A word I no longer care for
That’s Stupid...
To waste your life creating things for someone else
When really all that I create is to learn about myself
To understand the other half, of the other side
of the other me... And to create something so foolish
And to think that it represents most perfectly
That perhaps, was stupid of me.
Sharing
Who among you knows my name
Enough to call me as I am?
To see beyond the former self?
To view me as a person again?
And not as the one time, one man fad?
Because I hate small talk and then
But love not having to meet again
With the same old misconception mold
Which tries to reshape our conversation
Back into the ways of old
Because that was an outdated version of me
And I have reasons for which I seek
to share only certain portions of me
In a world where I am not at ease
Because if I always would let them in
Everyone could see me, and everyone could judge me
And that just simply couldn't be
Because within the looking glass
There are so many sides to me, most humbly
And no one yet has proven themselves
Enough to be considered... trustworthy
U.S - P.S.
If I could box up all of the words
The most beautiful ones that I've found
And send them to you in the mail
I would do it without hesitation
Because beautiful words don't belong in my world
And I'd much rather see them alive and well
In the hands of a timid, reflective girl
Who might just melt them into song
In a world where such words actually belong
Wherever
Let there be a lasting peace which follows you
constantly, steadily, clearing the path before your feet
Finding you an empty bench or an open seat
Wherever you go, would you walk with the confidence
As if you know, that wherever your wandering
feet may go. Such peace and grace will
follow also. Everywhere, down every road.
Stuff
Headspace here is what I really need
No special air to breathe
or a mountain spring to drink from
Free is how I wish to be
And freely is how I wander, aimlessly
Between the iles lined with things
Which, if given the chance, would make any wandering
man feel like a king. When really it's just the
space I think, which permits me to feel like
a king, in this place which is home to many
things.
Choose true power
True power
Is knowing when
And choosing to
Hold back a fist clenched
When you have every right to strike
But don’t
This is as sure as truth
For truly as true power is
Instead
Not to react
But to choose
Put a number on them
Number my thoughts?
Impossible.
You'd have a better chance-
-animating the cold sands
Mold me slightly a certain way,
and on my own I'll stand,
But expect me not.
To live with only black and blue
Because life is too short
to be lived in fear
of such a small thing as mere ink.
As such a large thing as a bruise.
Waves
The moment you are most comfortable
The moment you are "free"
Is a lie...
Because the next wave is on its way
And soon you will be crashing down
Just like the wave...
Because life and love I view like this
Though most around you do not know
That they are tossing in the sea
There will always be another wave
Crashing into you and me
Walking
Humans walk a certain way
Least those who retain their feet
They stagger around every corner of every store
Tracking prints all across the floor
Just to prove that they live
Be it aimlessly or directionally
Buying things.... Why must they do this?
To prove that they have somehow earned much more
Than the poor sap standing on the corner
Are his shoes any less holey?
Are his motives for wanting things any less pure?
I ask because I'm trapped as well
Seemingly walking down the same path forever more
And this bothers me and berates my feet
Because I feel the need to buy things occasionally
Spending money without a seat
To distract me from a certain path
And give new purpose to my own feet
A weary way to live
I’ve since learned
And somehow discovered
That if you wish to be seen
In all your tired glory, revealed
then ignore the world
Truly don’t look for a single sight within eye
And then
Poof
Like with sudden wings discovering flight
All those around you will see you
Even when you see none of them at all
THIS
Is how human nature does arise
And can only be seen
By those who see you in living
When you simply stop
And avert your eyes
In a weary way
To live
A call to breathe
A breath of fresh air is
Not just about today being alive
But about tomorrow being born
And yesterday being gone
(Never to return)
So breathe and be
Don’t hold it in and mourn
Breathe
Wish and care, these can only go so far
Caring is
An expense to heart
Just as wishing is
No more closer to reason than stars
And I
Combine both with a will
A workers fist
To be iron and ore
In the pursuit of truth
And this
Whatever you call this
Is none of those things, for sure
But in fact the opposite
Of whatever misguided vision you seek
For as certainly as I am
Then you also exist
And that ever you have done
I think of
As nothing more than a miss
And misguided in truth
Yet my caring still is
Or was
Too much of self, a tanka
Too quickly am I
As a somber minded self
To assume that these
Carrying things are solely
Disproportionally mine
Title of an unknown realization
Having been introduced
To culture
So intimately
I don’t think I could ever go back
To either the communicative
Or the arts
Never
I’m afraid
It’s a control thing
Down and to (the true)
Down and to
A more realistic earth I fell
When the anticipation of air to hold
Turned out to be
Both incredibly fruitless
And the valueless of him
Was proven and proven and proved
To be beyond all else
And true
Feelings of near
Close and sad
Altogether and at once
Is the outcome to be
Afeard
That the good should fall
And ever stuck should remain
One and the same and ever
Near
When birds were meant to fly
Into a bright sky clear
In falling and stopping
Nothing moves
Shakes and motivates
The falling human heart
More than the fear of the stop
(Found below)
Or so I find
Anything to keep, and continue on, falling
Any ways not to land
With a painful splat
(This is the falling to be found)