Some more stream of consciousness nonsense

Flowers grow

From fever dreams

And I crawl into your vase

To find comfort 

In the cushion of 

Your ability to see through.

My head sinks 

My thoughts leak

And dissolve 

In the fragrance of your words

And the worlds that they create.

Sorry Shrida, I could easily call this Mirrors or something but who’s watching? Hehe

There are no mirrors

In this house of glass

Reflections are mere shadows

Slivers of life on every surface

Reminding me

In an attempt to not

That

I am only singular

And self-contained

Maybe mirrors can teach me

How to look again

This one’s called “F”

Fistfights for finality 

Fitting Food for thought 

And forced first-letter formations

Like this one

Lie in their graves 

Only Fickle fantasies.

Like fertile fires

On fertile lands,

Forbidden fears

Fester under

Fellowships and followings and

Fingernail fashion magazines

Pictures of food

Fast cars 

And other feelgood fairytales

Father our expectation

For failure. 

Here’s one more, I haven’t done this in some time

The scabs on your feet

fade away 

like rust on rainy days

burning all bodies 

with time

there are no right answers

only directions

for you and I to go

sometimes we collide 

sometimes we do not.

I’m sick of titles

The mountain calls out

For shapes in the sky

A breeze takes you

Away from the mist

Your nights are full and bleak

You’re all wrapped up in sheets

Hair raised eyes closed

Swallowed spit upturned 

Widowed birds uncurled

All your life you climbed

For this

Maybe you made a bluff 

On a winner

And folded

Thinking you’ve lost.

FFC0CB

Colour me in

With your formidable words;

Paint outside 

The lines I've drawn myself. 

I have seen the world 

In hues of pink;

Only now do I see your blues. 

Your lakes and your skies,

Through my cherry blossom eyes,

Seem stranger than before. 

I used to dream in lavender,
Now I only sleep.

Rain

Fall upon us nonetheless

Acid 

and tears 

From long lost love and pangs

Of angst and regret

Fall upon us nonetheless

Ashes

Of second-guessed dreams

And things unsaid 

Fall upon us nonetheless

Hail and stone

Break my body and

Release me 

Misgivings

I met 

Myself from another time 

On the bus on my way back home 

He whispered to me

Of all he'd seen and heard 

And smelled and touched 

And lost along the way, while

Laughing through his children's eyes and trying through his own.

His rickety finger tapped timidly 

On the windows that block the

Precarious winds that seldom blow

Bringing the same strange relief of loss 

That lasts only a moment.

With pain and with pride, 

With guilt and forgiveness, 

Sometime

Somewhere 

I knew I'd reek 

Of the same regrets,

Of the same misgivings. 

Right now 

Right here 

I knew I'd rather not. 

To Memory

Let me feed the flame 

Around which we gather

To share meat, mead and stories 

Of embellished pasts

Let it grow

Unvanquished; As 

It sears through 

To memory, to morning light.

Search

I'm very existentialist in nature. I think we are the product of chaos. And I strongly believe we were born with no purpose. We make purpose. And we do so at the off-chance of having to make something significant, make a change, change a life for better or for worse, to inspire thought and progress. And that's about it. I see no reason to believe in the unquantifiable. I choose to find beauty in this roll-of-the-dice nature of the universe. I believe in creating cause and reaping effect from the complexities of human life and working with constant motive toward this ideated "destiny" we seem to pursue, without which we are docile inanimate beings of nothing. The realisation of the limitedness of time is the beginning of everything we have and will ever achieve. In my humble opinion it is an inexcusable waste of this valuable resource waiting around for results from predestined notions of your conventionalised dreams. Success in this life of any sort is deeply dependant on the faith you put into the belief that cause will bring effect and only in practising the same will all you've worked for confluence with opportunity. Don't be delusioned by the idea that you're alive for a reason, you make reason for your time on this earth to be all you can be. Drop your search for the meaning of life because the true meaning of life is what you make of it. Accept that life is a series of randomised events that you can take a part in to influence. Only then can you find the time to accomplish what you want from it. 

Crystal

You're made of glass

I'll hold you close,

Cushion your fragile

Your tender pose

You're made of glass

You're set in stone,

You lie chest-down 

Your face unshown 

You're made of glass

With crystal eyes,

Heart on sleeve

You spell demise

You're made of glass

You're still a child

Rehearsed behaviour,

A practiced smile

Dhdh

Don't wither in your shell 

As you wait for your name to be called

Into the spotlight 

Rejoice in the fact that

A friend, a foe, a fear 

Finished first. 

Celebrate this loss and 

Learn

For this is not the end

Noise

Scream at the noise,

Scream at all the noise.

Rage on

Because that's what you'll do,

All you'll do anyway. 

Drag out all your demons 

From the shade of your smile

String it in with

Your hurtful,

Tasteless,

Sorry attempts to insult and belittle;

Go on ahead and

Scream back out to the

Traffic within and without you

So you can sleep through your dreamless eyes,

March to the beat of the rhythmless chaos that

Envelopes you and yours. 

And resort

To internalise the noise;

Become it. 

Fairytales for You and Me

I'll live another day

If the notes to your song

Can outweigh the words

That

Keep you afloat 

Like the rest of us

And make me swim on

For the hours that await

I'll live another day

If every frame 

And Every pixel of your creation 

Has the strength 

To capture the essence 

Of why you 

And I 

Seem to breathe 

I'll live another day

As long as the story

You tell 

Pushes it's way 

Through every fibre

Of my sequentially 

Ill-equipped existence 

And inspires. 

Contoured Eyelashes

Contoured eyelashes tug at the sky

Clouds turn to dust in the blink of an eye

Vacant stares, they cost you your life

They sour your bones, cut like a knife. 

Burn marks and inks are not who you are

Corrigibility is not a long road afar

Time is our music and time is our noise

We are its author; We are its toys

Spectre

The dog smells his way back home

When blinded by the light;

The sorrow breeze is carrying

The spectre of a kite

He surrenders at the feet of pain

Begging for the past

Praying for to feel again

For long it may not last

If all your sorrows and all your pains

In redemption you think may end,

Look right up when falling apart. 

Pretend, my friend. Pretend. 

A New Year

We stand bareback at what is to come,

Staring reluctantly at the past we once held.

Hoping

For a light to come save us 

From the light within. 

Intervention

The clown comes knocking at your door

Asking when you will rise

For it is not your race to finish

It was neither yours to start

Will you brush your teeth and hold up the sky

Forever

Day after day after day?

Accept this intervention. 

Consider it divine. 

[25:17]

Later

In a gasp of a moment,

Or in a panting I see;

There's no time I have left, 

No further can I see. 

I know that I should have,

I know I can't now,

I don't know but if everything,

Will eventually come around. 

My days, they are numbered,

This time, it does fleet;

Pensive I look at the mirror,

At myself, yet so, in defeat. 

Too long I had wasted,

Too aimlessly, I glared;

And not much had I tasted,

In those moments that I dared. 

Don't leave it for later. 

Perish

And heroes need to die for when armies are to perish. 

And some men are to cry when others are to cherish. 

For when we are sorrow, and when we do sigh. 

We are but the ones, the one yet to die.