The night sky: its affects and power

Messages and stories were seen in the stars that were so captivating that our ancestors aligned the pyramids in Egypt perfectly with Orion's Belt.  Structures are connected to constellations that we can't see at night anymore since we have flourished into cities of blinding radiance taking that luxury away from us. Such mysteries may now only be seen in the most secluded of all lands. The night sky finds its magic best that way.
We may not see the night sky at that moment of seclusion the way our ancestors have but ultimately it is still overwhelming and bizarre to any gazer, as it rightfully should be.
The only discouraging thing about the beauty of the night sky is one has to drive and drive to get to an inviting enough a place to see all the wonders it holds. Let it not be a curse to travel to this awaiting splendor alone because when this destination is reached there is no way one can feel alone. Let all that is above fall on you like a million sweet eyes in curious scrutiny. We are aliens ourselves, we may have never happened.

Not by any means a secret to happiness

One must hold on to their mind, - to know what they know apart from what they feel. Once one is aware of what they know and holds on to it tight as though it were their very identity, this allows the opportune time for the heart to slip in and offer up its essence.

But the secret to self

Oh Kurt Vonnegut, my awareness has gotten the best of me;

Laying in bed the other night thinking about reading..thinking about thinking..looking out my window at what would have been the beautiful remnants of the sunset if all the houses weren't in the way.
Then again I shouldn't complain, at least I can lay in bed and have such a view, half assed or not, it's still a view.

Man o man, if this is the most of my worries, I'd say I'm pretty well off sitting in my hollow boxed house that has more smaller hollow boxes in it, just like yours. However, I didn't ask for this, I didn't ask for houses to cloud my horizon. Who thought it smart to group us ignorant humans together in a tight knit community and call them neighborhoods? What if i want to breathe? If this is the world's idea of how living should be with almost no other alternative, who said this is how I am to breathe?

Lord, let me BE one less ignorance to your company, let me have my perfect view minus the too quick to catch sunset for this horizon dances and dances only to be seen by the most careful and quickest of the eyes. At least make it last, I ask.
Amen.

Letter to my 10 year old self

So, you're in Honduras and you're not digging it so much. No hot running water, no dishwasher, or washing machine. Good thing you're 10 and easily amused because all you've got is bottle caps to flatten with rocks to play with like marbles. When it rains make paper boats to float in the puddles outside the front door and at night tap tap tap your fingers on your pillow along with the rain tap tap taping on the tin roof. On the hot days try wetting the sidewalk that runs along the 'pila' and rub soap all over it to slide on, that's the sidewalk for it. Make friends with all the geckos and ants that roam around your living quarters because those are the only friends you'll have that you wont have to speak Spanish to. Submerge yourself in the culture because one day you'll fall in love with this place through the memories you create here. Soak up all the poverty, soak up the religion, soak up the family, and soak up anything that catches your eye. I promise, you will thank me.

Pulling me away from my mystic river haze has found far from any simplicity.

Always battling
My constant struggle,
Walking along side with a single arm
Stretched to feel the edgeness
These cobble stone dreams offer.

He says to me, "I wish I could grant you this
But you aren't there."

A longing,
If you will,
To show him happiness
Is a wall of rain
Found at hand in a fog attached horizon.
To make it be would
Be that of a token to findingly
Be submerged gracefully
Within a clear turquoise river
Dancing with specks of white.
And I,
Bare body,
In sync with serenity.

...For he, if I could make it be.
But desire he will have to posses,
And for that I know only I hold the key.
For him, always, a gatherness of words
Will make him forever swim in longing.

Maybe You Would Understand II

I word things differently, so bare with me.

I once heard society hates free spirits like me.
Well I come from the rain and everybody knows rain comes at the times when of course you'd be stuck in it, when you can't go play in it, at perfect times, and like a song that sings, "it's like rain on your wedding day."

I am resurrecting Picasso, Klee, Turner, and Poe.
I'm soaking the wonders they hold and taking that and turning them into indelible impressions on my mind.

I'm setting my spirit agog by future reflections to saunter the world.

Nobody is ever ready for a free spirit. What fun is that?
But I'm not turning back, I've no fear leaving humanity behind. Don't frown on me, appreciate that maybe I have the chance to bring some color into your world. Open those clouded eyes to lives so real a million of ocean waves, and shimmering breathtaking sunsets away from you. Maybe I get to open your mind to pictures of wondrous colour and then endless pages of flowing curves, straight lines, and punctuations of what was once plain and white now to be read aloud of my glorious sights seen and experienced not just dreamt of.

As of now, I give you a lighthearted smile and a lighthearted wave as you carefully scrutinize my every move into a horizon so tasteful that only I will taste.

Maybe You Would Understand

A man sits alone
Gray and well worn
"Catch me, I'm falling,"
He whispers.

His entire life
Made these last moments
Worthy to die for.
This is when he remembers.

No dud shooting star
To talk of.
He was immensely loved.

Untrotted Xs are mythical;
His dusty feet have
Stomped, have
Danced, have
Stood, have
Loved
All sorts of colours of our earth.

The stars and constellations
Have since remained his alibi.
Bomber moon nights
Reveal his hunger driven tracks.

Departing time after time
A little more changed and torn
On the inside,
But his fruits he will have left.

Satisfaction at his finest
Tears, smiles, eager ears
All the stories, All the love.
Happiness flowing like that of an ocean,
Constant.

Perplexed,
Then the always found
Reason.
Maybe you would understand.

Longing

Here I am, taking inseparable care of the sky
Standing at the shore of a foaming sea
Blustered
I look to the Bear shaped constellation
I want to be lost at these vast tossed waters
For my long stood battlements are crushed


*I think sometimes you've just got to be in my mind,
the picture is there.

These angry men
Chase your happy dreams away
They wont let your halo glow
Mission deeds, clapping feet
They scream in a murderous voice, "REBEL!"

*inspired after reading Fahrenheit 451

Sometimes my life feels like a bed of forgotten snow-covered flowers upon which warm hands might fall, but they feel no acknowledgment, - over which the sun's fruit might cover like a blanket, but feel no comfort.

Let the fire serenade us a lullaby

Let your body sway with my body swaying
Tears fall out of sheer beauty
Nose, lips, freckles, toes, and laced fingers
Illuminated by a fire burning mild
We've got a moon to share tonight
And canvases for our fingers to sketch on sweetly
We're swaying swaying
This tree populated
Star covered night
Drinking in our indulgences

Illuminate your smile

Look at those shining eyes.
Pick up your feet,
You know, the horizon aches for you.
It seems these days only you notice,
The speckles of the Earth that do not even shine.
You find all that is hidden.
Is it that you seek it?
Does it just happen?
Mother Earth does not care the answer,
Just flattered that you do.

Clear your cluttered mind.
Please cease all these hazey days.
Close your eyes,
Breathe,
What are you to do?
Do not dwell.
'Poo-tee-weet' a bird says to you...
Let it go.

My Abscond

As birds scream from their syrinx
And my cape falls, falls, falls
Damn termites eating away my damned wooden heart
As my angel tears away at my life
Grimingly, - laughing, - rejecting the desires of my cornered soul
Oh how mean my angel is to me
I'm dying to be a creature of beauty
Never again are my ideas to be shunned
LEAVE ME
I'm falling
Falling with my cape...
falling nicely along side slaughtered birds
I'm no hero, this is no game
Always a self slaughtering battle
LEAVE ME
I'm crying, "Where is my coterie?!"
Finally these endless whispers are breaking free
Surround me
Surround me tranquil copse
You'll grow to like me

It was my quiet hint to move
The quiet hush across the grass field
How the wind blew through my horizon
.....I breathed

Oh Lord - The Essence. Have Mercy.

They're only lights tagged on buildings illuminating the sleepy streets - and they're only passing passionate strivers stirring up my nerves - and they're only night city lights making a whirlwind of chaos in such a calm environment at its finest - and they're only piercing words that reside within novels - and they're only dandelions holding my desires - and they're only wide open spaces filled with the just of air and green life - and they're only people's faces in black and white passing so fast by mine - and they're only little simples in everyday life - and they're only snowy horizons, mountain filled - and they're only war stories - and they're only candles showing all that of importance - - but they all capture me at my most vulnerable.

It goes down, I would just accept it.

A truculent expanse of months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and ever ticking ticking ticking seconds with your soul leaves an acute wiseness in your eyes. Once a soul has ventured deeper than one's should be able to go, the point of no return is no longer a ticking bomb.

You intimidate. People want conventionalism. You solely offer authenticism. This is when you lose humanity. This is when you do not turn back.

When my mind roams I always track it back down to the mountains of Colorado right on the line of massive copse. Here resides a one room cabin. Everything is dark and calm. Do not join me but know safety is here. R.E.M fills what would be white noise with Into The Wild flickering on screen making shadows creep along my walls. Here sleep is shy, however, thoughts flow freely - in and out, in and out. Freedom is here. Everything is wonderful in these moments. Oh to feel such a soul surrender to sanity. Every time I'm stolen here I die a little more inside, half knowing this is nothing more than a fantasy. Alone, beautiful. I would die this way. So it goes..