What does one write about,
The one who has written it all?
No love to reflect on,
None to recall.
Has it truly been so long?
The season has dried me out.
Normally, oh so free would these fingers,
Wane the keys into the board,
And out-coming sweet music,
From those mature fingers, they'd pour.
Outlasting the normality of the seas,
Oxygen and hydrogen flying with ease.
Oh how the snow has dried me out,
And taken the storm by authority.
Oh, give me back sweet libetry.
Water to fill my pores,
And absorb into my soul.
Dream of the spring.
A blank monitor with white all about,
And words waiting to be written,
It is like my life for now.
The glimpse of sorrow soon to come,
And frustration.
Why does this mind rest so off ease?
Each night I sleep, writhing within the sleeves.
Oh the warmth of the covers, to lull me there.
To pass the care away and say,
That's it's time for a break.
Jan 24, 2011
It was when
It's beneath a bridge that I once knew.
I was traveling a long time ago through that region.
A pocket of space in my endeavors, an area where I settled down.
There, by that bridge, my life revolved around it.
And so many stories were made there.
Eons ago, it seems, as if it weren't yesterday?
That bridge held my hand and gave me soft kisses.
It once told me that I could sing forever, and melt the trees.
With such an envy that made birds become the rocks,
And I could sleep there forever, just me and that bridge.
Time would evade our space, just wrap around our bubble.
Like a bull run but so gentle around its borders.
I was told that I could hold therein an eternal rest,
And my unhappy feet could live in coexistence with my happy spirit.
And soon, finally, each part would feel love.
Sometimes, I'd smell the breeze of fragrance, flowers giving me their love.
And bumble bees of the softest cloth, nuzzling my face.
With their purity and their generosity.
My few soliders, a protective pact because of that bridge.
Oh my sweet, long-lost bridge, where my heart rests.
Those memories of such a time just break my heart.
I feel the pain, yet it's not apart of this body.
There, it is felt and inside that bubble, a disease spreads.
I want to return, but my tears won't let me look back.
I can only keep going, and moving without you.
A tainted amulet of the past, a bridge.
The ghost of my past lying broken, by the seige of time.
I never knew that I couldn't live there forever.
And that my soles would walk on without me.
That heart of mine, stuck there in that pocket of perfection.
My innocence, well, it's beneath a bridge that I once knew.
I have a phantom purpose inside of me, and it knows what I don't.
I sense deep things for me, but yet know nothing.
I was traveling a long time ago through that region.
A pocket of space in my endeavors, an area where I settled down.
There, by that bridge, my life revolved around it.
And so many stories were made there.
Eons ago, it seems, as if it weren't yesterday?
That bridge held my hand and gave me soft kisses.
It once told me that I could sing forever, and melt the trees.
With such an envy that made birds become the rocks,
And I could sleep there forever, just me and that bridge.
Time would evade our space, just wrap around our bubble.
Like a bull run but so gentle around its borders.
I was told that I could hold therein an eternal rest,
And my unhappy feet could live in coexistence with my happy spirit.
And soon, finally, each part would feel love.
Sometimes, I'd smell the breeze of fragrance, flowers giving me their love.
And bumble bees of the softest cloth, nuzzling my face.
With their purity and their generosity.
My few soliders, a protective pact because of that bridge.
Oh my sweet, long-lost bridge, where my heart rests.
Those memories of such a time just break my heart.
I feel the pain, yet it's not apart of this body.
There, it is felt and inside that bubble, a disease spreads.
I want to return, but my tears won't let me look back.
I can only keep going, and moving without you.
A tainted amulet of the past, a bridge.
The ghost of my past lying broken, by the seige of time.
I never knew that I couldn't live there forever.
And that my soles would walk on without me.
That heart of mine, stuck there in that pocket of perfection.
My innocence, well, it's beneath a bridge that I once knew.
I have a phantom purpose inside of me, and it knows what I don't.
I sense deep things for me, but yet know nothing.
Jan 9, 2011
S
School is over in two weeks. It's time for me to spread my wings and grow with the universe. My life force is ready to expand and spread over the earth like a benevolent conquest. In my heart, there is such a beautiful lotus flower and it is finally beginning to reach the point of slowly opening up.
I can't wait to see what it's like to live the lotus. Much time before I am open and free, but I am ready to be this way.
I can't wait to see what it's like to live the lotus. Much time before I am open and free, but I am ready to be this way.
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