Upon the waves you swim,
I stand amazed—
The will I survived, often provoked.
I almost called you a mystery,
I almost wrapped myself in myth.
Then one day, I opened a door—
A door to happiness.
But all I saw was light,
Draped in a pall of black.
Go away—
like the hounds of pounding sounds,
and all that surrounds,
a funny errand.
Voices I heard—
like a child wishing in the well,
like poker fishing in a dry shell,
a thought to prevail,
to excel, to pale—
but all is stale.
Go away—
your heart has had enough of me.
Leave me baffled, shattered,
clattered—still battling,
though I owned you,
you barely reckoned—
fairly, barely—hypocrisy.
Thanks for it all.
Was that all but a bluff?
Still, you were welcomed.
You can hit the wall—
that is your strength.
You hit the wall—
that is your courage.
You keep hitting the wall,
believing it will break—
that is stupidity.
You keep hitting the wall,
believing it will break if done wholeheartedly—
that is faith.
You keep hitting the wall,
believe wholeheartedly, and it breaks—
that is a miracle.
Faith is blind; it needs no reason.
Miracles are unexplained.
But only hard work can make a difference—
do not escape it.
Your will generates strength.
Your strength fuels courage.
Courage is often mistaken for stupidity.
Stupidity ends where logic begins—
or so they say.
Yet stupidity, with a little insight and courage to persist,
becomes faith—
and faith is miraculous.
moments ago u were here,
moments later u were no where,
but all i know is u live in me,
and those moments are now every where
And yet, those blossoms
Could never have given me
That moment—
The one that stole my whole night.
But I know—I am alive,
Blissfully amazed by the past,
Standing still,
Wishing it had lasted forever...
Like cluttering pebbles,
Like scrabbling Scrabble,
With rumbling parables,
Scything scythes
In haunted nights—
Losing pride.
Where shall I abide,
With ringing, ringing—
Babels in my head?
The precaution fades when we love this sound,
Joy no longer seems a reason to live for,
When the beats of a song flow out through the heart.
Hail! For we’ve learned to live,
Learned to dine with our instincts
Loath of meat surmounts the skeleton,
Who rides the heart, often mistaken.
There goes Cupid,
Aiming like a stupid,
Misses the arrow —
And falls into pits of sorrow.
Drunken Cupid, too late to dare,
Anomalies are all the story’s spare
Those nobodies mocked their own inefficiency
to ever grasp it —
and to compensate for their later understanding,
they wrote a few books —
which are of nobody’s use
What it was — don’t know,
and could never know till now.
A few weeks of surrender,
then lost — just a "habit" somehow?
And days pass,
like the distant hops of a rabbit.
But I disagree — I still
look into that well,
except now its water is dry,
and voices never return from the dark void.
I fill it —
in hope I might see my reflection again,
hear some topples,
the wobbling of waves —
all left behind.
But their turbulence still troubles
So-called 'dreams,'
which, much thought after a good hard death of the day,
vanish, apparently...
Loving my job. Weird."*
2) If we learn to walk on the straight path of truth,
we’ll never need to climb the mountain of lies.
3) In the meantime, I learned to mock my sadness,
and now, I don’t know what my smiles really mean...
"Bizarre! I stood past a mirror in my room,
when, after long, there I stood—
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