When the midnight sun shines,
against the pale backdrop
of the milky white hills,
you'll find me, treading softly
on lucid dreams and the
pinhole stars on the horizon,
keeping an earnest gaze, not stolidly
for I'm forever licking wounds
of times less grand, and tracing
the little roadmap of scars,
on the old skin I left behind,
every one a reminder of a younger age,
Now blood-stained parchment,
opened veins of hope, now sealed
with a purpose for the future,
now, again, and forever,
the pathway is clear, if only
I can find it.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Plastic Heaven
She never walks through that door,
No matter where it may be,
The depths of hell, to the
Precipice of heaven,
That person never resembles, the
Creation of the mind,
Even under the neon skies,
Those features are never lost,
Only disappointment reigns supreme,
Confidence disappears every time,
A slight glance reveals another,
Waiting for that message,
One that reveals everything but,
What you truly desire,
At the end of the day,
Its only a dream,
And where its best to stay.
No matter where it may be,
The depths of hell, to the
Precipice of heaven,
That person never resembles, the
Creation of the mind,
Even under the neon skies,
Those features are never lost,
Only disappointment reigns supreme,
Confidence disappears every time,
A slight glance reveals another,
Waiting for that message,
One that reveals everything but,
What you truly desire,
At the end of the day,
Its only a dream,
And where its best to stay.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Mermaid
The illusionist spreads his wings,
Lustful benediction
And the beauty of sedition,
On that orange flame sunrise,
my love was decided,
my love was derided,
I, Held upside down, by her pale
hands, strong with years of wringing,
And soon the crimson clouds,
covered the sky, tied by crescent
moons, and the stars
bled from my wrists,
Selfishly I wanted her,
at my own pace,
and yet the sun still rises,
while the yearning never ceases,
Benediction to sedition, truth
over hope, reality at the most pure,
an antidote for the masses,
still I reject the dawn,
an embrace the night.
Lustful benediction
And the beauty of sedition,
On that orange flame sunrise,
my love was decided,
my love was derided,
I, Held upside down, by her pale
hands, strong with years of wringing,
And soon the crimson clouds,
covered the sky, tied by crescent
moons, and the stars
bled from my wrists,
Selfishly I wanted her,
at my own pace,
and yet the sun still rises,
while the yearning never ceases,
Benediction to sedition, truth
over hope, reality at the most pure,
an antidote for the masses,
still I reject the dawn,
an embrace the night.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
June 19th
It has come to my attention finally over the years that I am very much the shell of someone I thought I used to be. How can someone say that? What does that truly mean? The shell of someone you thought you were...Well the way I can attempt to describe it is - I was never really myself in the first place.
I have never allowed myself the luxury of enjoying the gifts that I possess; this is not to say that I am better or more capable in any area or another over anybody - what is means is accepting my own person for who they are without fear of reprisal, humiliation, rejection or anger at what I think I ought to become or should be to satisfy others.
We all share a certain malady - no matter how prosperous or poor we are, no matter how self-assured or self-hating we are. The malady I am referring to is self-denial. It is a warm and comfortable place for all of us. Some overcome this sickness with sheer willpower and over the course of years and years of failing and trying again until they're able to finally discover a treatment for this disease - love of self. The love of self is not a cure for the disease, but rather a way to cope with the everyday pressures of trying to be someone else.
Now, the love of one's self may seem to many as a selfish or narcissistic notion, but it is not; rather it is the most selfless action a reasonable human being can take. Think about it this way, in your own experiences in life: when are the worst times (barring the untimely death of a loved one, and/or physical and emotional abuse from others) in your life most likely to occur? Usually these bad times or bad luck if you wish to refer to it as such, occur when we are at a level of self-hatred or self-denial.
It is during these times when we allow ourselves to engage in behavior that we would normally avoid - name your inner-demon - it will exist in you as well as others. In my opinion, it is impossible to truly love anyone - platonically, romantically, or in the general spirit of human kindness, unless you also truly love yourself.
It is this enduring battle that exists in all of us, including the very best of us. No one in the world is immune to this disease. All we can do as rational beings is to accept ourselves for who we are. Through the love of self, your true face can appear - we all wear masks to cover up the blemishes, the pockmarks and the self-perceived cavities in our souls. It is through the windows of our minds, our very own eyes, how we perceive what we believe to be reality. Looking outwardly from inside we learn much about the world around us, but very little about what happens inside.
I am certainly not preaching new-age garbage or religious gobbledygook - this is common sense. Common sense may appear to be in short supply for many of us in the human race, but it is not. It is the illusion of what we perceive to be reality that poisons the purity of common sense. Love of self can reassure us of the decisions we make, it can reinforce what we know to be right and true in our lives.
Once that feat - and it most certainly gargantuan - is accomplished, then we can begin to "be ourselves" around the ones we care about, we can show love, compassion, and understanding without having the burden of unduly worrying about how it appears to others around us. I am not advocating do whatever you heart/mind desires at any given moment - that is anarchy, and also another form of self-hatred. I am advocating the acceptance of self - for better or worse (it is to be hoped the former).
All that being written - I am as far away from that goal as the Earth from the Sun. But the realization of this idea has brought me closer to that goal than before. Here's hoping that anyone who may read this is closer to that goal or at least on the right pathway to get there.
I have never allowed myself the luxury of enjoying the gifts that I possess; this is not to say that I am better or more capable in any area or another over anybody - what is means is accepting my own person for who they are without fear of reprisal, humiliation, rejection or anger at what I think I ought to become or should be to satisfy others.
We all share a certain malady - no matter how prosperous or poor we are, no matter how self-assured or self-hating we are. The malady I am referring to is self-denial. It is a warm and comfortable place for all of us. Some overcome this sickness with sheer willpower and over the course of years and years of failing and trying again until they're able to finally discover a treatment for this disease - love of self. The love of self is not a cure for the disease, but rather a way to cope with the everyday pressures of trying to be someone else.
Now, the love of one's self may seem to many as a selfish or narcissistic notion, but it is not; rather it is the most selfless action a reasonable human being can take. Think about it this way, in your own experiences in life: when are the worst times (barring the untimely death of a loved one, and/or physical and emotional abuse from others) in your life most likely to occur? Usually these bad times or bad luck if you wish to refer to it as such, occur when we are at a level of self-hatred or self-denial.
It is during these times when we allow ourselves to engage in behavior that we would normally avoid - name your inner-demon - it will exist in you as well as others. In my opinion, it is impossible to truly love anyone - platonically, romantically, or in the general spirit of human kindness, unless you also truly love yourself.
It is this enduring battle that exists in all of us, including the very best of us. No one in the world is immune to this disease. All we can do as rational beings is to accept ourselves for who we are. Through the love of self, your true face can appear - we all wear masks to cover up the blemishes, the pockmarks and the self-perceived cavities in our souls. It is through the windows of our minds, our very own eyes, how we perceive what we believe to be reality. Looking outwardly from inside we learn much about the world around us, but very little about what happens inside.
I am certainly not preaching new-age garbage or religious gobbledygook - this is common sense. Common sense may appear to be in short supply for many of us in the human race, but it is not. It is the illusion of what we perceive to be reality that poisons the purity of common sense. Love of self can reassure us of the decisions we make, it can reinforce what we know to be right and true in our lives.
Once that feat - and it most certainly gargantuan - is accomplished, then we can begin to "be ourselves" around the ones we care about, we can show love, compassion, and understanding without having the burden of unduly worrying about how it appears to others around us. I am not advocating do whatever you heart/mind desires at any given moment - that is anarchy, and also another form of self-hatred. I am advocating the acceptance of self - for better or worse (it is to be hoped the former).
All that being written - I am as far away from that goal as the Earth from the Sun. But the realization of this idea has brought me closer to that goal than before. Here's hoping that anyone who may read this is closer to that goal or at least on the right pathway to get there.
Friday, June 10, 2011
June 9th
Gonna take it easy today, I work early tomorrow morning and I've been doing a lot of things that I shouldn't be drinking-wise. Very down so far today, and I'm hoping to turn it around before tha day is over. Writing has been going alright -though it's nothhing I'd consider some of my better work. To put it simply, I'm in the type of mood where I just don't care about anything. Let's change it!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Elusive
Tear on the hearstrings
O' goddess of fate,
Rip away the years,
long spent in
the temple of another's
love that will never be,
no water into wine, this
altar will forever be
stained with the blood
of sacrifices untold,
while the battle rages
inside the heart,
desperately fighting
an illusion of reality,
yet still the river runs deep,
from now until the seas boil,
and the skies reign with fire,
the truth will remain
forever unscathed.
O' goddess of fate,
Rip away the years,
long spent in
the temple of another's
love that will never be,
no water into wine, this
altar will forever be
stained with the blood
of sacrifices untold,
while the battle rages
inside the heart,
desperately fighting
an illusion of reality,
yet still the river runs deep,
from now until the seas boil,
and the skies reign with fire,
the truth will remain
forever unscathed.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Ode to Bus Stop Cat
O' bus stop cat, how willingly
you throw yourself upon my feet,
with yellow eyes a' glinting,
soft white belly exposed with the
expectations of some selfelss
offering!
Nay, he demands it! When the morsel
doth not come forthwith, behind his smooth
pads, pinkish and unthreatening,
five tiny raptor-like razors, become
unleashed in a rabid fury, although in
his heart of hearts it's all for show,
for bus stop cat cares not for you,
The clouds may burst and the sky may
fall, but on to the next lover he will
roam - indifferently as always -
for the next best thing.
you throw yourself upon my feet,
with yellow eyes a' glinting,
soft white belly exposed with the
expectations of some selfelss
offering!
Nay, he demands it! When the morsel
doth not come forthwith, behind his smooth
pads, pinkish and unthreatening,
five tiny raptor-like razors, become
unleashed in a rabid fury, although in
his heart of hearts it's all for show,
for bus stop cat cares not for you,
The clouds may burst and the sky may
fall, but on to the next lover he will
roam - indifferently as always -
for the next best thing.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Afternoon Storms
The gentle breeze,
rustles through the trees,
along the ground old
leaves, crumpled papers,
freshly cut grass clippings all
toiling along with wind,
creating a symphony of the city,
little sounds, each from
different places, all a
part of someone, dreams
attached to every one,
then single drop of rain,
begets another and another
until the pale concrete
turns black like the night sky,
washing away the day's work,
that smell of a wet sidewalk,
after a warm day, fills the senses
with new, a new chance, a clean slate,
the power of each drop,
splashing against the face of the
downtrodden, stay here now,
under the torrent, under the thunder,
crashing like a thousand shields
stare into the lightning, into the
eyes of Zeus, and the fear
dissolves as the storm passes on,
and all that's left is a
clear mind drying in the sun.
rustles through the trees,
along the ground old
leaves, crumpled papers,
freshly cut grass clippings all
toiling along with wind,
creating a symphony of the city,
little sounds, each from
different places, all a
part of someone, dreams
attached to every one,
then single drop of rain,
begets another and another
until the pale concrete
turns black like the night sky,
washing away the day's work,
that smell of a wet sidewalk,
after a warm day, fills the senses
with new, a new chance, a clean slate,
the power of each drop,
splashing against the face of the
downtrodden, stay here now,
under the torrent, under the thunder,
crashing like a thousand shields
stare into the lightning, into the
eyes of Zeus, and the fear
dissolves as the storm passes on,
and all that's left is a
clear mind drying in the sun.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Fertile
The spring rain, ever-present
in the dark storms of the mind,
melting away the squalid memories
of lost love and a forlorn heart,
flooding the desolate plains,
bringing life to the
delicate saplings of hope,
just now pushing through
the fertile soil,
like a newborn child,
learning to walk for the
first time, modest victories,
yet a break in the clouds
to reveal the sun, glowing
like a god's eye,
purging regret,
and bringing the new day.
in the dark storms of the mind,
melting away the squalid memories
of lost love and a forlorn heart,
flooding the desolate plains,
bringing life to the
delicate saplings of hope,
just now pushing through
the fertile soil,
like a newborn child,
learning to walk for the
first time, modest victories,
yet a break in the clouds
to reveal the sun, glowing
like a god's eye,
purging regret,
and bringing the new day.
June 5th
Another day, another instance of letting down friends. On the plus side, I did spend the entire week eating healthy, and not drinking heavily. My very life actually depends on me doing the right thing and choosing not to binge every single fucking night on alcohol. I've grown to enjoy low-sodium foods, so that's not all bad - it's just going to be a constant battle to stay away from the places I like where the alcohol flows and the girls flock like the salmon of Capastrano. *cough*
Yes, shenaniganz are my thing but I will have to learn to limit them for the time being and discover new pursuits that will be good for my body and soul.
Yes, shenaniganz are my thing but I will have to learn to limit them for the time being and discover new pursuits that will be good for my body and soul.
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