introspective

Eyes Wide Shut

Folder: 
Prevailing

When I close my eyes

I hear this sound

Like a lullaby

Faint and distance

Sweet smells of nostalgia

Resilience

When I close my eyes

I taste these memories

Like how the sun dies

Mournful and Longing

Knowing by faith

Belonging

When I close my eyes

I feel this calling

Like the sunrise

Spirited and Near

I exhale encumbrances

No Fear

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Five Year Journey

The weather is well

The sky is blue

The day anew

The little birds wake and sing

We wake because our alarms ring

I can’t tell

If that was the screams in my head or

The school bell

I’m inside

Inside again

Inside myself

Translation of my ideas, I’m deaf

Sympathetic to several causes

Seemingly smart with scarce solutions

Often imagining the future

Taking the high way in the maze of life

Road block

Stagnated, frustrated

Angst

Initially, but it evolved courageously

It’s hard to understand ourselves

Time is the patron of change

 

Now that I get it

Or

That I think I get it

I’d like to rewind

And restart the picture I painted

Purify the person I tainted

Use the colors that I wish I used

My eyes see nothing new, I’m unamused

Now there’s nowhere to memorize just open your mind

Analyze every line

Because all the world’s a stage

Regressed to Illiteracy 

In my book I can’t seem to turn the page 

Learning till the day I die

Consumption of corruption because it’s easy

 

Though,

Our interests are mutual

Alone like my daily ritual

Instant satisfaction

Failing to ponder and think critically

Why don’t we ask why

By social stigma we act cynically

To me my shadow is colorful

Full

The feeling we search for

Push and pull

Two sides seen by only two eyes

Left & right, black & white

Understanding is out of sight

Success

Maybe

I might

Still figuring it out

 

Silence kisses my lips

Only talking when we take sips

Beats my heart skips

My conscious flows in the veins of my eyes

My tongue is red like my lies

Tarnished are my teeth and my thoughts

And without purpose my soul rots

The human hand is the door knob to a person

But my hands are locked in fists

Wrinkles in our palms

The fleshy manifestation of our route through life

Legs like ruined Roman columns

Glory with revitalization

Destruction with mistreatment

Only if he comes to a sooner realization

He’ll become a traitor of stag-nation

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first written poem. The title simply signifies the teenage years and I feel as if it really dug deep into my 17 year old head. Please tell me what you thought of it.

I'm here though

Im here from the back to the stop stair

never watching those who dont care

i smell fear and sneeze in your air

a factor in any area i share

i remember when i saw the top and thought dont go there

i remember when i  had to window shop back there

now i say give me whats on that rack right there

If you ever had enough you would've been  left back there

 

i made it on my own with no team

i made it on my own take a seat

i made it on my own you can see

i make it on my own as i breath

i make it on my own as i seek

i make it on my own with no team

 

out of the depth of my prison

world dark never had vison

even so i always had missions

half empty or full cup

whatever capacity i made enough

pain theif I took so much

never really loved but i'll heal for a crush

half empty or full i dont spill my guts

if you with me im glad you could come

 

i made it on my own with no team

i made it on my own take a seat

i made it on my own you can see

i make it on my own as i breath

i make it on my own as i seek

i make it on my own with no team

 

I made it on my own what a king

I made it on my own i do my thing

I make it on my own thanks to me

If you make it on your own do your thing

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Independence expressed

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just stop for a moment

just stop for a moment

and picture a place and time

way, way back there in the past

when greek and roman mythology

both reigned supreme

back when the world was still quite young

with lots of forests and woodlands

and covered over with pretty shades of green

 

then one special day

god reached down to earth

and came upon a young boy

who was really just half grown

happily swimming in the ocean

with a dolphin

long before the fear of humans

had ever been sown

 

anyways he was out there at sea

although he was all by himself

he was protected and safe

there with the dolphins

and somehow still very close to home

 

long before anyone had ever thought

to even giving him a name

or carve his statute in stone

for right now at least ---

he was still a young boy

happily swimming in the ocean

but really all alone

 

now think back to a time

long before people hungered

for the emptiness of fortune and fame

long before anyone had ever thought

to give the boy a name

 

but on that special day

god spoke and said

look ---

I know you’re just a young boy

swimming out here in the ocean

and having lots of fun

way out here in the sea

under a bright and warm summer sun

 

but if you didn’t act so dumb

and sometimes kind of stupid

you could almost be another angel

or even another cupid

 

because cupid could fly around

just all over the place

and touch each person’s heart

among every creed and race

 

the boy listened – but couldn’t speak

was this really god ?

and was he really this near ?

and was he really this close ?

the boy was totally stunned now

and overcome with anguish and fear

 

then god was gone

and the boy was alone again

with just his troubled thoughts

and mixed up hopes and dreams

and maybe even some silent

confused and muddled screams

 

but he thought to himself

over and over again in his mind

for at least a thousand times

 

( and you might as well know it right now !!! )

 

he was still looking for more proof

or at least a few more signs

 

anyways he thought to himself

those things that cupid spoke of

whether they’re real or not

or whether they came down from heaven

or from some distant galaxy

way way out there in outer-space

 

or were they just from

some crazy person’s wild imagination

whatever creed – whatever race

 

because --- if they really do make people happy

really, really happy

( for he too was kind of like cupid )

( sometimes kind of – sort of a little stupid )

 

for he simply couldn’t figure out

or understand why

if those things that cupid spoke of

if they make people – really, really happy

 

THEN WHY ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH ----???

DO THEY ALSO MAKE PEOPLE CRY ----???

 

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Tired Mind (Feb 12 2011)

Folder: 
Diary

My mind is tired my body numb, sometimes I wonder just how far I've come.
Have I really made any difference at all, or should I rip up the foundation and let it fall.
These quiet dead mornings are murder on my mind, before the sun comes I look into my mind
What I see is a lot of nothing, empty actions and promises that never took wing.

The light of the lamp inside, causes reflections on all that is outside.
The world's still asleep yet I'm awake, left along with my thoughts to bake.
Slowly deeper into my mind I crawl, and higher still build this hardened wall.
Around my heart to keep all back, always expecting a sneak attack.
 

I do not have a clue where these thoughts will go, sometimes filled so much with woe.
The world awakes as the sun lifts up, time to get that morning cup.
Caffeine jolts upon the brain, and brings an end to this pain.
Once more to the world I blunder, smile upon my face yet heart asunder.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It's never good when I have too much time to think...

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