It (Free Verse)

It does not chase boundaries, it breaks them
No questions are asked, only prisoners taken
It resonates endlessly, regardless of returns
Finding hope among all broken bits of past
It yearns to put the pieces back together anew
Triumphant, to restore dreams of plans forgotten
It formulates new passions among those it seeks
Call it not foolish, for by definition all is undefined
It is the greatest of these that will transcend time
Hurts, Wants, all of these are quelled by its path
It is belief, beyond the most measurable of doubts
Comfort, in the stead of selfishness, Altruistic faith
It wants not what it can take, but what it can bring
Mysteries, late night conversations, a million facets
It is not rational, nor does it profess to be such
But it waits when its called upon, because it is strong
It means more than its shallow physicality suggests
Mountains, miles, no chasm is deep for its reach
It lends understanding all encompassing, even in doubt
Once believed, its grasp is seldom easily shook
Its mark is left upon every heart that drinks it in
Still again, is its mystery, fresh air,  cataclysmic depth
It doesn't end in death, nor silence, nor anything
Instead it goes on living,  the truest form of breathing

Lamp Post(Free Verse)

There's a lamp post sitting silently by the road
I remember it there if ever it crosses my mind
To guess, the time is early dusk or twilit morning
These are the memories of my soul before pain
Later I found out donuts were being made inside
Pastries of all sizes, I imagine the smell of sugary air
The evaluation of this dream, Be it as a memory
It puts to focus my days and nights, my struggles
Every bad wave, is one you chose to ride, As I
Have always ridden my own, Save once I danced
In fires, Because I believed in the Great Question
What if, and why doesn't every dream end in bliss
Naivete gave way to desire, I chased hearts, or
Other things that started with the letter H, However
I played it wrongly, as was often my course, I ran
People don't often stop to think what makes them
Happy anyway, They just chase something from a
Book, And they say you gave up your self respect
But I give fortune to all mysteries upon the road
Whether for seasons or days, I remember fondly
If there were a fifth dimension, it would be feelings
Which as far as I know cannot kill you, though they try
People often lie when asked what makes them move
But I like paintings where the color, Its out of the lines
And though I cannot explain it, I am moved mostly
By what I fail to comprehend, Ordinary is a dull word
People who live in glass houses, That is their respite
But give me passion, The things that will burn you
Will also make you feel the most of what life brings
Tears, Joy, Love, Pain, Epochs of a complete journey
If nothing takes your breath away, Then it does not live
Itself, but rather it operates as an orchestrated clone
I think I will sail all the seas and eat sandwiches at dusk
For why not am I here, but to enjoy these peculiarities
The Great Mystery perhaps, but I think the road is lost
Because people, search for what makes sense instead
Intrigue, the last dying art, Unfinished painting in the last
Gallery, Because Art is dead, Or dying, Who will ever
Bring it a cure, Remind its younger self about lamp posts
That or, Whatever other fond memory started pulse
If you're searching, then stop, For the chances are great
That your query will be unfound, Instead dive into the ocean
Let whatever it is you've been looking for, Find You

Tiny Threads

Oh treacherous heart, You foul beating beast

What makes you so quaint, yet far more merciless

Than I have the threads of reason to fathom with

Your disruptive Discordia, Your anguished woe

It breaks me again and I am afraid to go to sleep

Lest I lose some tragic flaw that I grasped once

And held tightly as I traveled the roads of sorrow

Again I say, Never did I will it to be of this way

Before I held all that I knew to be of any value at all

Though when I opened a broken hand it was gone

Seems that everything that you must hold on to

Has a knack for breaking you as it slithers further away

Yet still I war, I war with a heart both raw and tender

This is ever the only answer for how I know to be

Foolish though I look, I see the world quicker than sound

And I worry not what judges roam, feasting upon my tide

Chivalry of a Song

I did not ask for this fire inside my veins
Yet I stitched it there for a slow release
And every step I took to a better place
It unravels when I stand outside the door

My breath catches tight in the evening sky
Palms are quite sweaty and heart apace
Though I'm not noticed again this night too
And I repress, I subdue, naturally it is so

What I've come to find is all but unbinding
The ties that hold it together hidden at night
By a blanket of doubt, some other insecurity
And still I pour what warmth I have to bring

Don't feel bad for me, who made this choice
My violin swoons fearlessly against the wind
That its broken silence might shatter chains
To free away a child, the woman in my dreams

We're riding the ferris wheel, on different seats
One car after the other looking out into the sea
Contradictory images from the same damn pool
What appears to be different, is a face or name

And I come here often, will long as I can tell
That caring fondly, is seldom about my needs
If I could do anything, I would do it all the same
Regardless of endings, some fairy tales are real

 



 

Why Not?

 What are you afraid to lose?
Why are you scared to fly?
How come? How come?

If tomorrow is just a wish,
If yesterday was just a memory,
Why cannot today be your breath?
How come? How come?

Birds soar higher when they are unafraid to fall
The wind is much sweeter when it does not taste of doubt
And the only thing stopping you is voice that does not ask:
How come? How come?

It's Not That Easy.....It's What You Make It

And somewhere, silence knew less bounds

Crushing were waves in their emptiness

So I crushed them back, Behold I bellowed

Has anyone seen sadness, I like that song

Hungry are children gone to porridges

Their weight is kept loose by their many woes

Wishn’t we had not certain choices to make

Waiting on trains, perhaps long left the station

But I came here, A traveler past his welcome

The scholar said, ‘It is all one or the other’

Horses only ride, Men only lie, Damage is blue

Somewhere though, People see in rainbows

Romance boasts its bare stallion in the court

Spit in the jester’s eye, though he likes it little

Long asked were riddles, answered by none

Some, all they wanted was their scrupulous claim

Oh silent whisperer, standing through the tears

Who sends his heart ahead of him, and still

That morning’s changed a hundred years or more