Hi all, my apologies for not letting you know beforehand. I left today for vacation and most likely will not be back until Sunday. I may post some writing that I do on the trip once I get back, but I will not be posting again until then. Thanks everybody for reading and sticking with me!
Tag Archives: future
Dreaming Of The Sea Again
The same dream again. I see the sea so close by and yet… It remains so far away. Miles and miles I could trek and ever still would not find it. One day though, I will find my place beside the sea. That place where I intend to laugh and play and hear the gulls. To smell that sweet sea air. Peace, well deserved.
Origami Heart
There abounds my heart,
fluttering, flying, floating down
and lightly alighting on the sand.
It looks as if a paper gull,
origami,
that ancient art.
A folded page in the shape of that
thing which beats beneath my breast.
So light and so airy,
held there by the breeze,
as if some old fairy.
No wishes to be wrought.
All I’ve got is what I brought.
Smell the salt and brine,
reminiscent of cheap wine.
Written there upon the page,
a memory perhaps,
or some old adage.
Can’t quite catch!
If only I could read it,
perhaps I could remember
how the world was lit.
If only for a little bit.
Into The Jungle
I dream of having adventures in faraway lands with faraway circumstances. Perhaps I’ll leave, taking only my stetson and the clothes on my back. I’ll go and leave and finally be me. I suppose we’ll see. Enjoy the poem, friends.
Friend by the Falls
I see there in the distance
a waterfall
and the road that winds,
leading up to there
through the trees.
I can hear the crashing.
The water hitting the rocks.
Past the point of no return.
Hot sun above
and sounds of the jungle.
How can you feel?
How do you feel?
I only feel that pounding
of that water on the rocks,
resonating through my core
It’s sundown now.
A jaguar stands at attention.
I ask the cat a question as it watches:
“Hello, friend. Who is that reflected in your eyes?”
“I don’t recognize him,”
I whisper so sweetly so that only the ears of a predator might hear me.
The jaguar stares on,
looking as if to speak,
but it turns away.
There will be no answers today, friend;
you must find you yourself now.
“Goodbye, friend,” my words saunter off into the darkness.
In A Haze
Woken up again, I find myself responding to the light and to the chirping. To the stimuli, as I should. To all things, as I have before. Perhaps I must change again? I am too much the same as I’ve been, floundering in that sea of doubt and sameness that continues to rise and rise until it rests just below my chin. It stops there and waits, knowing I know of it and what I feel about it. Knowing the anxiety it causes me. Cognizant of the fact that its sentience and salience terrify me like nothing has terrified me before because, simply, the idea of stagnation is equitable in my mind to an endless torture. I find that hell would be preferable to purgatory in that I at least derive some comfort from knowing my torture, rather than not knowing my fate. Please enjoy the poem, friends.
Waking Up
Sick again
I keep doing this
I don’t know
It hurts again
I keep a head
Always in cycles
Moving in circles
Wondering why I did that same thing again
Why i laid my head to rest on that same lap again
To find my roots amongst the trees
And my legs against the seas
Tired of finding that i have weak knees
I’ll don my tricorne
And I’ll set off
Or I’ll set sail
And go there far beyond the pale
As friends and foes sit and wait,
I find myself not resigned to this fate
For it’s with destiny that i have a date
Princess On A Train, The Train
Today I have for you the story of a girl on a train. The story of a girl of such ethereal beauty, abundant character, and brazen intellect that one could hardly consider her real. The story of our lady, that one who is champion for us so that we may live again in that kingdom of golden plenty. The story of that girl who is the light when all is in darkness. The story of that one who I only hope that someday I can be compared against in half as favorable a light. Please enjoy the poem today. This one means a lot to me.
Our Lady, The Traveller
So many fears
And so many tears
The story of a girl on the subway
A girl crying on the train
A girl with eyes so vibrant and beautiful
The war for Helen of Troy might seem like a playground spat
Were she now to be the focus
This girl on the subway
With jet black hair
And the fairest of skin
Sweeter than honey
Feeling less than sunny
The days for her
Already long
Grow longer still
She waits for her mind to come home from war
For her love to come knocking at the door
Staring out the window
Seeing stations pass by
She tells herself that little lie
“I’m ok! I’m alright,” she’ll cry,
As her manicured nails dig into her thigh.
Recalcitrant as she is
In her rebellion against the crown
She fears now the forces rallied to her opposition
As their war horns sound
But our lady, my lady
The princess and heir
So beautiful and fair
Those horns that sound
Her allies to her aid
Riding down the mountain in that most righteous cavalcade
That girl crying on the subway
She’ll find the words with which to say,
“I’m ok. I’m alright.”
And on that day,
She’ll have the strength to fight.
