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.
August 9, 2009
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.
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.
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