The Whims of Rain

The raindrops so swiftly poor with a pace resembling the nature of my inner world, so random and whimsical. Each drop a dream, each tap a memory, each splash an image, and the shine of the enchanting reflection portrayed by the puddles of the sparkling water collecting on the surface reveals an intriguing sense of the intricate and subtle dynamics of this world. The feel of its touch on my skin sparkles to mind the inner callings of redemption as if to wash away the darkness of the past. The realm of its embrace upon the atmosphere of the world provides the planes on which I cast the boundless capacities of my hopes and dreams. The delicacy of its stature falls into the chaotic droplets of unpredictability, representing the infinite possibilities of countless phenomena engrained within the threads of my perception. Its repetition synchronizes and disassembles thoughts sharing the doom of this quality. The fluidity of its nature profoundly encompasses the scope of good and evil, and joins them in this supernal weep of grief and joy. The beginning touches of its generosity offer a spontaneous moment by which the differences of our ideals dissolve, and are overlooked with the universal relief of nature’s cleansing. The serenade of the rhythmic ripples of their clashing to the surface somehow dictates all the tears of sorrow of the past, as if to foretell a misfortune approaching. They narrate the tales of those whose tragedies were swept away under cloaks of fear, and expressions of idleness. They somehow display in their reflection the turmoil of passion burning wildly within the depths of our souls. The sounds of the ripples give rise to a deep awakening of the true depths the mysteries this world keeps hidden behind the rays of sunshine. The waves of its dispersion provide a piercing insight into the ultimate subjectivity of the skepticism of all concepts currently held in conviction. The resonation of the flickering of the inexplicable intuition of its scattered yet harmonious rhythm, surely diffuses one into an instigating realization not with words described, but with ecstasy felt.

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Where am I?

Upon a night which I’ve reminisced about the lost fractions of memories gone astray
I felt the stench of loneliness and despair gnaw at my skin, and cast upon me stagnation
The twilight prevailing the resonance of lost fates twinkles upon my eyes, and wipes tears away
I dissolve further into the mysterious fluorescence of the night, and venture to unpredictability

The breeze of this wavering night whispers the voices of those whose silence has overtaken
It unravels the desideratum of the souls lost in the fabric of inexplicable misery, and the passions latent within
It screams out the genuinely expressed intuition who crave the embrace of true transcendence
It cries through the ripples of rain drops the tales of what could have been, of what should have been

The breaths associated with the pace of my walk slowly drifts into the mode of contemplation
I witness the slow wavering of the trees in the night, the tickling of the whispering wind crawling up my spine, the motion of car lights and objects into the fading distance, the flickering of the moon’s shine in the gloom of the night, the beats of my overwhelmed heart, and the thoughts racing through my head all at once, then I stand in awe and wonder,
Where am I?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Hope you enjoy it :)

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Cheap Tricks

What more is this
Than a peddlar’s menagerie?
A little hiss
Of ego to infinity?
And partial focus
Of hocus-pocus?
(With that occasional glimpse of pink
Out of my metaphysical top hat?
And now, dear child,
A rabbit for you.
Don’t let it escape
You want
To head
Feet first
To Wonderland.
For this rabbit is a bundle of string, that will unravel
At any moment along the gravel
To lead you longingly out of this life of strife,
Rife with multifarious lack of rhyme
And self-awareness so nefarious.
So, I ask you, believe in my trickery:
For with your belief it can transcend this mockery.

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Darkness Nears

Infinite slumber.
Cessation of perception,
Thoughts crack and splinter.

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The False Light

A question of life,
What lies ahead,
what gnarled path have you taken,
and does it entwine with mine?

Eliminate the false world,
the lightning colours,
the morning dawn at night,
the stars held by clueless fingers,
gaping at their light.

What is left is only natural,
what is left is what we've been given,
the skies of galore, of splendor and wonder,
the Utopia you've killed
with all this false light.

Are those the hands that killed our world?
Do you walk with guilty steps?
When have you forgiven yourself,
when will those doubts be lifted,
do you know where your soul lies?

Lay down the golden coffins
that line the melted stones,
chop the trees glowing bright
with cold, metal trunks
and barren fruitless branches.
I can't see the world
through all this false light.

A question of what if,
a world with no greed,
no need for paper leaves,
no need for metal pebbles,
a world of no divisions,
don't need no white-lines.

Criss-cross, our paths entwined,
what I've dreamed and what I've lived.
Slink together, stick like sap,
I know it's there,
hidden by foul-scented fog
and flattened, melted rocks.
I know it's there
through all that false light.

It stings my eyes, tramples my vision,
the stars can be seen no more.
The grass is brown,
the river's black,
the trees fall down,
a sickening crack.

A question of truth,
I cannot fathom 
what your minds are like,
what beehive buzzes inside,
why you must create
and destroy and destroy,
only to your benefit.

Are those eyes
or hollow specks,
dotting the line of your face,
or is that you?
Is that anyone?
I'm blinded by the light.

What have you done
to this once wonderful place,
an Eden of abundance and beauty.
Have you masked your strange eyes?

I do know about Eden,
all of us do, we speak the same tung,
the tung you've forgotten.
Where are your heads?
Must you stand up so tall?

Stop! What have you done?
Where is my home?
Where is my family?
Traded for more paper leaves,
given to the endless cages,
fed with slaughtered rabbits
you never gave thanks for.

I can take no more!
I can't see the stars!
The moon's a mask of gloom and pain,
I don't know what you had to gain,
the fog just swarms and swirls.

What are you, exactly?
Where are you?
Why do you make us follow you so?
Why must we follow?
Where are your packs?

Stop the ache that pounds my head!
Destroy the fog that masks your scent!
Drop down and face us,
you can still save it all!
Let my lonely howl ring out,
my eyes are stinging,
my legs are weak,
you've taken far too much
when all I ask is please....


eliminate the false light.

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The Painted World

The painted world
Is where I long to be.
The written world
Is what I long to see.
The creative world
Is what I must find.
But I can't escape
This state of mind.

Zoning out,
I can't hear you,
Don't want to,
You jabber on and on
About facts I don't need to know,
Why can't we just sit?
Admire the crystal snow,
Seek the unseen treasure,
The sweet morning scent,
Find that simple pleasure.

The world is spinning backwards,
The sun sets in the east,
But the clocks keep going,
Round and round,
That sickening, ticking sound,
The sound that means we still have time,
The sound that means life's sweet chime
And death's cold grasp.
Yet no one can hear
Your choking rasp.

Why can't I live
In the painted world?
The world of colours
And magnificent wonders,
The world without pollution
Or pain,
The world with no death,
Doesn't pour when it rains.

Where is the painted world?
Does it lie in the sky?
Where the clouds dance,
And the birds fly?

I don't know if it's there,
Though I can't wonder why.
Is it not human nature
To hope and imagine
There's a place where another world lies?

The painted world
Is where I long to be.
The written world
Is what I long to see.
The creative world
Is what I must find,
But I just can't escape
This state of mind,
Because I know,
I know,
There's no such thing
As a utopia,

Not in life,

But I can dream.

I Dream By Day

I dream by day,
When thoughts provoke
And wonders awoke.
I dream by morning and noon,
When the sky is so blue,
The sun glistens high,
When you can wonder why.

I dream of wonder,
Or galore and splendor,
Of fear and strife,
Of equality and rights.

I dream utopia,
The incredible impossibility,
A topic so often raised,
My vision different from all,
My view only my own,
Can't see other's thoughts.
They can't see mine.

I dream of freedom,
Of wings that fly
And legs that run and run,
I dream of blissful skies
And the depth below.

I dream of dreams,
Of wishes and hopes,
Of the great human flaw
To hope the impossible,
To wish the unthinkable.

I dream by day,
Thinking about the night,
Wondering what the birds are doing,
Wishing I could take flight,
Leave it all,
Condemn this blight.

I dream,
I dream of wonder,
Of horror,
Of splendor
And dreary dismal.
Nothing is ever perfect.
Not even dreams.

I am a dreamer,
Don't worry about calculations,
Those numbers always floating,
I dream of paint and letters,
Of art and writing,
Music and acting,
I dream of the sky,
Stop to think,
Wonder why.

I dream by day,
Nothing's always okay,
I know,
That's why I dream,
For the world to be well
But without the boredom.

I dream because you'd be surprised
How often
A single dream
Can change the world.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only by night." -Edgar Allen Poe


The quote I live by. I dream by day.



So much to lose

and yet nothing at all.

when nothing at all

is what I was to you

why do I feel the need to linger

Inside these wild boys minds,

I'm one in a million baby

you should know that i'm one of a kind.

There has been plenty of damage

from many a previous fire

still i cover it up well

Just call me an excellent liar.

Paint a smile on my face

But i'm not fully here

no I'm not always present

Just because i'm stood there.

All this sex, and the life of the city

I know that it is not for me

I crave peace and quiet

not the silvery surface of some

false paradise

but the realness

of the big black sky

and i could of loved you

for the arch of your brow

for the width of your smile

for your charming brown eye


yet well intentioned

so heavily impressioned

On my mind forever.

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I feel the chill of wind upon my back.
My skin dries chafes and cracks.

Summer is gone yet still I hear
The silent murmur of an ocean in my ear.

The sun is gone the ground is cold.
The wind is wild, harsh and bold.
This desolation darkens my soul.

Summer is gone yet still I hear
The distant calling of the pier.

In these dark months the time must pass
Like an angel staring at an hour glass.
Hearts sometimes freeze.
Wills may buckle at their knees.

Summer is gone yet still I hear
The murmur of hope as time grows near.

As the sand spills upon the crown
One by one they all fall down
Approaching near the end
Like a time honored friend
The rays greet my cold scarred brow

Summer is here yet still I fear
The encroaching darkness as winter nears.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I love winter yet there is a darkness about it.

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