Tag Archives: Nature

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

An Old Ritual

Last night I partook in an old ritual. One my ancestors may have recognized. As an observer I felt more than I can explain, oddly enough. There were not many parts, but there was much fun to be had and many friends to be made. This I think I understand. The profound effects of a ritual always lie in the social aspect for me, the actual God or Gods taking the backseat in my mind. I think I’d quite like to do it again.

Regent of Hearts

I’ve met some great boundless one so far

Who told me how the world’s not so hard

Who filled my heart with no canard

That one who tells stories much like a bard

A sing-songy voice

But not by their choice

I of course must rejoice

They think of me more than a shithouse Joyce

Of gumdrops and lilypads

A fantasy land

Of good moms and good dads

There in that castle just by the sand

Idyllic machination

Psychadelic fascination

A world so full of recreation

And creation

A world so fully embraced the Mad

Still Cold Amidst The Fires

Have you ever felt that bone-chilling cold? That cold that not only chills your body but your mind, your heart, and even your soul? Light a fire just to keep warm. You’ll just end up burning the house down. The firefighters picking through the burnt and smoldering wreckage of what was once a home only to find you there, sitting on an ashen sofa, turned from flesh and bone to ice. So cold to the touch it spreads.

Frostbite

So cold

Freezing, even

I can put on a blanket but…

It won’t help

This frigid mood that overtakes

Turns to ice even the largest lakes

Can’t feel my fingers

Can’t feel my toes

Only the stinging, piercing cold that knows

I hold this in

And freeze within

Look behind my eyes and see the snow.

A Light That Won’t Go Out

Always on, always burning. There is a lamp that never goes out. The light across the bridge, the light at the end of the tunnel, eyes in the dark that watch your every move. For every champion of the light, there lies in secret something far more sinister. But just as there lies the body of the Sinisterium, so too is there the light. May harmonic balance find you and retrieve you from the depths of this eternal oscillation so that you may see the light as much as the dark. To walk not between worlds, but within one world. Find yourself now, arbiter of the unbroken. I hope you all like the poem today.

Blindspot

Is there anybody out there?

Searching, never finding

Plentitudes

Of loneliness and solitudes

Staring down at screens abound

Wishing only i could hear the sound

The angelic hymn and calming tune

The hope to hear your voice again soon

I feel so lost amidst the dunes

Shifting sands

Far from home in distant lands

Skin so burning

Stomach so turning

I only hope that i am learning

Peering out at ancient monoliths

Think of you, i hope to share with

These old bones and ancient myths

Try again to find the pith

Specters haunt and do surround

The darkness always finds a way around

Ever The Romantic

Somehow, I manage to retain my ability to see the world in rose-colored glasses no matter the circumstances. I look up through the clouds and see the stars shining just so brightly that I am basked in the faintest of lights. A world in which the problems I face are but a bump on a road to something greater. Gotta keep looking forward, that’s where your eyes face.

My Heart In California

There I am

Heart in the sand

In California where I wish I could stand

Smell the sea

And hear the gulls

Ships passing by, so many hulls

Cliffs by the ocean

Penguins in the spring

The queerest little notion

Perhaps you’d like this ring?

Hear wedding bells

Adorned in seashells

Listen to what the wind tells

That golden, shining bridge

Spied from a ridge

I think that’s where I’d like to be with you