Poem: Pneuma


Finding the silence within

when surrounded by

perpetual sound

Sitting still

quietly

empty of noisy thoughts

This is the struggle

of the

evolving soul

Advertisements

Poem: Out


Fire burns within

and can barely be contained

crackling heat howls in the belly

where it can no longer be sustained

 

The snapping tips of this inferno

have stayed inside too long

now it must taste freedom

or its host will be charred up gone

Poem/Song: My World Will Be OK


As I step outside

into the warmth and light

out of the dark and hollow

past pain and inner fights

 

From places unfamiliar

where I was forced to stay

moving now towards the future

My world will be OK

 

I’ve cried so many tears

and felt a crush of heartache

the roads have been rough

easy ones I did not take

 

It felt like I was a loner

on dark and private days

Yet I always saw a glimmer

that my world would be OK

 

With my past I drift

and some blinders that darken me

to set sail for a future

where tomorrow is eternity

 

So my world will be OK

I will find my way

pass the past

through today

and maybe someday

it will be OK

Poem: Strength


Remember the power

of movement

Strong sinew

forward steps

Strength from unknown fathoms

long ago

Climbing mountains

and racing miles

The mind

made a warrior queen

who won the war of

crossing over

beyond the limit of

boundaries set

Pain had no meaning

then

So now

remember

this arc of steel

bent from brain to body

Now this pillar once so

bold

must summon back

the unseen force

 

 

 

 

Impurities


There are some things we have done in our lives that others may never understand.

In a dream last night, a person visited me, someone I spent time with in my past. No-one could understand why I would ever spend time with this person. No amount of explaining would help, in fact, it usually made everything sound more insignificant as though I was making excuses for our friendship.

Some things are best left undefined.

Maybe it takes years for us to understand some of the things we do. They may just feel right at the time, at a certain age or given circumstances. When one tries to corral something out of character, and treat it like an unwanted guest, a crack can form in the every day surface of our armor.

Who are we then really?

These oddities are maybe then part of the schema of life. The little impurities we swallow or wear, (that others can’t bear to endure), but that make us deeper and more magnificent.

So, we learn later, the scars are our beauty and our choices the strength.

And all shall be embraced in the end.

Poem: Upward


I transcend

breathing soft air

and ascend behind flashing eyelids

free now

from egos gravitational lure

Climbing over yesterdays clutter

a wraith rising

through the worldly walls

to wander upon higher plains

Weightless

drifting in dark spirals of space

tiny bits of astral dust

spinning

away away

I shine and hover

as humming of the cosmos

levitates me till

the end of time

 

Poem: Shot & Other Sadness Thoughts


They are gone

yet we tread on

dead-eyed zombies

feasting upon what they left behind

Their flickering ghosts

flash upon screens

and disappearing voices

echo to screams

yet we watch

holding

their dying dreams

***

I was handed my sadness like a suitcase when they pushed me out the door so long ago. It has been with me since then; something I hold near me as a reminder of the pain. But it is also a gift. A beacon to see pain in all other things. I carry that with me too. So this is why I will never truly feel at peace–not fully. Only tiny bits, at moments here and there. Because what I am meant to carry is a story of sorrow. And this sorrow gathers sadness and pain within it and to hide in the crevices, unreachable, forever.