All entries for October 2009

October 24, 2009

Written at Camp While Watching Trees Half Immersed in the Lake

Friday, 08 August 2008 at 00:08

Like a tree whose daily ablution is eternity
I feel my roots though I may not see
Ever in transience like lake tranquil
Yet bound to form as I orbit by will

Though the wind forever change
And danger light and fan its fire
May voice and music celebrate range
And a love crescendo ‘tween us transpire

Let the sterile past like autumn wither
And sorrow diffuse like sweet perfume
Let matured desire send angels bring you hither
Fervent prayer guard us then and distance exhume

Visions I am privy to like silhouettes so far away
Be they entrusted by inevitability or delusion
Hope’s entourage honor me by their stay
Till tempest compel them leave journey-bidden

In My Image

Saturday, 23 August 2008 at 02:21
God only uses 10 pecent of His brain:
A hundred joys, some thousand pains!

Song: You–phoria

Thursday, 04 September 2008 at 23:37

Moving on don’t pierce me
Even looking at his face
There’s a new phase for me
A cheatcode through this maze

Those frantic lips cant hurt me
Even curses ‘pon my name
From his shadow I glide free
No resent at playing his game

Through the mist on hills high
The gallows of distance
Enlist in Hopes Resistance
For the grail in my minds eye

I fell light for You

Reaching Out

Friday, 05 September 2008 at 16:03
Find your solace in my assurance
And your victory in my prayer
May anger teach us Tolerance
Let me seem not intrusion but there

Though the wages of human rages
Inspire us to be numb
Lets Wisdom’s pages of the ages
Teach us not to succumb

I dream not of the doorlessness
Of soulmate’s free exchange fortress
I do not claim to master you
Curiosity, Greater attachments do not ensue

Not every conversation or social nicety
Is a damned indication of desperate loss of dignity
Unintended connotation’s ignorant of your reality
Whats your secret to me, when every life is misery


Sunday, 09 September 2007 at 20:51

I felt like silt flowing freely
Upon the tides of mountain Springs
Till the water that took me so high pounded upon me
Like Blood that rushed within battling its confines
Rendering me senseless
The mind knows naught but a vague ennui
A unison of passion and stillness
Blending into a passive turbulence
That evades the minds grip on reality
Like incessant applause
That ululates insanity
Filling the caverns of ravaged senses
Until it all freezes like a glacier
The dirt forever to be embedded in thought
Spirit to forever vanquish in muck

Sacred Grove

Tuesday, 20 November 2007 at 18:44

When I look at someone or something, as is when we all do, an image of him or her or it is projected in my eyes. What if muse, or thought or memory were to fill it as well? Isn’t it beautiful and yet does it not scare you, like you are exposing a sacred grove to the fumes of exploitation, and how many times would you catch me with your image in my eye and would I be able to bear the image of your aversion towards me?

A Supplement for Coffee

Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 00:56

Morning broke the listless contagion of the night and silky sunlight made smooth the shadow creases until they vanished from the garment of day which now shone through the slayed oblivion.
The fragrance wafted through like fresh waffles and maple syrup, the welcoming sickly sweet that accompanies the memories of the grieving as their minds diffuse into recollections of little known origin.
The wood was cold and tender to the sacred caressing; just as in the yesteryears dark and cooling to the senses like cucumber upon inflamed eyes that have been stung by too much life, too much love.
He sat at the wood, his eyes gleaning as nostalgic muse played with his heartstrings. All these years had come in between them, so many surpassed trials and he still was incredulous at how every obstacle failed to separate them, in sickness or in health. These thirty years had not been easy. He sipped his coffee and took in the odor that would accompany him to his dying day that which he’d never part with, and celebrated his steady marriage with the coffin in the morning.


Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 00:58

Everywhere I hear voices, gushing in like the all too loud murmurs emanating from Poseidon’s bounty. Still they are oddly synchronized, brought to strange harmonies like the ululations of the water which is a tribute to the myriad world we permeate in our slumber.
Rising and falling, reaching an intrusive crescendo, all at once in a million different ways that inanely unite. Here, the grinding sound of metal blends with the hymn and no distinction is known as it blends into the manuscript of time, into the million bars and measures that can only selectively touch the mind and yet overwhelm to tears and insanity.
The oratorio is a nebula of itself, weaving entirety, clarity, but appearing to us a vision of perplexing infinity from which men are exiled, a plethora of all that is important yet trivial.
It compels the martyr to a cause of even questionable implication to give up life and yet desire a “beyond”, an umbilical chord to the song from which we will never emerge distinctly conceived or divorced.
Wholesome, and yet corrugated by corruption.
In the midst of this chorus and the tabernacle of eons stands the conductor, the dichotomous artist who conducts all sound and weaves the extension of himself which he loathes and aches for in the spirit of confounding divinity.


you died in my tears….
and can only resurrect in my smile….
here only will u be master of mortality….
here alone by your actions….
here merely as a part of my precious life

Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 01:03

Thoughts on Thriving

Never stop writing, to me expression is like breath, but it sustains not existence snuck into flat chronology but thriving….

Saturday, 26 January 2008 at 01:03

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