When a partner passes
The saddest story
To watch and see
Especially if you aren't in it
And unable to change is
Is goodbye
Where shouldn't there be
There should not be
Any sort of smugness surrounding
Self presence
Or your lack of self loathing
Instead
When a steady man is completely content
He smiles to noone
And puts himself behind all others, first
For he is far from the worst critic of all
Himself
LivingTrue
There ought not to be
An ouce of desperation
In your respiratory life
Instead you should breath
And with an inward self worth
Emit the right and true
Emerge with confidence renewed
And in this way be
Pool and river
A pool will never suffice again
Once you've felt the direction
The guidance as if on a string
And a pull of the current beneath all things
In the river of life
We all move towards the sea
Us each
Far more rapidly than we expected
Pulling, a tanka
Fighting with the grass
To dry itself alive now
Is like painting clouds
Or like brushing tree leaves out
Or like pulling stars down when
Endless worth
If you stumble back
Upon my words
From days perhaps
When my habds were warm
Then know this now
My you who I told
In a time almost as imperfect as yourself
Be it young or old
Or in action or still
I loved you for you, not myself at all
And to your future growth I bend
Unbroken
I always wished to command my will
Becaus you are
And are worth it
Always
Saria
If I knew where
If I knew where
Was the place
I could always be free
Of myself and my own constantly nagging
Judgement of life and self
And thought of being within ideals
If that where was within
Or so I like to think
That is where I would be
Most definitely
Indefinitely
Free
Pennies and stones
Coins in the sand
Are just nothings unfound
And I am in no such search
By the sea or anywhere else around
For you are a gem
Of pure carbon and stone
Less alarming than nickle or copper
And more valued than gold
Saria
Wonder wait why
Enjoyment is a weird thing
Like a door which locks
And you know it will
And yet still you stand
With no desire to walk though
Yet still
It stands there
Before you, innate
And yet you hesi
Wonder
Wait
Why again?
In head thought
We men of thought
Find too much in head
Too often and too soon
Alive so much
That we wish and pray
And return fantasies
To a time of youthful deeds once dear
When the times were like grass
Ever growing and short
And the days were nothing to last
Mere drops of sweat
Running down a buzzed head
For this kind of thought
Had it yet to ne born
In me
Though now I love it somehow
Two skies
Two night I knew
When I walked out under the sky
Not blue
But darker than the sea at its deepest
And felt the softness of future breath
Her whisper quiet in my ear
Sp close
For a rain was coming
Gently in from a future
Just boundless the west
And to the I we ran
Until it cracked no more
Then all was silent once again
And I slept
Watching Life
We watch dominoes fall
We watch people fail
But the average human being
Doesn't think nearly enough
About seeing themselves
Lead
Win
Strive
And in changing
Prevail
It's a shame really
As there's no other life which you'll have
So live it
Pursuit, passion, a life in flow
This passion
My soul aches to be young
To be free in the flow
And pursuit
Free of time
In a place where I
Am unbridled, unbound
And I breathe with the breath
Of a being once known
To me here in my youth
In my memory
In which I've thrived
How I long for the once held
Close forgotten
Clean
High
Of life
A talkative mom
I knew to much
To not say so little
And so I thought
These words of mine
Had expressed enough
To bend the fates
To be at peace in mind
But no
None ever
Such words as water
Are enough
To satisfy
Such an insatiable apatite
For this
The original know
Of a love most kind
Goodbye
Is a said
Which I thought I knew
Until she passed
Me by
You were a mom
I love you
And you were mine
Shining lights
A telented soul
Has a duty to shine
But not to extend themselves perhaps
So much into the sky
As for as they were given
So to this life they comply
In even shining at all
Through the day
But also alight
Through the darkest night
Dont be afraid
Be alive in your craft
Ignite
Exactly where I wanted to be, eight hours later
Hear my young breath
Take a bite out of life
Hear my old soul
Speak a quiet still night
Into the existence of mind
For as surely as I once was here
Still am I still
In moving pens and typing hands
Atop corner seats at coffee swills
Where ink and pen and frustrated quill
Are burried in a white of cloud
There hear my thought for you, instilled
Would you climb and sit this literary hill
Would you?