Filed under: writings | Tags: Days, fantasy, life, Perfect, philosophy, poem, poetry, Reflect, writing, writings
On days when the sun sets slow,
And moments linger.
We pray for static,
Then wait for change.
Watch life unfold,
Like some perfect photograph.
Sit and watch the sunrise,
From the corner of the room.
Ignore the setting stars,
The hour has just begun.
Dress yourself for a busy day,
Change your mood to suit your face.
And as you greet fellow passers-by,
Feel your heart sink faster.
All that you keep hidden,
All that’s to be found,
Will somehow seep through the crowd,
And break us.
We will be broken,
We are but broken.
So sit yourself down,
Watch the worlds collide.
Fears will overrule you,
But steady as she goes,
We’ll inch by together.
Filed under: Favorites, writings | Tags: bloodbath, imagination, imagined, kill, masacare, poem, poetry, short, thoughts, train, writing
The anxious thumb twirling,
The weight of the world.
So many strangers,
With intentions unclear
The writing on the blood stained cabin walls.
Name your victim,
Name your price.
City’s burning,
The floating neon.
Filed under: writings | Tags: clouds, float, mystery, poem, poetry, reality, return, stranger, writing
One of these days I’d stop floating.
Fall through the clouds,
And land on my feet.
Stand on my own,
And wonder the streets.
Remind me to keep my head up high.
Remind me I should forget.
Say the destination is unknown,
And I will follow religiously.
Silver toned photographs,
Occupy every corner of my mind.
Mysterious stranger, why have you come?
Did you bear gifts?
What is your purpose?
Have you come to see the bolt of lightning,
or come to fuel the flooding rain?
Are you the final piece of the puzzle?
Or a riddle yet unsolved?
Age withers the restless,
But youth corrupts the soul.
Carry on carrying on.
Life has just begun.
Keep yourself busy.
A most beautiful numbing.
Filed under: writings | Tags: fantasy, gate, poem, poetry, reason, writing
I’m afraid of tumblin’,
Getting bruises on my knee.
I’m afraid of reaching high,
And missing what I see.
I’m afraid of walking slow,
Brushing fingertips with the snow.
So that’d be my reason.
That’d be the rhyme.
I’m afraid of losing,
What isn’t truly mine.
When paths are long and overrated.
I’ll wait outside the closed front gate.
Hands in my pocket,
Waiting on the other side.
Watch the neon drown my eyes.
Imagine not climbing the apple tree.
Tell myself the highest are full of seeds.
I will make my steps slowly.
Step on each forbidden path.
Carry me home.
Filed under: Favorites, writings | Tags: Black, death, life, passing, philosophy, poem, poetry, Rhapsody, writing
When you’re getting tired,
Your world is standing still.
You live through layers of regret,
And regretting all your guilt.
Your breathing slows a little,
You struggle for air,
The gloss over your eye lids,
Seems to disappear.
You don’t understand the world,
And all the games that they play.
You sit still watching their every move.
But still it makes no sense.
Why do things happen the way they do?
Why do the skies seem so far away?
You leave knocking on the window sill.
You lie waiting for wishful thinking.
Somehow it’d all be alright.
Clouds darken, Water burns.
They all roll in with the times.
Marching to the beat of the invisible rhythm.
They have come to take you away.
All my anxieties seep in from the past.
They have come to take you away.
Filed under: writings | Tags: complex, fantasy, immagination, like, poem, poetry, simple, that, writing
It’s just the way it is.
The way it all unfolded.
It’s like walking on naked flames.
Like dancing with four left feet.
A crazy heartbeat wrecking your rhymes.
It’s simple like that.
Every stream of flashing light raises a pulse.
It’s the echoing of the melody.
A fantastic voyage home.
The pacing of pleasant imageries.
It’s simple like that.
It’s the perfect solution to a flawed plan.
It’s the joy in imperfections,
The holes on a leaky rowing boat.
It’s the silence served on a painted platter.
Seal with a kiss and all the best of wishes.
It’s simplicity just like that.
It’s the watching of the clock,
As the seconds trickle in slowly.
It’s the comprehension of our every intention.
It’s the simple calculation in a life so fickle.
It’s simple like that.
I’m simple like that.
Filed under: writings | Tags: caution, fantasy, kingdom, mirror, poem, rear, silhouette, stealing, stole, thief, view, writing
He who stood there wringing his hands.
He who stood with a wicked smile,
With malice intentions,
and mischievous thoughts.
Peer through the rear view mirror,
Trace his lonesome silhouette.
Watch the poison through his veins.
His body turning blue.
His mind is tainted with sheer delight.
The thought of eternal bliss.
His genius and all his glory,
Embedded in the notes of the memory.
In his world, the sky is never gray,
and the horses will never come.
He is the crowned in his kingdom.
Hand on all he had ever dreamed.
Filed under: Favorites, writings | Tags: break, epilogue, fantasy, flowers, I, imagination, interlude, nature, philosophy, poem, poetry, ship, space, while, writing
I’d like to dream a little while,
Pretend not to know me,
and walk by a little while.
All the best you’d wish me,
All the little while.
A little while.
/
I’ve tried to live the simple life,
Tried to be worry free.
But a plague returns to haunt me,
Reaches out a hand to pull me.
I’ve rode a broken spaceship,
On a quest to return home.
But I’m always sidetracked bound,
Distracted by the pretty flowers,
I always wind up all alone.
These flowers on the road,
They stain my very conscience.
Forgive me if I’m misleading,
It’s only because I’ve misheard.
The songs we used to sing out loud,
All flutter and fade away.
We are as tight rope walkers.
Watch the steps that we take.
Walk the line, hands unfold.
Break away, Don’t look back.
/
Spill a facade.
Till night fall.
Watch the universe,
She surrounds.
The inevitable truth.
Breaking.
