A Window to the Soul

The Mirror

2009-02-01T00:52:00.029-05:00

The poems in this section, "The Mirror," all, for the most part, pertain to myself. This could be my personal struggles (ie: my mind), the way I was feeling at the moment, etc.

Exhaustion

The daily schedule is to again be nullified
"I hunger for more!" my mind cries
Stimuli are a caffeinated food for my mind
The immortal day and perpetual stimuli bind

Pseudo-hallucinations
Artificial image creations
Waves of epiphanies
On the rough perception seas

Today becomes tomorrow morning seamlessly
I delve into my haunted mind aimlessly
Time flies yet never lands
Over yesterday, my memory never pans

When a break in life occurs forcefully
As exhaustion conquers the body overwhelmingly
The mind revels in freedom from reality
Cerebral images instead of what the timid eye sees

Core of Memories

False memories and restored hope
Dreams come and leave residual blue-grey
Half the time it takes me to sleep,
I could make a giant leap

Forgotten memories and lost hope
Dreams restore these thoughts but don't change the likeliness of pain
Winter months have brought some early rain
Delighted, stationary, soon to be fading hope I now gain

Forgotten dreams give me memories
Ineffable plots my enemy mind weaves
A tour through yearly memory wars
Unstable heart and core of thought soars

Follower of Autumn

Follower of autumn
Is the follower of my fulfilled desires
Equal to all beings
Karma rests in my soul

I know it's an illusion
I hope I'm delusional
An unwritten conclusion
I will try not to be curious

Transient feelings, omnipresent
The winter falsely theoretically floods my shivering body
In the theory I've conceived; Coming after my hope is fulfilled
Scrupulous and erroneous

Have Fun Quickly

Presents of emotion resonate in my ear
Voices of freedom and joy I hear
Vacation from reverberating fear
A trip to the glorious, judge-free place is here

Wandering throughout the heedless night
With no ghouls of September's fright
I wait in the watery fresh dew grass
Brain teasers and busy work will not harass

...

The middle of the hour glass was too thick
Too quickly came down the candle's wick
You can't have joy without haste on Earth
The memories it makes are what gives it its worth

Sleeping Awake

I'm sleeping awake
Hallucinate, fail to feel, fail to see reality
Perceptual eyes, my mind denies
A thought abnormality
I see crimson lakes and violet skies

Tin foil mirrors to see my battered face
A laugh from a morning bird
My eyes burn as if sprayed with mace
These intruding thoughts are absurd

Makeup won't fix my issues
Covering my razor bitten face with white tissues
I scream as I feel comfortable in my bed
I close my eyes but all I see is red
I can't remember what my memories said
I lie tortured in my sweat soaked bed

I Was Walking

I was walking
Walking into a dream
Cold air, yet torturous steam
Around every corner was a brand new thought
Yet nothing new for which I have ever sought
Aching neck, vapid hours
My sleep, my dream devours

Tonight I stand
Stand up for myself
Wander into frontier, wander into wealth
Old friends are then remembered even though chose to be forgotten
False memories engraved in my head will soon be rancid and rotten

When I awoke, I spoke
Spoke to myself, for an action to invoke
Invoke mental vigilance
And nightly silence
This I miss

That Feeling

There was a feeling I had once as a child
A view into the soul of a young daughter
On a slow passenger boat, she danced with a joyful smile
Naive, mysterious, magical, haunting

Although never at will, I can emulate a feeling of such nature
Nostalgic and painful
Forgetting to breathe, wishful
Carefree times flushed away into the void of an idle mind

If I could be lost in that feeling once again
I'd try to remember every detail
To provoke, to welcome, to invite this feeling
It would give meaning to a stale life of which I live

Now Is Then

Cool breeze through my body
Colder breeze through my mind
Now my heart is left gray
Now my mind starts to decay

The white ashes of sacrificial timber lie wet and cold
In what was once "now"
Driving down the curvy road was bartered and sold

"Now" is why I now die in my ice age world
"Now" was once then but will rarely be again
"Now" is spring, "now" is summer
"Now" is autumn, "now" is winter

I want control... now... and forever
"Then" will be history of before right now

Unfamiliar Faces

Wandering along the dreams that make us sane
Wondering what the dreams mean and from where they came
Waiting to see... to see the unfamiliar faces
Wanting to meet the people who fill in the spaces

Forever can seem so instantaneous and haunting, but free
For you can see the faces unfamiliar to everybody but me
From my lethargy you see people nobody has met
Forgiving them as you sit down and watch the sun set

Time has not played part in the role you sleep through
Timber's embers glow in your mind as you think what you'll do
Today there lingers dissonance of the dreams you wander
Tomorrow there lies dreams you somehow squander

Playing with the bed sheets and blanket I look up
Pondering images of people forgotten as I drink from a cup
Pounding in my mind, the people seem to ask for something
Playing with my eyes or mind who knows what they bring

Here I am lying down not on the ground but my bed
Here I look from side to side wondering what the images said
Here floats my dreams and the cool air above
Here nothing and nobody parts me from the people I love

Crying

It has rained almost everyday for the past couple weeks
When it stops, the cypress tree begins to stop crying
Crying people crowd the wet highway
Highway so experienced, unforgiving, and heads north and south
The bed is relief and the bed is playful and kind
It can control your mind to make you stay
Stay far away and your mind aches as does your body
You didn't see that person in the picture frame before?
Picture frame in your fatigued brain, you must be insane
It begins to rain again and there is now lucidness in your mind
Cool off in the spring shower, let the bird sing for you
For it is you now crying in the pain you dealt
Take refuge in your bed to mend your aching head

Fear

The tides of tomorrow will wash away hope
Summer days add a layer of sweet sugar to a sour lemon
And with each breath I take
With each meal I make
The fear of loss lingers over my heavy head
The vicious circle of human behavior
And each time I'll pray
I'll remember to say
To bless every life on Earth
For life will become obsolete
And when I lie in my bed
I'll remember what Mr. Warhol said,
"Everybody has their 15 minutes of fame."
Does this make life worth living?
Humanity seems like a soiled quilt
One that centuries of hate built
And here I am, a cynic
Making my pessimistic mind bleed fear

Like Glass

I'm not opaque
That is, not as much as I think I am
People are sometimes what they hate
But I don't hate

A show, a performance
To everyone, trying to romance
I'm inside-out, ugly, and obvious
The judges act tame, but inside are vicious

The more one tries, the more transparent they become
The more one tries, it seems the more they try, must overcome
Don't try, but be
I am not them, but me

One can only be opaque by being careless and free of what they see in the mirror
In the mirror I see my pseudo-self, mind and body dysmorphic
I'm opaque to myself
But to others I am like glass

Midnight Child

I am the midnight child
Free of constraints of time
Limitations set only by my body
The mind never rests, it is evergreen
The daily winter and summer of I
They are just as different as the annual winter and summer of the Midwest

Dreams come and go but overlap
Inducing false memories and confusion
My dreams disguise themselves as reality
Until their integrity melts away like an ice cube on a mild day
Life never ceases and never becomes dull
No limitations, the days are undefined

The day is forever
Sleep is my winter
Though dreams can be my summer
And conscious my winter
A subjective view on my life
I am the midnight child

Exasperated

I have complete control in my realm
Omnipotent and optimistic
Confident and proud
I am the most desired

I don't fear as I am indestructible
A bullet to my head
My vision turns red
Yet I am not dead
I am stronger
I am clairvoyant
Glorious and bestowed with universal passion for me
High on my power
Which then swallows me, and I collapse on myself like a huge star
I am now awake
I am now exasperated

The Muse

Te be a creator
To harness the power of thought
Vivid lucid dreams
Powerful gathering, gathering in a circle

Instant gratification, yet sought after in thought
Linguistics manipulation and ideas for which I have sought
I agree, I agree
To disagree would still be me

Compulsive collecting
Shared theories on everything
Gather 'round my family and friends
For this is where the elaborate journey begins

I, The Chameleon

I am a chameleon
Blending in to avoid judging predators
Unnecessary
But comfort zones in which I hide,
Is where I stockpile my egocentric pride

I am a chameleon
Blending in to make some friends
Necessary
Faulty, the friends I see,
Are not the ones for me

I am a chameleon
Blending in to ambush prey
Frivolous
Feeling better and superior
By falsely making prey feel inferior

I am flawed
Yet I have changed
I am no longer the chameleon
The path to my joy has been rearranged

Mass Confusion

Vivid dreams plague me
Wake up to mass confusion
Flooded by the crimson sea
Sigh, it was just an illusion

Dreams merged with reality
Dreams causing my eyes to stay shut
Dreams flooded by the crimson sea
Eyes into I feverishly cut

Where is the honored now?
Where is the sunlight?
Disappearing somehow
The day's emotions not so bright

Journey Through My Fears

Across the crimson sea I sail
To find my way back home
I meet Siren it starts to hail
We will meet again
I visualize a blue moon
Mocking the summer sky
Nothing like that may come so soon
Journey through my fears
Sugar coated onion you see
Cover your timid eyes
Examples of what not to be
Follow the path of all
Coldest nights left behind all you
What a waste of sand
I'm waiting for an ethics coup
Irony is on my side

Through my fears... I face even myself
Worried and pathetic and for what?
Through my fears... I face controversy
The book falls and the closet door is shut

Back home I sort through my mail
Lucid dreams obscured
Between toes grows a rusty nail
Ambiguous fears
Opaque glass shows me the right way
Smiling joker man
It figures what I have to say
Buried once again

Only those who know what will occur
Born and raised with our thoughts
May dismiss fate and change the future
Decide based on yourself

Taciturnity

A loss of words on the moon
Taciturnity is the jump, there, in contrast to here
Impossible to land in the same place
For exactness only occurs in our thoughts
Thoughts of sleeping hope
Filled with wonderful hope

Pointing the way without a finger
The lit path leads to nowhere
Each dark road has many red lights
Each dark road has many potholes
And the destination is unknown
I'm not thirsty all the time

Seeing the gesture during the eclipse
Hearing the sound of taciturnity
Whisper the words of the restless
Wallow in the fallacies of tranquility
Waiting to see what will be jagged
Wakening silence, sleepy noise

The Eye

2009-02-01T00:46:00.006-05:00

The poems in this section, "The Eye," mostly pertain to social issues, sanity, or personal opinions of mine on various subjects.

No Title

The pain from the swamps of teenage apathy,
Is a reverberating pain, nobody will be the same

Omnipresent psychopathic male teenagers...
Lament for their rude coming
Who are eager for the slow dripping night
Ineffable name of the young daughter's sins
Her slightly older boyfriend stands there and grins

Wildflower daughter anxiously awaiting self-satisfaction by means of selflessness
Exploited and veered away from the American Dream

The boyfriend looks at her and another girl during the now stimulating class
Breaking the silence, a sleeping noise
Around the blame then came...
A metaphorical crack of the ruler against the mahogany desk
No reaction; class continues

The Queen Bee

The mind of the brand new queen fades into the pitch black void...
She opens her eyes to return to a white nightmare
And as she gasps for air she momentarily drowns
Gagging and spitting; wicked laughter surrounds her

The queen is defiled and humiliated immortally
A victim of a dream that conquered the banal
She's a queen just for the much needed money
Running down her body is reproductive honey
It's not sweet
But it's what the swarm of worker bees secrete

She later returns to her throne, alone
The queen lies down, thinking, trembling
The queen's introspection,
Causes bound tears and a vacant, aimless stare
The bright ceiling light shines down on her face
She closes her eyes
Her red vision soon becomes saturated with hopelessness
The hopelessness turns her vision darker than pitch black

Subscription

An ongoing strife
With a subscription to life
Cancel it with a hesitant cut from a dark, cold knife

Slowly but surely we will all fall
While answering life's subtle clarion call
Grains of sand in humanity's unmerciful hour glass
Calibrated by immorality and social class

Waking up to a lifeless subscription is painless
But the subscription is boring, stale, and full of obsessiveness

Musical Thought Processing

Whistle the tunes of tomorrow
Listen to those of yesterday
Where one is driven by ambition and dreams
The other is influence and nostalgia
Some heard can bring a crowd
Others find the amicability too loud

A force of numbers driven by another's opinions
Which bleed and race along separate, impressionable tissues of sins
A clash with unsympathetic law
Here stops the opinions from all

Blood is soaked up by nothing this time
But, rather hosed off like insecticide coated, fresh, sour limes

Forgotten by some, the war of music and propaganda

Little One

Little one, don't worry
The world is just in a hurry
Rest your head on the synthetic down pillow
Play underneath the indifferent weeping willow

Cut the lies of the ties towards Earth
Where you play now will soon be of little worth
Little one, now is the time to panic
The people of the world have gone into a manic

Cynical Idealist

Walking past the moonlight
Into the dark, frozen trailer
There sits shivering people
Absorbing the pain and hunger around them
Passing into a new hope, which may be hopeless for few
And a struggle for all
When it stops it will either be good, exciting, and liberating, or ugly, stomach dropping, and lost

Ambition is the crutch for two broken legs
Struggle is as apparent as blood on an otherwise clean, white T- shirt
Would this be helpful to the name of freedom and liberty?
Or cause an angry giant to weaken and get down on it's fat knees

The color of green is far too far to be seen
And as moods are blue, employers are red in fury
Amicable family is there for a lift and support

Conceive of a world that won't be run by queenless ants nor a queen bee
Yet everybody be free
No gap between fat and anorexic
A birth of a new nation, a new world
I am an idealist, yes
But I am also a shallow cynic

A Mind Filled With Fate

The feces of the mind are eclipsing the cold, grey man's judgment
Past times were soaked in hatred and bitterness
Creating waste consisting of bacteria-like and non-nutritious laden memories

The mind is starting to decay
Responsibility for one's own actions
Geared up and prepared for the city's factions
Is this the price to pay?

Mass murderer, mind murdered
He cannot escape the sword fate wields

The Push

Push...
The fallen glass shatters and dust rises from the experienced wooden floor
Life passing before s too quickly to be seen
Confusion in the atmosphere centered on the remote hand
Acid drops from the similar hand
The man trips over his hands
Strobe feelings?

Red wine on the floor
The head opened the door
Remorse, none, gone, dead
The imbalanced head

Deceased...

Wabi-Sabi

Perfection: strive to be, already are
Flawed: a duality, a paradox

Everything is flawed, flaws are what makes things whole
Define an imperfect circle as a circle, then it's a perfect circle
Perfection is always flawed
Flaws are the substance that make perfection

Symmetry makes one jaded
It makes one not notice
One's memories soon become faded
Without sadness life would have no bliss

One vibrant-green brick in a stale wall of maroon
Off-center, low, and to the right
The face of the man in the moon
One's still able to see either even after losing their sight

Miss Office Title '72

She screams seemingly silently into the howling, powerful wind
Against a composite of prejudice, erecting a Goliath
Many blue moons have passed, she is where no one else has been

Against a bricolage defense formed from a junkyard of monstrous area
Enemies and brainwashed traitors and the duality of equality judge
A victory for her would cause male, white hysteria

The position she held, she did not clutch with full strength
Most her strength was put in storage for what others see as deprecated ambitions
She views these ambitions as pseudo-elevated, that is, normal, but seen by opponents as being great in length

The trial passed by in a hurry with much ado by the press
The verdict was in, her ethics sling was apparently too weak
Though, the people behind her heard her scream, and the revolution, they caressed

The Video Star

Taking an oath to kill the radio star
To bring a revolutionary medium for an evolving art
And to bring down the Western corporate czar
Entertainment for the future bleeding hearts

Slowly but surely the reality set in
A new soulless generation begging for instant gratification
Gradually the color green covers your greedy skin
Guilty pleasures and guilty of going on a permanent vacation

You're a parent of daughters who grow up not far from the younger tree
As soon as the young reach adolescence they conform to your current greed
Deviating from dual expression and then selling out in glee
Capitalizing on taboos and hate is the new life you chose to lead

Neologism

A word undefined may have its meaning mined
A word with meaning has its definition bleeding
Archaic eventually, but reincarnated creatively

Ambiguous words have no interpretation that is absurd
Subjective even in context, yet little modification to the word that's next
Anything can mean anything as long it brings an understanding

Creationism brings forth a vocabulary of neologisms
Words assemble into a life making a husband for an undecided wife
One who understands and takes human language by the hand

The Infamous Target

The man known by all is a target of ridicule
Hypersensitively judged and seen by many as cruel
Ravishing possessions and esoteric fame makes us jealous
Which may or may not cause our actions towards him to be zealous

Expectations beyond any of that which are human
Some don't see humanity but an object for lust and other sins
Omnipotence, some may see
A picture in a museum be he

A vow to a life without privacy
A vow to an opinionated mind with forced everlasting vacancy
Blamed once by one, forgotten
Blamed twice in public, blamed forever and deemed rotten

So Bored

A whisper from an unknown, ghostly source
A hasty look around reveals nothing
Lament for the body while the mind feels remorse
Only in the mind can it be heard or seen

Knocks coming from the dark back door
Whispers return in a haunting phase
The stimulated mind erroneously captures the demon's roars
Sending the nervous system into a craze

Tossing and turning stirs the bedroom that was just sonic-free
Sweat soaked and drained, waking up devours
Devours the dream, reaching for decaffeinated tea
A dream, a goal, to fill boring hours

Butterfly Effect

The delicate flap of a butterfly's wings
The hostile, grey wind sings
One life changed, oh so subtly
Will change the lives of everybody

Fate doesn't adapt to the change
Fate is clairvoyant, static, and prearranged
It knows even the most trivial things that each of us know
Not so trivial when the winds of death blow

Matter, energy, history, interactions
All control each and every one of our decisions
Ever-changing futures are a bloated lie
As we live under the forgiving sky

A life that's banal is banal because of a history of cowardice
Cowardly because of interactions with dominant males who have minds full of piss
Being a submissive male engulfs one's dreams because of negative energy of much worth
Energy programming grey matter and thus the matter of body and then Earth

The Niche

The niches of the networks never stop devolving
Throwing aside the Warhol voices singing
Pseudo-reality, the apple in the Garden of Eden
Appealing to apathetic drones and perfect tens

I watch, because of absence of meaning
I am a hypocrite, with my dignity screaming
Delving into the acted lives of others
Hiding my proud face underneath the deceitful covers

I digress, for I am one of many
Helping the soulless butterflies grab every penny
Caterpillars never taught to be themselves
Peer pressure placing the goal on the top shelves

There are always those who are faithful to the niche
Perceiving the slow, dripping metamorphoses of a loyalty glitch

The Man

The delirious man thinks the world revolves around him
Not superficially, not shallowly, not even egotistically
A false child of the Universal omnipotence
Put forth your philosophy into his wide open, impressionable mind

Cognitive thoughts and rituals hinder the hermit
Who dances around his home to incite sunshine in his mind
Scattered clouds, shadows, then light
Then, shadows again

It's almost like the world is a puppet controlled by his hands
Hands which are possessed by another being
It's all in his tortured, magical mind
Beyond help, whimpering, gambling with sanity as he compulsively says some words or thinks a ritualistic thought

Sometimes, Only in our Dreams

Tim and Elaine were two lovers
Dreams and goals stuffed deep under the chameleon covers

Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
Another nightmare, to Elaine, it seems
"What's the matter, honey?" She asks gracefully
"Nothing, Elaine, get some rest"

Tim walks into the bathroom and turns on the sink
Out it flows clear, clean water which he splashes on his sweaty, chiseled face

The shattering of glass!
The inserted memory of the past
Elaine lifeless on the bed
The mattress is stained crimson-red

"Who's there?" Tim asks while shaking
The sudden loud slam of the back door
He sees nothing
The haunting absence of a dial tone, his adrenaline soars

He darts over to Elaine's body quickly
Though he sees she's incapable of being saved as she lies there looking sickly
Tim, hungry for vengeance, grabs his pistol from the mahogany nightstand drawer
More inserted memories appear

Concealing the weapon, he runs to the neighbor's house
Knocking on the door, he gets the man's spouse

"Call the police!" Tim exclaims in panic
"What have you done for me, Tim?" She asks
Tim goes into a fit

Frantically running around suburbia
He sees no sign of the intruder
Until out of the corner of his eye...
A man is there pointing a pistol at Tim's head
Tim's head looks up at the sky

"Remember me?" The pistol wielding man asks angrily
The neighbor, whose wife Tim sought for help, is about to have vengeance and the last laugh
Tim repeats in his head, "No, no, no."

*Click*

Tim wakes up screaming from a horrifying dream
A drama king, to Elaine, it seems
"What the fuck is your problem, Tim?" She yells
Tim does not answer

He gets off the unnatural yellow mattress and goes to the bathroom
The rusty, grungy faucet pours out nightmares of brown liquid
Tim splashes it against his unshaven face
Police sirens are audible
Liquor bottles scattered around

Tim grabs one that's halfway empty and chugs it down
He's had enough dreams for tonight

The Everlasting Epiphany

An elevated state of mind
Sublime neurons of many
The heightened ability to perceive
An everlasting epiphany

To scale Mount Olympus
Opening a third eye
Lying wide awake in bed
Staring at the infinite sky

A half-constant realization
The meaning of life
Somewhat euphoric and fully aware
The human struggle and strife

Everlasting but breaking
Swallowed and digested by sleep
In your body and mind forever
It's the Enlightenment you keep

The Game

Athletic toning is as important as spiritual
A pre-game prayer is fitting
on the ball, the mind on the Heavens
Hoping to feel the post-game sting

The game for all glory and honor
The game where losers will play many more
The game for all eternal riches and Nirvana
Where the souls of the winners will soar

To Be

Be true to your soul and let it guide you
For there are thousands of years of two-faced people who conform to be a part of the survivors

Survival of the fittest
The fittest for battle
One mind to conquer life solely
Pure, pristine
Inner being washed clean

To be part of a militarily fortified kingdom
Is not the way to reach the kingdoms of spirituality
You are who you are and are not what your mind wants
You are what your soul wants
Listen to your family calling you
For they are your clique in lieu
In lieu of the false, changing people out to convert you

Handwriting

Handwriting is an art which everybody is equally talented in doing
Infinite styles and techniques which assemble into a meaning
A meaning usually lucid and flowing
A meaning consolidated from aesthetics and literacy
Inspired with the light bulb glowing
Perceiving any way it be

A language without letters:
Communication hindered
Spoken mind halted
Ignorance littered
Ideas assaulted
Ideas never sprawl
A primitive society
A structure of expression without a wall

This language would be no medium for me

Winds of Winter

The painful winds of winter blow bitterly cold
Marking doom for the mad shunned from their own mind or ambitions
Frost bitten
Lucid dreams are just that
Just dreams

Idea

An idea, put forth to creation
Immortal, brilliant in any aspect

Better Being

Sometimes chameleons are green
Sitting on an allied leaf
Camouflaged in their surroundings they cannot be seen
Capture and humiliate
Superior intelligence does not make a better being

Master Mind

Somber moods hereon age of twenty-two
The bang of something outside
Or was it inside?
He investigates to only find a rotting mind
Taking him for another adrenaline ride

Being the center of attention
In thought
Acting amicably in words, actions, and thought
Trying to impress in words, actions, and thought
He's just a slave
A slave with no master

Checking the digital footprints
No breadcrumbs left
Compulsory
The mind is the master
Unfit for relaxation
Sisyphus's descendant

Freezing

The cold of winter freezes the summer lake
Like the darkness of winter freezes our joy
Only the warmness of fellow man can thaw the frozen emotions

The Vanity Mirror Doesn't Make You Disappear

The laughing continues to expand in Haley's head
Getting louder and more insulting
And to silence it she has a vow to disappear or be dead
Ironic, body and mind melting

Abstinence from fueling herself daily
Expelling demons from her body artificially
The true demons remain inside, haunting Haley
With her own mind being her biggest bully

Body dysmorphic and self-conscious
Bleeding and tortured hourly and beat
Willfully starved for months and years, hence,
Her body surrenders from shock on the city streets

The Children's Mind

Children in a wasteland
A wasteland of chemical pollutants
A wasteland of emotional pollutants
Contorting the child's body and mind

The trauma of criminal parents and agonizing separation
The unrelated, hodgepodge family for children's rights judging the ones who care for them little, yet the most

The acorn never falls far from the tree
Exponential and perpetual assimilation
The impassive trees are more fertile
Addiction, the pain of false joy
Creeping up on the continent
Littered adults, hence littered youth

The Acorn that Fell Close to the Tree

Allusions to previous masters in the current master's mind
The tainted youth are victims of Stockholm syndrome
The thoughts razed and morals you will not find
Pillaging through child sanctuary with in hand a bottle of rum

Supportive only in the athletic mind
Knowledge forgotten or ignored
Even sold for a nickel and dime
As the lions of ignorance roared

Buyers Beware

Ignorance binds the hearts and minds of that which are of the generation of now and tomorrow
That which will live in sorrow
Apathy for the world and dreams of humans
For these are eclipsed by the rift of known men and women

The view into the lives of others
Golden accomplishments the media smothers

The Windows to the Soul

The only way to look into both of somebody's eyes is to look past them
Then, you stare into their soul and see the real person you're looking at
Eyes are a two way port
They may let you not seem so short
Eyes aid your emotions as do your ears
You can look at a picture and almost hear what's going on

Every Day

Life revolves around each and every individual day
Life is dependent
We feel the fluctuations of each day
Each day is independent

For some, every day is like a finger print
Each day leaving its own unique mark
For others, every day is everyday
Redundant and torturous

When looking back, the memories are like music to the ears
Like the unique crunching noise of a ubiquitously written on notebook as the pages turn
Nostalgia can at times be bitter-sweet
Yet makes us feel alive

The Profane

The sacred words of yesteryear are now profane
The profane words of the future are now sacred
The profane words of now will soon be indifferent

To Be a Victim

A body emits an aura
It can be many colors
Red with anger
Blue with sorrow
Yellow with hope

A victim emits a violet aura
As long as they think which they are labeled
A label for what they think
A vulnerable catch 22
Able to be defeated by an epiphany and self-reflection

Sever the worn ties to the present and past
Cast aside the self-pity and be
No one likes somebody who wallows in their own self- worthlessness
Of own circumstance, they are brought to naught
But when they have that epiphany, they will be something again
And then emit a golden aura

Crap-shoot

Living life is a crap-shoot, a cliché I know
And too high of a bet can leave you in the gutter
No wagers at all makes you no more richer of a person
Cheat, and someone will throw you out of the casino

Chaos in the Mind

Alone in a remote location
Tranquil but frightening
Feverish mind
Absence of life bleeds from the brain

A torture to many but a necessity to some
Escape from the solitary nothingness
The void
Or escape from claustrophobic dense life to the lake in the mountains

Different strokes
Boredom for both? No, chaos
Chaos in the mind from no one hearing your voice, body, or soul
Or chaos in and from the city which harmfully affects the mind

Deer

Deer
Majestic, innocent
Eat out of my docile hand
The deer untarnished by human contact
Humans meant to bring harm are shunned away

Dynamic humans
I once was harmful
Nature embraced me
Animals changed me

I cannot feel indiscriminate fear
I cannot see what I hear
I adapt
Which can potentially and ironically cause my fall
Yet I'm stronger

Snow in a Jar

Snow in a jar
Brought inside to the warm home
Symbolic for most life
Not human

To Awake

Hail Earth!
The human dream
To die is to awake
Trapped immortally in a pseudo-reality

He's the only one alive
He's the only one alive
What he sees is what he gets
What he thinks is what he gets

Brain waves monitored immorally
Eyes are like photo portals
Light traveling through his body indefinitely

To ask a question is to answer it himself
To meet someone is to have known them for years
For Earth is the human dream
But only one way to be certain
For him to awake

The Pillow

The pillow to hold one person's history
The pillow to hold the knowledge of ancestors
Fluff it often
It is the head's mother

Rejuvenate
Protect
Reflect
Heal

Hooded Man

The hooded man in black is a traitor to the human race
By his logic, he shall fall by his own hand
A rift in justice to come

The Journey Through Comprehension

The further comprehension expands
The more we fear our future
Now lusting for ignorance
A wasteful time in the expressive species

Life brought to naught by ambition
A gun to the head because of human desecration
History and actions crueler than previously known
The American 50s wore a leather S&M hood

We will never know the suffering of man
Until the new world comes around
Brought by arrogance
Brought by ourselves

The human comprehension evolution expands minute by minute
It may soon evolve to naught
With so many triumphs for which we've fought
Which will be nullified and erased from history
Immortal structures razed
An undefined history
Because of brilliance bound with arrogance and crazed

The evolution of human technology
Depends on our universal comprehension
The minds of the geniuses
To be put on either infinite or non-existent gratitude pension

A moth to a candle
And humanity to comprehension
Attracted to which can potentially destroy
Instinct, intrigue, or fun

Hungry for a white disaster
And eager for other's lament
Laughing eyes in the skull
A journey to which yourself have sent

Imperfect Looks

Beauty; sublime, subconscious
Erected by media, society, and the famous
Celebrities on TV, in newspapers
Media which provides such
Society influencing celebrities and the media
Society influenced by celebrities and the media
Circular dependencies

The young girl, forced, by the brainwashing of her parents, into the guild of battered and broken souls
Competing for trivial prizes and frivolous fame
Contorting, warping the young girl's conscience

Eight to eighteen and self-deemed imperfect
In her own mind becoming a reject
Thousands of dollars and thousands of hours will never make her into Barbie

She constantly stares and picks at her plastic mask
And as she looks into her own eyes in the mirror, she sees an untamed beast hungry for pride
But it will never get fed as she desecrates her own head

Clowns

Effortlessly, impassively, a life struck down
The phobia of clowns
In the path of spurious honor, it stands no more
Oh, how the fire below adores

Music

Merry, merry, merry-go-round
Taking your body for a round trip
While listening to that sound

Static Shock

A static shock
Walk proudly, or else your body, the forces will mock

When the Horror Comes

The vernal blooming of the new generation of hate
Converted by a quest, a goal for freedom
Ironic and for sale
And praying for when the horror will come

The watchers gaze at the mischief
Jaded soon, desensitized
A quagmire, lasting in terms of power
The minds of the millions no longer hypnotized

The Man Who Wanted to Meet His Son

A couple of friends and I were walking by the lake
The lake with no face
A pile of leaves, we came by, next to a rake
The man who lived there was elderly and reclusive
He was still mourning the loss of his son
His son was murdered and his soul was sold
The waves of the lake were trying to come over the top of the rocks which made up the shore
Spontaneously, the wind moaned like a whore
The pile of leaves no longer a pile
Each leaf went their own way, however, some tangled up with each other for awhile

A storm seemed to have improvised its way into the chilly autumn day
The rain's intensity gradually built up
We ran under an awning to be okay
We conspired about making a run for my cottage about a half mile down
And then, an ear blistering sound

Lightning had struck the old man's house and it burst into flames
He ran outside and looked at his home and sky in disbelief
Like he just wasn't seeing his house smoldering but maybe in some kind of relief
Then, without warning, another crack of thunder into our ears
The man was gone but we knew he was just there
And when we were about to run, the dark clouds went away making room for the Sun

Just like that is was over

The Medium

2009-02-01T00:45:00.003-05:00

The poems in this section, "The Medium," are about nature and/or my relationship with nature.

Can We Be Friends Please?

Transparent air here I see
Immobile winds carry the sea
Fresh sea odors linger in my nose
Pristine and clear I suppose

As I walked towards the sea
I noticed it was ignoring me
So I grabbed a stone with my hand
The sea tried to grab me but grabbed the sand

I backed off and walked away
Even though I sensed it wanted me to stay
The limbs of the trees waved me down
The wind woke up making a familiar sound

Translucent air I now see
It did not really bother me
Walking in a cold sauna pool
The air became very cool

I walked to the sea again
Like walking through a stranger's den
Somewhere in between the sea and trees
I kindly asked, "Can we be friends, please?"

Grass, Trees, Lake, and Seagulls

Green grassy grounds surrounds you around peace
Peace and peace of mind
Towering trees tremble in the cold rainy night
Nights of silence

Am I really here? The mind can seem so absent
Disappear from the world, Disappear from yourself

Laughing lake likes you to look at its waves
Push me away or grab me to stay
Flocks of seagulls in flight settle onto the water
Water is the way

I am here. Thoughts are present
Reappear into the world, come back into my thoughts

Is as It Is

Opening the windows of light brings in the spirits of spring
Weaving throughout all the trees, which tower above me like kings
Paper rays of sunlight find their way through the cotton clouds
Under the dry leaves I find as much green grass the ground allows

The sun is hidden
The window shade of tomorrow shuts
Shining through the holes
Giving the horizon paper-cuts

Covert morning passes us by as the pond lets out a sigh
Ambitious afternoon adds a touch of drizzle from the sky
And the evening's angry warm winds tremble the trees where they stay
Clouds obscure the moon and its illumination that strays

Everything is as it is

Person, Place, and Thing

The night's cold follows you to bed
As the wind makes its way through the hanging tree limbs
You lie down on the bed thinking of the things the wind said
"Walk through me peacefully, walk throughout the world harmlessly."

You wake up to hear a bird on a dancing tree limb calling your name gracefully

You wander out into the misty forest
Nature snapping at your neck and legs
The bugs watch you pass through their home graciously
Up a hill you then follow your mind
You're back to what you left behind

Turning around you hear a whoosh and feel an unnatural wind blow through your hair
You walk until there is no more ground
The modest lake you're by asks you to leave when it begs you to stay
You then start to pick up a flat rock and spread your arm to your side
You unleash the rock and watch it skip across the jagged lake

Turning around again you walk back to your soft friend to see yourself sleeping where you left off
You then lay yourself next to your best friend

Presque Isle

The steady fading in and out beat of the waves hitting the rocks of the shoreline
In a hammock with leaves from a tree limb shading my eyes from the subtly moving Sun
I wish I could be there anytime I wanted
Anytime my mind feels overwhelmed by my self-induced stressful life

Family in a speech lengths reach
My dog, Poppy, resting contently at my side
The sporadic noises of watercraft to break any monotony
But even with this monotony, I am not bored

Still never free from my mind which summons my attention perpetually
But I can live with that in Presque Isle
Tranquil and serene
Infinite scenery, everlasting peace

Mother Nature

A cool, refreshing, honest breeze, on this, the month of May
The longly awaited, surreal odor of pollen came today
In a chair, sitting, lying, paralyzed
A moment of absent thoughts and lack of motion synthesized

Spring is reincarnated annually into the same form
When it's killed by physics, it's by the same means reborn

For the seasons are wiser than us
We are at war with each other
After moderate weather we lust
The seasons' wrath brought on us by life's mother

We are now both humans and nature's sympathizers; Mother Nature
Eventually we surrender because we remember we are all her creatures

Vernal Equinox

I await the dawning of luxurious spring
Fasting from false noises of the equinox
Oh, how I adore the songs from the feathered species
To wake up to the chirps at 5AM does not bother me

The tranquil sound of a warm rain can be heard on the rooftop and pouring out of the gutters
Collecting it in a pasta jar
Just because I can
Standing in its omnipresent path to feel like I exist

The air now fresh
And my body cool and refreshed
A new beginning
The year's rebirth
The rejuvenation of my own emotions

The Solstices

The solstices are Yin and Yang
With winter comes bitter pain
The summer's spiritual Enlightenment comes forth into the hemisphere
The people gather into the Earth's warm care

Clean snow of December are at first welcomed
Change is healthy, essential, and inevitable
But, oh, how we get jaded fast
Like a child with a Christmas present

June is of no difference
Warm days coupled with relieving water
The saturated air forces beads of sweat on your forehead
Which trickle down to join other beads and it gains momentum until you're just as jaded

I look forward to each season
Each for a different reason

The Ancient Land

This is an ancient land
Glowing with azure light
Mysteries lie under the sand
Taking consciousness to a new height

Solid Earth, unified water
In conjunction, synchronized
My alma mater
Senses grow in size

To escape, to flee
To return, to mourn
This land I envy
Will never be reborn