we blink our eyes for a second and it’s already a year ahead, though the...– the vicinity of my brain…typed out for my sweetheart.
i’m sorry i was never the reflection of your dreams i make mistakes like falling streams break promises not recollecting what they mean break your heart like some mad man running loose i was never your perfect escape just hand me that loosened noose were you expecting lilies in the valley frolicking meadows walking, embracing being in each others arms i’m sorry that now...
gut wrenching pain which cries out in excruciating moans that utter unfathomable sentences that conjure not equivalent meanings when misguided affections prevail chasing after the wind trotting ship there it goes…there it sails goodbye It’s always good when nowhere is near a burning flame it disappears and the memory of the past reappears leaving nothing a ground to...
i know that by seeing the sun it’s not going to come probably sooner than i’d imagine too soon to tell after the rain has fallen i wish your silence was awakened to speak of the depths residing i wished for more than walls that darken the beam of light cascading but all i see is hollow warmth of happiness all i feel is pain riddled with a smile maybe you hide more than you...
what speaks of the end
the noon day sun is glaring and i with my sights held high is left with my vision blinding though light has shown it is the night that shines what eats away on perspective is hope that is left all shattered what eats away this mortal wound is love eaten up by hatred words fail to explain the welling or logic far off the distant shore if feeling were left this heart from...
Fractured, Poor and Hilusinating Hope
fractured fragments patched up pavements cynical smile and a dab of entailment lose the excitement after constant feel of confinement did i provoke that thought or made you feel it was all a woeful type of experience? moth infested pockets fake dollar bills and an empty wallet dashed dreams had annihilated any type of hope from coming to fulfillment wallowing then in the ashes basking...
telling tales trapped inside
we probably smiled for days yet masking sweet arrows of hate tried to say a meaningful word of comfort yet full of regret and wallowing hurt it will probably be ok tomorrow as we pull up the sheets maybe it would be easier to lessen the sorrow maybe we’d forget as the day we’ll greet and when the sun has shown to spell the break of dawn and heads get lifted slouching in the...
the background that makes the scene is without the usual hype of beautiful people parading or perfect setting of romantic cascading a tune sung out without proper rehersal or a band tuning out their instruments for a musical just a ragged voice singing a tune strumming and humming awaken the bloom when two put together does not promise eternal when vows of devotion gets broken an...
sitting down and worrying thinking about the glory past moping about the loosing self going about all past defeats is clearly not intentional about moving forward looking at the time pass by hoping for a better life dreaming of a balanced future while doing nothing reclined and couched is clearly not intentional about moving forward reminiscing about the former praise jotting down...
my canvas is painted with every color imaginable brushed with strokes of passionate sweeps kept safe in an abysmal stream distant voices they too paint portraits some rough sketches some worthless traces but they color their image with well painted faces …
Distant Calling..."if only"
It’s funny or is it more a parody that I found your profile flashing on my computer screen. Memories seem to gush out and do they ever. That distant space in time when in my head I was toying with the reality that another space in my heart will be open to another again after some needless sorrow. Well it was for a while and then it was gone. But I think I screwed it up somehow by being...
For the love of being safe
We hate the constant messy development of ideas those that have no apparent leanings that form enough logic We throw away mystery and all the amazing unseen We draw before us safe nets, well thats just tragic For what is better compared to shelved compounded systems that work their way to a coherent core like drawing, just follow where the dots lead happy that everything is safely...
Tearing up inside
We worry too much to even start living, eating away existence on a mere recollection or hope laid on a tight rope. Stare into the abyss of broken dreams. Cherishing the the unseen. Craving for a gaping void to find ourselves rattled by what reality holds. Innocence is bliss but soon forgotten when our minds are cluttered with shattered images framed as portraits. A constant reminder of the blue...
The Chasm of Dreams and The Present
I’ve always had this obsession. Of Being a free spirited person, running and chasing after the wind. Living fearlessly, having no need of trying and live life being a slave to money and the pursuit of fame. Living along the means of contentment and the knowing sense of self worth and dignity without the compulsion to attain anything. This is a probing that keeps itself locked up in the...
when it's too late
I stand beside closed doors Knocking for maybe a second chance After all I’ve done There may be no recollection Of when the day feels like the setting sun I’ve done what it takes to rub the mistakes To erase the effects that stained your yesterdays But I see them all coming short Never gaining wings strong enough to fly away In life, there are times when there are no sweet...
Peering Inside me
I see peering inside me something from the depths, I look at the deepening hollows where outside are spaces, where trust was lost truth evaporated. I hear in the distance the sound of the sea the sound where embracing me of solace and deepening peace But where distance is calling a chilling breeze distills the rage inside me has not distilled And in my stillness screams for...
It’s something of a paradox sometimes when leaving home. There is a sense of being set free into the wild and there is that other sense of being saddened by the whole ordeal. Today is my last day being home before starting the journey again. I’m still studying. I’ll soon have to bury myself in books and writing. I don’t mind. I love to do those things. Some might call this...