Bitterness, I sit.
Quick mind, yet not lit.
A flame unburned, like a campfire too weak to start;
And yet, I see the sparks.
The pale gaze of rising smoke, the fire is within me;
But buried deep has it become, what magic words unlock such power.
I think not, these words I say today;
One day, I may.
The missing piece,
What was now, suspended in still motion.
Void of space, a missing connection.
All strength taken, all bonds unbound.
Profound, without it no sound.
White noise, black lights.
Tis but a fight. A fight without swords, victory or honor.
But I grow stronger.
Stonger with time, stronger with my mind.
Yet, I wonder…will I be fine?
The question that fluctuates in my mind,
Only in time, or at the feet of the Divine.
Static Charge of Mind
The unpresidented seat of candidates;
Some corrupt, some bitter, some gentle, some sweet.
Yet corruption is the seed of undoing.
It strikes hard into the eyes of wisdom.
It corrodes the hands of time.
A static discharge, rewiring circuits.
Small shocks, shear pain.
But the pain of my blood is not my enemy;
Nor do I fear its intent.
For true fear of the unknown, is unknowing the fear.
The Devils Thoughts
Fierce loyalty, yet snide and deceiving.
The hand given or hand taken?
Unspoken rules of uncertainty and fear.
What lies beneath, is far unseen to the eyes of willingness.
It cannot be seen, only awoken and unsettled.
Like tissue of skin and scar;
It will never fully heal;
But with wisdom, courage and strength of will.
I can make it kneel.
A Thousand Souls of Guilt
The cries of a thousand lost souls hangs heavily as my guilt.
Guilt that cannot be tamed;
Yet neither caught or caged.
Wild like animal, unpredictable like raindrops off leaves;
And yet, the awakening occurs.
By strength, perseverance and humility;
For it’s within the ability of thought to conquer ones mind.
A task untalked by most, but so core to the capacity of life.
From within this, power comes;
And not even the harsh screams of a thousand souls of guilt can stop me from hearing the voice of reason.
Enlightened I am;
Each passing day by minds treason.
A cold pot of boiling dreams.
Chaotic reduction of wondrous sunset;
Shadowed over by the foul manifestation of doubt.
Troubled, is my mind by this;
Knowing all too well the wheel of emotions it begins to spin.
But wheels are unmoved without the friction of negativity.
Stopped once spun, by the opposite spectrum of gratitude, safe feeling and optimism.
With the breaks in fingers reach;
Adjacent, my hand hand hold steady.
One must learn how to squeeze;
Seize the moment of emotion, and with it;
Will come an overwhelming sense of victory.
The battle won;
But within the uneven path to victory, lies tales of more heroic bravery.
All within sight;
Yet just out, of arms reach.
A curious proposition;
In time, will be breached.
Thunderous clouds of thought;
They strike feeling into the hearts of god.
Moody weather, the twin of emotion.
Clouds of grey gather, but without order or logic.
Demanded only by devestation, and goverened by wind.
Yet what is lost without clear vision;
The sun of enjoyment sits behind these cloud still;
One must only remember, to feel the heat of wonderful once more.
Clothes no longer soaked in guilt.
The sun shines freely, with or without it’s brother cloud.
Believing night of seeing;
Is what must be found.
Turn Me On
Lights engaging, fulfill me with spirit.
Switch flicks, sparks of desire.
One must aspire.
Aspiration, less desperation;
Like like a steam train, arrives proudly at minds station.
Sometimes full, but often barren.
Desert-less perils of the fascination.
The art of feeling, times great time to perfect.
What was, may not be what is;
What is, may feel worse than what was;
But all feeling has true cause.
Misty like clouds of smoke;
Pain and commitment, both taken in stride.
You must seek what you are looking for;
And seek it with pride.
A mind must be wide.
The Hurting – 09/06/15
Is it within ones self to afflict the hurting?
Every leaf, falls differently;
Battered by the winds of emotion.
Mind trapped in nauseating delusions;
Troubled too far by the journey of uncertainty.
Time too many is the journey of life ignored;
Made scarce by self loathing.
Fixation on ill minded thoughts;
But such beauty can be found.
Vibrancy of red, color flows from her cheeks;
But the thorns bury deep in my skin.
Each ones undoing reminiscent of angelic delight.
Yet sadness strikes deeply upon my heart;
Overwhelmed, my face bleeds transparent blood.
The hurting lives on;
Long after flowers lie dormant;
Wilted, defeated, forgotten.
Despair leaks from the cracks of stability.
Eyes open, yet not seeing.
Blinded by agony, defeated by mirrored hatred;
Doubt rules minds Kingdom.
And yet I know;
Anarchy is coming.
Unnamed – 11/06/15
Unnamed, unknown, ashamed, alone.
Hours of darkness, yet a never ending day.
Symptoms of unknowing, too strong to fade away.
Poetic literature, the start of dismays decay.
For within self analysis and insight;
We learn the fight.
Whether day or night, it’s within your might.
It is your right, so go, take flight.
Show spite to ill thinking, and courage to positivety.
The ultimate simplicity;
Too subtle for fame.
And that my friend;
Is where this poem gets its name.
Lost Worry 11/06/15
Torturous and deadly, it whips lashes at my heart.
So far apart, I drift endlessly over oceans of worry.
Unarmed, unmanned, the waves batter my soul.
Each one chips away a little more.
My mind erupts;
Burn away at feelings of joy and hope.
But the shell remains;
Perfectly intact, it goes unseen by those who choose not to see it.
Salted uncertainty corrodes the cogs of my mind.
A damaged clock;
Too far gone to repair.
But the seeds of courage grow from within me.
Something far stronger than the heat of negativity.
Nurture and care;
The seeds must grow strong.
Without kindness to oneself, it cannot, last long.
An Open Mind – 13/06/15
An open mind, breeds all types of kind.
The senseless worry, drags far behind.
Too often is the mind vacant of self joy and love;
A soul left empty only fills with doubt.
Untrue to the nature of happiness;
It dominates, unraveling smart thinking;
And crushing sweet dreams of fragile opportunity.
A mind unkempt is a mind far weakened.
It lies only in the ability of awakening, to rectify such devastation.
Manifestation occurs, in all forms;
Good or bad, happy or sad.
Choice, lies still;
Delicately balanced by the influx of thought.
When wisdom is learnt, wisdom is taught.
Teacher or student, both roads lead a far.
Until one day, it’s only a scar.
Roses – 14/06/15
Roses, Roses, everywhere.
One passed with wisdom, one maiden’s fair.
One beautied with youth, one treasured with age.
Both won my heart, on the same little page.
Roses, Roses, wilted, forgotten.
Yet as old ones pass, new ones blossom.