writing

It doesn

It doesn't end here...

Round and round forty five yellow moons 
Through the inside and back until it stops
Again
Faster and more clear
Again
Once more for old times sake
Again
Now it's all around and completely formed.

Six have stayed
and all but one have been here before. 
Together they jump
Over and under
Down and into
What they will become
And forget where, what and why
but does it matter?
Not to them.
They will always be and have always been,
Home.
Dreams and Other Worlds

Dreams and Other Worlds

Where do our souls go when we sleep?
Do we float around this world
while our bodies rest quietly in our beds?
Do we create?
Do we imagine?
Do we repair or renew?
How does the soul return to the body?
Or was it always there?
Or was it spread out like a sheet and
then folded up after waking?
Can, could or what if my soul
was to split into two?
Would I become two
or just one from two points?
Does it matter?
Sure, I say it does. So what is it?
Belief in something bigger than you cannot
be explained but only felt
as a reality in one's heart.
Seek not the equation
but rather the balance of it.
For the equation does not actually exist.
It acts only as a rule of thumb
but cannot be defined or categorized.
Only balanced and felt.
In and out, up and down,
here and there, one and all.
Breath.
You're still alive aren't you?
Two 4 One

Two 4 One

Two 4 One
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Perfect Harmony

Perfect Harmony

The wind is calm the air is soft

The sun is setting and the ground is warm

Beams of light trickling through blades of innocent grass

The storm forgotten, the rain lost

There is no end, nor a beggining 

All that counts is the present

The hands are frozen as the warmth grows

So long has been the wait, so much has hardened

Turned away and sheltered, protected from within

All this to be forgotten, then  to be reborn

Like the sand after raging battle on the beach

Divided and torn apart, then to be embraced with a gentle wave

Washing clean the coarse and disordered sand

Giving thus a new life, a new hope

With no means and no knowledge

Comming closer like a gentle breeze 

Flowing movements, but at a rhythmic pace 

The feeling grows like a outstretched hand

Longing for revival, longing for forgiveness

Pain and hardship left behind

The day has come, the time is near

The final piece in an endless puzzle

Together for all

Lost for none

Cycle

Cycle

It is always in a cycle of restriction and release

We call it many different names 

We abuse it, lie about it, and worst of all we deny it’s truth

It has no preference

No desire but ours

No choice but what is so

It holds purity but has been covered with personal fears

It holds promise and inclusion but has been split into pieces

It has no owner, no name or qualifications 

But we continue to label and preach our interpretations

We hold it in our hands but deny it’s possibilities

We give it away in hopes of someone picking us up

We sacrifice it in hopes we won’t have to awaken

We sleep in hopes we won’t have to guide our lives

We deny the truth of it in hopes we won’t have to question ourselves

We create chaos, war, hatred, and pain because we fear it can only go so far

We live inside our comfort zones and separate ourselves from eachother

It will always be and always has been. 

It can be restricted but will always be released.

Distortion

Distortion

I have a collection of writing that I have done over the past ten or so years of my life. This is one of my earlier pieces while I was still in high school and obviously wasn't having a great time in my CAPP (Career and Personal Planning) class. Please enjoy this look back into my younger years...


The picture is my 2003 yearbook photo... If you couldn't tell I was a bit of a angry teenager. Oh, high school. :D 


Distortion


as soon as i step into the classroom 

a wave of penitrating heat 

makes me feel dirty and sticky

the air in the class is stale and hard to breath

my seat is right beside the heater

It pours out hot air like a needle slowly taking blood

It strips me of all my energy and awareness

i become naucious and forget why i'm there

my head slowly dips down down down

eyes are heavy and everything is blurry

slowly closing it feels like all my worries are gone

Like a boy holding a hundred marbles over a lake

letting them fall slowly downward

One at first then a few more 

then he...

Reasons

Reasons

The words of nothing do nothing

But in what is nothing, to some is everything

This will be nothing to you who pays nothing

Why do some just look, while others waste and learn

Words are few, ideas are many

To combind the two is nothing more than what we will become

One will watch and wait for nothing to happen

Time will pass yet none will change

This is nothing but time in short

Fewer the Learners

Greater the knowledge

Less in look

More in substance

Today

Today

Today is nothing

Today could be pleasing

Today might be amzing

And today isn’t everything you always wanted

For today is only what you make it

And today I want it all.

Conflict

Conflict

The fear of fault or anger in another, is a deeper message

At the root of fear is a longing for growth

At the root of anger is a longing for understanding

Know this truth and it will set you free

Find your growth and open your eyes to understanding

And personal conflict and dilemmas will cease to hold you

For all conflict is growth disguised.

Comparison

Comparison

There is only one man I am better than

That is the man I was yesterday

For in the act of comparing, you actually loose value

For each life is perfect and evolving at it’s own pace

This truth eliminates the fear of worthlessness

And for every truth revealed is a fear forgotten.