The universe, as humans know it, in all of it's infinite possibility and wonder, contains a certain cruelty, unmeasurable. To live with no purpose, other than to benefit a whole that would see you as nothing more than an obituary or a moment on the evening news were you to perish. Even so, we find courage in the strength, will, and love of others around us. Friendships and families bind us to this merciless mortal coil, this unfathomable existence, out of selfish desire and selfless love, and we too partcipate in this when so presented. We innately understand the unity and futility in being bound to this tragic existence. But behold, being aware of this is a blessing; that is, to know in this unending void of cosmic expanse and earthly turmoil, we can find solace within the true hearts that surround us and guide us back. These true hearts we find along the way, those who care, those who understand, those who help us through the many dark times, are worth many lifetimes of anguish. So I praise you, selfish hearts, were it not for you, I would be nothing more than a distant memory; nothing more than a thinning cloud, vanquished by the dawn of a new day.
10.30.12 (your door to my forest, my prison)
i had hoped
to tie a string
from my arm
to the the door
so i would not
have to leave,
but the wind
cut the night
into threes
therein.
your voice
in darkness
churned awful
memory,
but the night
and the wind
brought forth
certain clarity.
unchained from
the door,
but shackled to
a tree,
the wind
chills my bones,
in the night
still three.
unfortunate fate
forever haunting;
unlucky souls
yes,
that is we.
to tie a string
from my arm
to the the door
so i would not
have to leave,
but the wind
cut the night
into threes
therein.
your voice
in darkness
churned awful
memory,
but the night
and the wind
brought forth
certain clarity.
unchained from
the door,
but shackled to
a tree,
the wind
chills my bones,
in the night
still three.
unfortunate fate
forever haunting;
unlucky souls
yes,
that is we.
10.30.12 (unfinished)
there in the grass
i see shadows cast
over blades of green
they follow me.
there is not one,
but many.
they follow me,
reminders of persons
of all kinds,
forever trapt,
in the distance
of the past.
i see shadows cast
over blades of green
they follow me.
there is not one,
but many.
they follow me,
reminders of persons
of all kinds,
forever trapt,
in the distance
of the past.
10.30.12 (foolishness for now)
the poor man
has a certain sense
of clarity
in matters of the heart,
but a poor, lonely man,
abandons that clarity
for another drink.
has a certain sense
of clarity
in matters of the heart,
but a poor, lonely man,
abandons that clarity
for another drink.
10.30.12 (decidedly, no more)
i'll chop down
each tree
that blocks
my path
if only to see
but a glimpse
of the garden
that i seek
that i see
in my dreams.
i will cross
each river,
climb
each mount,
if only to find
what it is
that i lost
in that garden.
if i find it again,
in another place,
keep the old one,
or throw it away,
you can have
that piece
stinky.
each tree
that blocks
my path
if only to see
but a glimpse
of the garden
that i seek
that i see
in my dreams.
i will cross
each river,
climb
each mount,
if only to find
what it is
that i lost
in that garden.
if i find it again,
in another place,
keep the old one,
or throw it away,
you can have
that piece
stinky.
10.26.12 (shit)
Is any of this shit
The shit I thought
I would find myself
Waist-deep in
Struggling to find room
To breathe.
Dreams feel like
Memories
Of a person
I once knew.
10.23.12 (voyeur)
I began to experience a certain disconnect from reality. It's something we all come across once we've reached the bottom of the barrel. It's as if you are a voyeur, peering into someone else's life, experiencing their demise secondhand. It was strange, I couldn't find my own thoughts among the mess of static I heard teeming within my brain. The only thing I felt I could do was wait, and hope that this too would come to pass...
10.23.12 (silence)
Sometimes silence speaks words at greater volumes than any voice could ever carry. Moments turn to monuments, in one second of silence. It can contain a lifetime of lessons learned, or forgotten. It can complete or destroy a person. Such a simple, yet chaotic thing silence can be.
10.23.12 (spell)
Suddenly it came to fruition: why this had been so crippling. She was someone very different from myself, but very similar. She understood. Such a rarity to find. In any case, returning to my own thoughts was not a pleasant transition, it can never be after the sweetness of shared emotion. Such delicacies of the heart are never to be taken lightly, for they are the things that one carries with them for eternity.
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