a specular diamond
no analyst can neglect,
although the analyst is not who enjoys literature:
you are. It is your enjoyment
which makes the existence of fiction possible.
An analyst chases their meager meaning of language,
hunched over a tattered book holding a red highlighter,
determined to find an exploitable extract of the blood
inside the author’s immortal words,
while believing that the events of the written word
transpire like clockwork
and change the red of passion
to the black of rusted watches,
as though words are bound by
the copper manacles of their author
when the gold of his words is unconstrained.
A tale should cause an explosion
of warm, fuzzy bubbles which seek
an uninked page in your memory to burst upon.
No story only fulfills a function; no poem
transpires unseen; no plot is a fallacious complementarity;
no verse is a simple signaling of the location of objects;
no part of creativity follows the
“x² + px is perhaps not absolutely equal to q”
reasoning of literary mathematicians.
A book is bound in only two ways:
by its spine and by your imagination.
This was a poem written by myself when a coworker told me to write about summer storms. Here is my poem about summer storms. I hope you like it.
Summer Storm's
Have you ever been awaken in the middle of the night?
To hear what sounds like the strangest of fights
Off in the distance loud bangs and booms
You look out your window and see nothing but gloom
You realize what it is, your hearts beating so fast
You’re praying to the lord for this storm to pass
It’s pouring rain outside and your soaking wet
It isn’t from the rain, it’s from the sweat
With flashes of lightning and the loudest of sounds
You now see something twirling around
Down the street you see things flying
All of a sudden you hear kids crying
Thinking out loud you don’t know what to do
Looking at the world with the newest of views
You see your life flash by your eyes
Its about to end with little surprise
The last thing on your mind is why it’s happening to you
You can’t come up with anything, not even a clue
You wish you could live for a couple more days
Because you can change the world in so many ways
If you could make just one more dream come true
Then you should wish for everyone to pull through
Every now and then a storm like this comes about
For this I’m sure of, without a doubt
How many storms have already come you ask
That’s a simple question, let’s look at the past
The meteor, the plague, aids, and cancer
How many more storms will come, no one knows the answer
The world need a reset, the plans have changed
Why has everyone become so deranged?
With this last question I bring to you
If you could start all over what would you do?
To have your life back with perfection and bliss
To talk to your family and to give them a kiss
It’s the little things in life that matter
Forget all the nonsense and all the chatter
Focus on what’s important to you
Now that you’re awake you know what to do
Do what’s right, help as many as you can
Just don’t make the same mistakes again.
Open ended; broken handed
I take pen to paper
To shed wool over eager eyes
Broken under; torn asunder
Your hopes to uncover
The shepherd's shears amongst the lies
Rainbows of a child's delight,
Roses of red and white,
Intentions of the Titans' might,
Clouds along dawn's new light
Youthful hearts and two lovers shy,
Sands of time passing by,
The might of man we must deny,
Though you will not know why
This shepherd's words decipher not
Notions worthy of valued thought