Twisting and Turning,
Seeking
and
Marching…
Towards.
There is no straight shot
There isn’t even a finish.
Only the road.
When you realize that you can’t get there,
You have arrived,
You have arrived.
Category: MORE
Wild Thing
Do I love you,
Or will I tame you?
Do I fear you?
Will I love you?
So much to see
and say
and do
and touch
and be.
So much-
too much.
Safer to wait.
Precocious
Autumninox (#III) : Revelation
The Game Hath Changed.
Hello Spring.
Message In A Bottle (2012)
Shameless self-recriminations
And confessions once buried deep
pour out – gush out – bleed out.
Unseemly Behavior
all targeted
at you,
sent
to you.
Through a bottle,
A communal bottle.
Perhaps I need a dove?
Or a crow?
Or a Firebird?
Or perhaps
simply,
the answer is,
“No”.
chicken little
Don’t blink
This is a showdown-
Pride vs.
winning trumps everything,
even happiness.
And I am the reigning champion.
On top of the world,
alone
silpitsad
Eyes
skip left
and back right –
searching…
hoping:
is it?
was it?
could it be?
should I?
……
A rising crescendo of doubt
beats across your chest.
Sage decisions compromised
by lurking fears
that were never extinguished during sunnier times.
Now thriving and festering,
fear gnaws on what purpose and will remain.
Faith,
She has not left you.
so abandon her do not.
She will shoulder your load
until you are ready.
Until you fly.
yeah,
She’s good like that.
hermit
Growing,
in his snug little cave.
His snug, tiny, grubbly little cave.
He is among the ashes.
Ashes from days long gone.
Ashes that gather and taunt.
Ashes that sully and teach.
Ashes that cloud and mystify
past acts of passion-
past acts of folly.
Pick up that broom
and sweep out the hearth.
Get your house in order
for the school is in session.
The Teacher is in, and
The Master has arrived!
AWAKEN!
(you’re sitting in his seat)
Drift
…
………
Somewhere
Is.
…..
………….
Where?
………….
Need.
All….
Never again.
Fleeting Summer; Imperfect Balance (and other related metaphors)
Faint whisper of a cool breeze
blows past dragonflies
Onto my dripping neck.
What was lost
now returns,
Slowly and surely-
Just on time.
Through this cycle-
Through this circle,
We are given opportunity:
Opportunity to create something new
within our ringed prison
of reality.
What will you do
with this time?
This perfect time between
Summer and Autumn?
This time between moments?
This time that only exists once-
except when it comes back.
Take this time
And swallow it.
Then let it swallow you.
It is yours
You belong to it.
Cleave unto
and from.
And build a sandcastle
For the coming storm.
theDeprevation 