Looking Beyond ForeverWhere does it lead?The road past the rolling hillsThe flowers and the sunThe clouds moving on beckoning us.Wide is this pathA single way falling into the horizon,A lonely journeyI long to walk this pathTo run towards the end but never reach it.The wind invites you to come with it along this road.
Earth ForeverTime ever flows onThe universe still expandsWe are but a blip
People Relax in the SummerThe patina of summerOverlaying the EarthThe people and the citiesMask the movement at our feet.The birds in the sky- the animals belowAll flowing like water around usChanging while we sleep.The ocean tides-Grasping at the moon,The air-Dancing with the trees,The sun-Aging over time,Our time here-Drawing to an end.Nothing is ceasingDespite our still mindsOur patina of summer.
Summer's Phantasm SongListenIn the breeze the cricketsThe fairies light their lanternsAnd the soft glow of nightOr our collective imaginations- radiates
The Best RelationshipOurs isA love unfitted,But full and strong.Since it is while we sit in our own roomsOn the opposite sides of the worldNot knowing we exist.We imagine our life together so sweet,Who are we to have reality ruin it all?
A Narrow RoadLong walksDown a narrow roadWith my past at my heelsMy future out of reachThe present always catching up.
ChildI am not finished with my childhoodI am not out of my wondermentMy knowledge cannot fill upLike a cup. It does not overflow.I will never grow beyond my imagination,My youth is internal, beyond my bodyBeyond my soul and beyond this world.The young ones here are forever.
OursWe come together, and we fade away.We are always here, but we cannot stay.It is what we love, it is what we are.The destiny of everyone, but ours aloneIs what matters to today.
The SunThe sun is shining on the sidewalkOn Tuesday, after school, after warAfter a child is born, and a man dies.The wind that blows in the cold brings in the new warmth.The rain gives life as it helps destroy. The universe that begins becomes to an end.The same sun that shines on the sidewalk shines on our skinOn the soldier and the killer,Everyday.
teen sitcomshe's a carousel of lovers; bow before homecoming queenbuilt from holy Roman marble and a pound of Maybelinea hundred cameras catching teeth; unconscious girl out the doorfriendship bracelets slipping off and melodrama turns to gorecherries popped beneath high-heels; pulses slow down to a crawl no more teacups, dolls are gone- big girls play with alcohol
ShadesI'll lay you down upon this bed,Eyes blinded with a strip of black cloth.I'll take my time to circle around you.Enjoying the light aroma of fear and sweat;Mixed with just a hint of excitement.I'll see your legs pushed together,Perhaps in anticipation.Or would it be the butterflies;That dance a shade of scarlet upon your cheeks.I'll take my time to run these fingersAlong your soft milky white skin.And even before you part your lips to confirm it,I'll already know that you belong to me.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
RainShe was bloated, swollen in herOwn melancholy moistureThreadbare at her contoursUnravelled into gray woolenStrings, too loose for her skinAnd they drained off her shouldersTo pool in a waxy heap by herIvory heel-bones.She was rounded by opaqueMoons, liquid apricity. The lifeIn her womb churned, awakeningFrom quiescence. Her beingShuddered from the maelstrom withinAnd in a great wailing cry of woeHer waters burst in a ferociousDeluge, catharsis.She roiled under each contractionAs unearthly poetry thundered from herThroat, emblazoned with lightning. HerChild is birthed, swaddled in her failingBody, decrescendo heartbeat.And as the babe breathed, the windAbandoned her shallow lungs,Cadaver cumulus.
The Night VisitShe arrives on time each night,With a flurry of quick footsteps, Followed by a timid knock at my door.The reply I give her is often curt,'Enter,' I'll sayAnd she does.I spend a moment taking stock of her appearance:Noticing bare skin beneath a heavy brown coat.A few droplets of sweat run down her neck,And she swallows nervously as she awaits my instruction.I approach her slowly;Enjoying this moment where the distance closes.My eyes take their time to pull her into focus,And like a bolt of awareness she becomes vivid;Her lips a sparkling red and utterly lush for a kiss...Her eyes are doe-eyed and completely tame;Her makeup is perfect, as I've always liked.But I can tell, beneath that flawless surface,That it was rushed under a dim streetlight.At this point our lips are separated by a bare inch,I like to leave this distance as I stare into her eyes.I enjoy the way her breath quickens as I ask her the question,The question that beg
The Death that is Left BehindI.Somewhere beneaththe layers laid,alone is a man who scrapesoutward. He islike the child fallendown a deep well, whosees the way is up and yetscratches stone wallsinstead--the flesh offingers giving way, symbolizinga waning vivacity sealedin the center of his diamond-hardshell. II.Sound is a physic; music, a friction--white hot motion to motionless souls. It is pain and heat, terribleand beautiful, healing, and the deaththat is left behind.
progress reportthe astronauts never returned and neither did the newsin my hands i fold a megalithic pigeonthe take-home message is: the cosmos is a cold dead bitchas you sleep under magazines, waiting for nothing.in the shackles of a sterilized den, there's an actualmastodon heart, pale and glassy pink, icy filmtightened like a fist; - and the scientists despair: it's the morning of the opening,then the few slashes of paralyzing waves.like a sign we'd make when we were younger, a way to disarma bandit, or a preacher or the oncoming horde of space invaders.but the drawings you sent to venus never returned, and now the crack, and the scientists at a loss before the angered public.they release a report that states that the floodgates opened by themselves, that the valves erodelike the chalky sand that will swirl and hiss
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the KnightWhose armor shines so bright.Give me the Knight,Whose armor is dull and broken.Whose horse is weary,Whose heart is heavy.Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,For that dragon has done nothing,And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,But wants to free the dragon,Who does not wish to marry her savior--Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,Who wants to live and to learn.For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,But to see the world and live in the light.Do not give me the evil dragon,Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.No, give me the dragon who is weary,Who longs for the freedom of the sky,Whose leg is burdened with chains,And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,Lest h
AnimeAs soon as i saw Anime on Tv I was happy to see it played,I Like inuyasha, FMA, Naruto and many others but why?At 34 years old loving anime, isn't this strange?Loving Anime is loving someoneYou cherish it foreverUntil You die but Anime is Amazing what they can do today..Its in 2-D, 3-D and CG's But no matter what,Anime to me will always cherish me into my heart and soulWhen i was younger Anime never existed,Why?Anime will stay into the younger kids today,Anime Rocks,Anime will rule the world maybe someday?What can you do not without a pencil today?You Can draw Anime,You Can always give you're best shot to draw even if you're not good enough,True isn't it?You can put Anime on Tv, on a website about everything,Anime Kick Butt.
God's ArtRhapsody of the universeThe song and art of everything.And a pen strokeA brush lineA single noteOur place in that,And were too small to seeThe entire canvas.