Existential

Ambrosia

and in one fell swoop sideswiped
vowing inner silence in marooning mecca
wading into the inertia of the spiral
magnetic north mimicking my gravitational pull
north star finally staring on true north
easy gaze behind the scenes
choosing the scenic route more easily
smoothing out the ubilical wrinkle
bygones now surely by and gone away
as woefully has the river ever flown
falling for the tilting undertoe
digested through the hypnagog ripcurl
eyebright skylined in eliptical eclipse
tangled and devoured amongst the foliage
bare minimum oval at lukewarm diameter
modestly and mockingly

in one fell swoop bewildered

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LYING BEYOND

LYING BEYOND

(T. Beechey)



There's nowhere to turn and you learn by fate

It's too late to try,so why anticipate?

And what lies beyond has dawned on us all

Shall we fall into traps which collapse the wall?



You can wait till forever,but you'll never realize

That the eyes which follow are just a hollow disguise

What once shown clearly was merely a charade

And what made the most sense condensed into a fade



And what lies beyond has dawned on us all

Can we call out to our neighbors? Are they able to stand tall?

Since I paid the highest price and twice I was misheard

The third time I understood yet couldn't say a word



There's nowhere to turn as the burn within ignites

And the nights are preceded by a much-needed light

And what lies beyond has dawned on us all

In a dull,faint illusion of delusion and lull

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PERHAPS

PERHAPS

(T. Beechey)



Perhaps in an opposite universe,I'd find it better instead of worse

Away from the madness,apart from the tears with distance between myself and fear

Where what  I am is clearly known and what I'm not's sincerely shown

Lies and truths don't intertwine,fact and fiction have parallel lines



Perhaps in a separate scenario,I might discover where I should go

Past the future and into the dream,over the edge and through the seam

Where what's untrue has been exposed,where what may be is only supposed

No question or query,speculation or guess,it's all understood with no need to confess



Perhaps in a different point of view,I could ascend to worlds anew

Through the maze,against all odds and into the realms of fools and gods

Where an open road leads to destiny and how I'll get there is plain to see

And doubts are merely consequence for misinterpreting common sense



Perhaps in another place and time

I'd be allowed to soar and climb...

But here I am in the here and now

Not knowing why or where or how

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PASSING PHASE

PASSING PHASE
(T. Beechey)

There's still an echo of her presence which fills my inner being
With the beauty and the essence of all that is agreeing
To the soul and to the spirit and,for that,I give you praise
Although I sometimes fear it may be just a passing phase
I hope that I'm mistaken and her presence shall adorn
Each moment I awaken to the songbirds in the morn
And she'll be the last reflection at the closing of the days
For I treasure this connection...don't let it be a passing phase

Just a passing phase which never stays
Only allows a glimpse to those which gaze
Upon what shone color through the grays
Of a life otherwise so dull
Take all that I possess and own
Leave my times with her alone
Without them,existence would be known
As nothing whatsoever at all

She was all that ever mattered in a world that mattered none
As I wander through the shattered dreams of what begun
My only prayer's to be permitted to continue along the ways
That we were so committed if this is not a passing phase
So,I hope life's understanding as I speak my only plea
I hope I don't appear demanding for that's not the style of me
All I ask is but a moment in the aura of her haze
Which shall remain unspent if this is a passing phase

Just a passing phase,one that plays
A minor role,for a while ablaze
Then fizzles out with the fading rays
Of an insequential sun
I cannot even bear the thought
That all we had and all we got
Will simply all just go for naught
And what we've shared is done

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Weird

People call me weird

Even though I am not feared

Everyone is different

Including people who collect lint

You can keep on calling me strange

But I am not going to change

If you call me odd

I won't hit you with a rod

I'll simply take it as a compliment

Or I could just ignore it

No matter how hard you try

You wont make me cry

Because I am strong

And I'm right where I belong

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It Is

Folder: 
Childish, I Know

It's bitter and it's sweet,

It's icy and it's heat,

It's still and it's hazy,

It's busy and it's lazy,

It's smooth and it's rough,

It's weak and it's tough,

It's work and it's play,

It's passion all the way,

It cries when it's night,

It smiles at first light,

It starts and it ends,

It breaks and it mends.

It's love and its signs,

It's life and its times.

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IN THE END

IN THE END

(T. Beechey)



Let me tell you about the dream I had,it wasn't happy and it wasn't sad

I can't say whether it was good or bad because,in the end,we all go mad



I had a dream a while ago

About a town I didn't know

And you and I were lying low

While everyone else ran to and fro



You and I,just standing still

Down in a valley,up on a hill

You told me to jump,I said I will

But instead I flew,I flew until



I reached the very top of the sky

And I saw things no other eye

Had ever seen,could ever try

What I saw was the reason why



It wasn't fancy but it wasn't plain,there was no loss,but there was no gain

It's really kind of hard to explain because,in the end,we all go insane



Why I am,why I'm here

Why I'm not who I appear

Suddenly,it came so clear

And even more so as I drew near



And,the nearer I drew,I realized

I was seeing myself through another's eyes

Ones without blame or disguise

And insight to clear up all those whys



Why I am the way I be

Why I'm you and why you're me

Why we're not what others see

And why we were what once was we



There was nothing neither cruel or kind,nothing was lost,there was nothing to find

It can't be properly defined because,in the end,we all lose our mind

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#22

Folder: 
Sonnets

In times of dreaded darkness, silence, dearth

of happy hopes and dreams of future fate,

when wound-round thought destroys the timid earth

which guides each footfall, heavy, to its place,

and souls, endampened, shudder at the fall

and rising of each law-ground star above,

engorged with worries burning out at all

the days and nights a-passing in its love -

ah, such a foe no reason can upend,

for darkness, white-washed hopes and haven tracks

ensorcel us, strip off what reason's rend

may qualify, replacing pow'r with wax.

For to become ensorcelled is to try

to find a beauty reason passes by.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A ramble from a couple of months back... started out descriptive until I found my conclusion.

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#19

Folder: 
Sonnets

#19

Without the consolation of an end,

the gods are forced perpetually apart;

their unconsoling lifeless draughts upend

enduring principles beyond their art.

Were gods young men betimes? Were they destroyed

in love, in too great actions, turns and twists?

Did these young gods look nerveless, dead, annoyed

with wasted lives and limbs and spattered wrists?

And then the difference, bothersome, would come;

their daring reaching-past would yield old life;

the frenzied beating of their frenzied drum

would blaze unaltered, baffling, through the strife.

And godhood in such climes, disheartening, last,

would kill the final bell, the trumpet's blast.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

From a poem writing situation thing :p

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