Profound Perspectives
Poetry & Prose
Written & Lived by:
Timothy Dean Tober Wright
And May Be Left At My Site By Clicking The Link Below
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Through the eyes of Roses
Today I was looking through hundreds of pictures I have taken over the
years of my life, both on traditional film and in digital format as well. I have tried to chronicle the moments, capturing forever that inevitable fading memory of light through the evolutions that inevitably will come to pass for all of us. As my search for specific remembrance of nostalgic memories continued and the music played on in the background, I found as I looked at each photo that I became more emotional and nostalgic by the turn of each page, something quite expected from 39 years of memories
good and bad I guess.
As I turned the digital pages of my online hosted photo album, one picture suddenly made me go deaf for a moment in time, as if the music had suddenly stopped playing and took all of the air out of my already cigarette damaged lungs. The music had been silenced by the strongest epiphany I believe I have ever had since the discovery that boys and girls were very different. I could barely breathe as a profound realization occurred to me right at this moment and I want to share it with you now on these pages.
I moved out of state after mutually ending a 3 year relationship on great terms,
(that did last) with a wonderful lady. My family needed help and I just so happened to be available and thrilled to do anything I could to help them, so I moved out to where they live from my home state. Things were going great, the crisis had been averted and I could stake my claim to part of the cause and it made me feel important and needed again, something I believe I was missing in my life.
However it was a double edged sword as I was getting emotionally strung out because the flames of my recent lost love were starting to rekindle long distance and then blow out again and it was taking it's toll on my mind, one evolution at a time, like the constant drip of a leaky faucet echoing in a large empty room. People tried to help me see what was going on but I closed these blue eyes as tight as I could so I would not have to face the fact that we were both playing games with my already shattered soul, intent being neither accused or mattered.
One day, much like any other, I emerged from my room and stepped outside into the bright morning sunlight, there before me only a few feet away was a beautiful pink rose from my sisters little flower garden, I pondered on whether I should go over and "stop and smell the roses" on my way in for coffee or not. It sounded so cliche that I turned in the direction of mornings best friend, saying to myself, "I will smell it a little later" there is nothing as beautiful or that smells as wonderful as a fresh rose alive and vibrant, in my humble opinion.
Much later that day I was headed back in the direction of the rose and the light bulb of remembrance went off above my head, "the rose" I shouted to myself inside my mind as I took off running in it's direction. What I found when I got there caused me to withdraw to the sanctuary of my bed and blanket, much like a child seeking comfort, afraid of what's in the closet or under the bed. I tried as hard I could but the tears were refusing my efforts to thwart them and they gently washed down the frown of disgust, disgust with myself that was my face right then because I had procrastinated once more and was sorry I had.
You see I waited too long, as the sun bore down that day, it's ability to grant life and death to living plants and animals had been shown in all it's great power as I looked on the ground and saw the petals of the rose lying all over in the dry dirt, lifeless and withering under the unforgiving ultra violet rays. The remnants of a once beautiful creation left to remind me that I failed, selfishly choosing not to capture that beauty forever, when the chance stood before me so generously.
Time passed, the tears dried and the frown went away but the memory and regret lived hidden deep inside of me, not ever spoken of before this very day. The sun shone down on my skin and warmed me but it was a bitter sweet feeling, knowing the rose was merely a representation of so many things in my life I waited too long to cherish. I sought the forgiveness of that flowers host, bringing water to it's thirsty roots, hoping for a second chance although feeling undeserving just the same. I tried to learn the lesson for what it was teaching me, choosing not to dwell in the confines of the welcoming embrace of regret and misery, rather living better and choosing now to ignore the word cliche entirely.
As I stepped into the familiar sunlight of another morning, an unknown number of evolutions following the rose incident, I looked ahead as I had every morning previous for the return of a missed beauty and wasted opportunity, then one morning the breath was sucked from my lungs leaving me gasping. In place of the one rose prior, were now
two nearly identical roses growing in perfect symmetry side by side.
More profound was the yellowish color in the center that was surrounded by the light pink outer edge of each bloom, making it appear like two eyes looking right into my soul and then allowing me a glance at the world through their eyes. What I saw frightened me and inspired this story to be told. There is beauty all around us, but if we wait too long it will surly go away, nothing lasts forever. We must seek the help of others in times of need, choosing victory over pride, but only if we are willing to give back twice as good as we get from them and from life as well. If we all lived this way it would come full circle for everyone at some point, because if everyone gave a little more time, or lend a softer ear perhaps, even a spontaneous drive to the grocery store for someone who is accustomed to having to take the bus, it's in this way that we would all benefit from the unselfishness of a stranger or family or friend alike.
A Rose Bush taught me what human beings have not in 39 years of listening and reading and absorbing infinite knowledge of the world I live in. I believe in the power of conviction like never before, if you truly choose to try and make the most of every opportunity regret will be harder followed. Accepting that you will make many mistakes throughout life is only the beginning, we must accept our mistakes as lessons that needed to be taught in the way they were presented in an effort to secure the importance of each one individually as well as collectively.
Today I realized something, I chose to act and not dwell in my mistake that time, bringing the water and talking to this living creation as if it could understand and respond to what I was saying, asking for another chance wrapped in the promise to capture the next memory on film. My efforts were rewarded in the form of a double rose, two times back the effort given, but not until this day weeks later, looking at the captured memory did I see them as the eyes of the rose looking inside me and then inviting me to look inside myself once more, against my desire to do so for such a very long a time, this time offering me a look through their eyes and providing some comfort to the fear I felt from what I knew I would see.
While indeed nothing lasts forever, please do not hesitate the next time your heart is telling you to stop, or pick up that picture box and store another hour glass memory before the sand runs out
and you find it lying dead on the ground, lifeless and withering showing no form of prior representation. Give twice and expect nothing back for it is the greatest form of true flattery to impress oneself more often than others if kept innocent and true.
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Thank You Dear Rose
Petals of rose lying in the dirt, it was this site that made my heart hurt I failed to stop and smell you that day, a fragrance and beauty unmatched in any way. I had to try and do my best, or else my soul would just not rest.
I won't put off until tomorrow what may only have chance of today. It's in this lesson I learned, it's why I wrote this to say. I held to the hope that you would return, a chance to capture your beauty before the suns rays did once again burn.
The same golden energy that brought you to bloom, was the same force of nature, the cause of your doom. But then when I cared for you with all that I had, you came back
times two and I was no longer sad.
A flowers lesson, learned from within, a struggle to understand this fight we can't win. Nothing lasts forever, no better have these eyes seen more clearly, I will forever cherish your beauty and hold life more dearly.
I thought my chance to see you again was gone forever, floating away in the wind like a bird or a feather. My efforts rewarded in folds of two, just following my heart was all I
had to do.
Waiting in patience and hope that a new day would dawn, bringing with it a new flowers spawn. Thank you dear rose for helping me see, inside of my soul where I needed to be. Bringing you water in place of no rain, not wanting you to suffer or feel any pain.
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Ode to Chronicus Maximus
To my son and best friend on four paws, I wrote this for you, just because......
My heart just can't mend this time it's really broken, she spent all our love like an arcade token, because of her there are tears on my face, at least now I know you are in a better place, please don't be mad at me when you are feeling blue, I will never stop thinking of you, or all the things that we made it through.
I will forever remember the tears you licked off my face, and covet the smiles you left in their place, people were afraid of you at first sight, but within minutes they knew you
were all right, you never hurt anyone and for that I am grateful, because of your breed
people got hateful, but they didn't know you the way that I did, they could not know that you were just a kid.
Through all the crazy times we've had, all the good and all the bad, the one and only thing that never changed all the way through it, was whatever it took to make me feel better you'd do it, your love for all was unlike any other, as gentle and warm as that of a mother.
So now as I write this with tears in my eyes, my only wish is that you are playing tug in
the skies, or running around the way you do, I'm sure you made friends there, you
probably have your own crew, I hope that you can talk when I get there, I really want to hear what's going through that mind when you stare.
Son you live in my heart now because you are gone, but I want you to know your spirit
lives on, we always talk about you all the time, about what happened and how it's a crime, but karma has a way of coming around, I would not want to be her when it comes to town.
Please wait for me a while longer, people need me here so I need to get stronger, it's
because of you sometimes I'm inspired, because of you Son I push on when I'm tired,
because of you I can say this, I have known happiness and bliss, I had a best friend when you were here, not seeing you again one day is my biggest fear.
I know you are in a better place than you were, and much better off away from her, but
the fact still remains that now you are dead, death lasts forever and I can't get that
thought out of my head. I realized too late that there is nothing that can be done about it now, I have to mend my broken heart I just don't know how, but in your spirit I keep finding strength, I'll keep pushing on no matter the length.
It's what you would do if the situation was in reverse, I can't help but smile thinking of you riding shotgun in a hearse. Thank you Chronicus Maximus for all that you have done, thank you so much for all the fun, thank you for choosing me, we think we chose you but now I can see.
We don't decide who enters our lives, we don't get to choose who lives and who dies, all I can do now is try to do better, perhaps sit down from time to time and write a letter, just a note to tell those we miss so dear, if I had one wish, it's that you could be here.
Daddy 7-9-08
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The Loudest Silence
A
very long time ago, in a completely different life if you will, I had
the notion of taking a life, but it was me I wanted to kill. Life was
getting me to see only the things that were bad, it was harder and
harder to not always be sad, but I had a best best friend without any
clause, you see he was not human he walked on four paws. Drugs were
really getting into the way, weeks I would go without feeling the
suns bright warm rays, so finally one day I could take not another, I
thought of my Mama, my Sisters and Brothers.
But you see
that was not enough to keep me here, I picked up a pistol and sat
without fear, on the edge of my bed siting staring at a bullet, all
shiny and chrome, could the trigger I pull it? My best friend was
there and cocked his head to one side, what would happen to him if
his Daddy had died, I thought about this and a whole lot more,
finally I got up and tried to get him out the door. He was not moving
he would not even budge,I told him that's fine then but you better
not judge, so I went to the bed and again I sat down, I swear that
his face expressed a big frown.
He somehow knew what was
going to take place, he jumped on the bed and tried licking the tears
off my face, I tried to tell him son just go away, but he would not
leave me alone he wanted to play. It started to make more tears fall
like rain, I swear my best friend on four paws could feel all my
pain, so I just closed my eyes and put barrel in mouth, I knew where
I was going if I did this and it was most likely south.
But I did care about Heaven or Hell, I just wanted to ring the final
bell, I squeezed on the trigger and all I heard was a click, the
silence was broken and I suddenly felt sick. I sat there not talking
not saying a word, at best I felt like a big giant turd, the silence
was deafening and louder than anything before, I was shocked because
this gun never misfired before.
I
was not sure what the next move should be, my son on four paws just
kept staring at me, then perfectly on cue, it's like he knew exactly
what to do, he let out a whine that sounded sincere, all I could tell
was that he wanted me here. I put down the pistol and hugged him so
hard and long, suddenly it hit me that I needed to be strong, I could
not leave him and the others behind, what was I thinking had I lost
my mind?
My mind was not the thing that I lost that day,
I lost my ability and desire to pray, just a higher power is all it
takes, and then you will know they that they forgive all our
mistakes, all that they ask is that we try harder, not sit in our
bedroom and act like a martyr. The silence in that room after the
click of misfired gun, was all that it took to make me not want to
run, the drugs and the pistol both I had rid, I got myself clean and
am thankful I did.
Something or someone had stopped me
from dying, I owe it to them to just keep on trying, life gets me
down at times it's still true, but now it's like I know what to do,
just look to the sky and ask for the blessing, to have things
redefined and not keep me guessing. I hope that never have to hear,
the loudest silence, from living in fear, the fear that you cannot go
on any longer, if you look to the skies and ask, they will help you
get stronger.
Tomorrow Might Only Be Today
Our
great society is falling ill to a non discriminate disease called
selfishness, it seems that being rude toward one another is
more widely practiced and accepted in our society than any of the
years previous to present. How did we allow ourselves to become so
selfish toward each other. Granted it's not a perfect world, but I
only live in a small section of it, seems to me though like a perfect
world could exist for anyone or everyone through the promise of the
few and the efforts of the many if everyone would just try a little
harder. We are all victims and criminals in this trial, judged by
life, if you believe you are perfect then I can say only this, I am
pleased to finally meet you God.
Yes it's true that life
although not a sport, throws us curve balls almost every other pitch,
so what, does that mean we call the game? No, it means one must adapt
and hit the damn ball. I am guilty of taking life's bad pitches,
striking myself out quickly followed up with the taking out of that
emotional distress on everyone else on the team, but now I realize
that being rude or pissed off is just adding to the chaos I am trying
to shed in the first place and that I am the only one I need to be so
deeply concerned with.
It starts inside, we have to be nice to ourselves first and then we can express that kindness fully toward others in our world, but first we must seek out and embrace the strength needed to look inside and face our own demons, realizing that although intentions may indeed be pure, trying to help everyone else with their issues to avoid our own has become the scapegoat of a once stronger society, do we truly love or have we gotten too accustomed to the gratuitous use of such a powerful word. My Mother told my siblings and I as we grew up not to ever leave the presence of another loved one in an argument, she stressed this with true conviction, telling us that in a world where anything can happen at any given moment, we would be hard pressed to recover from the emotional suffering that would be left in the wake of a tragedy, if our last words to one another were indeed expressed in anger or even rudeness.
It took too many years for me to understand her words to the point where I could start to apply this wisdom in my own everyday life, ultimately upon reaching such a profound realization I am able to state that my life is better because of this knowledge and the application of said, sadly however for others it may already feel like it's too late. Don't you dare read this and put off that message to whoever it is you know would love to hear from you, I don't believe I have to remind anyone that nothing lasts forever, but regret can be long carried. Please don't make them wait any longer, pick up that instrument or sit down to whatever communication vehicle you prefer and get your message written or spoken by action or words. If you find your efforts unmatched please do not be thwarted, doing this for yourself expects no yield, living for others is the foundation for a failed existence.
Live
your life asking yourself what you would pay
yourself monetarily to be alive, then get your moneys worth from
yourself every day. Look inside but venture slowly, we all carry some
form of darkness that we live in from time to time, moments pass for
some while others hold the brightness of a better time as a memory
alone, carry the torch of light sustained by purest intent and
kindness of heart and you shall not walk long alone in your dark
nights.
A Little Blue Eyed Elephant
A
little elephant with eyes of blue, sometimes he knew not what to do.
The chains that bound him were so much weight, his heart always
revealing anger looking like hate. But now the chains are little
more, than a piece of string blocking the door. He wants to run and
can't seem to find, a way to forever keep his thoughts more kind.
People feed him and pictures they take, wondering why the string he
won't break. He knows about this and he knows about that, the little
elephant wears many a hat.
Run little guy, just be free,
you don't need to stay there can't you see. Your heart is bigger than
the rest of you, the chains are cut you know what to do. You have to
live for you always and forever, living for others won't work for you
ever. Kindness is the fuel that feeds your fire, being free of your
bindings your only desire. Don't trample them down with your mighty
self, yet be careful about putting your feelings on a shelf. You
don't need to know exactly where to run to, all you need is to take
good care of you.
You might be an elephant in a world
full of lions, but that does not help when you're sitting there
crying. You know what the string is and why it's there, you know that
it's this and much more about you care. People will see you and
wonder what's up, they will offer you peanuts and a drink from their
cup. But all of that kindness is not well received, to an elephant of
Blue Eyes so many times been deceived. This just is not fair and not
the way to think, take some peanuts little guy, and of their cup you
may drink. People are good and people are bad, but is it really fair
to let that make you sad?
Listen little elephant the time
now is right, from these chains or a string, you simply must fight.
Don't allow yourself to be on a tether, it's time for you little
elephant to fly like a feather. No more heavy steps will you take,
walk softer and lighter and your heart won't so easily break. But
carry the weight of the world upon your shoulders, it will slow down
like carrying boulders. You can break the string now little friend,
doing so is a means to an end. But stay where you are and you won't
ever be free, you cannot stay here much longer I hope you can see.
Run little friend, run like the wind blows, don't fear the unknown, what will happen nobody knows. All I can tell you is I am here to help you see, that you are your own worst enemy. You have it in you to do what is needed, the sun will shine on you for all warnings heeded. Just see the world for what it is worth, give yourself a new start, a Soul of rebirth. You will be fine my little Blue Eyed friend, just see this life through to it's end. Don't let life's ups and downs win in the day to day, by letting your blue skies turn to gray. Now with this poem you know what is needed, lessons are learned and warnings are heeded. Don't let the darkness be your friend, remember that string is a means to an end.
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A Dancing Witch's Eye
Socia,
a respected healer in a time much different than what we know in our
own reality now, stirred with the leaves as she too rested on the
unforgiving cold earth of the forest floor, interrupted in her sleep
as the wind gently caressed her face like the gentle hand of a lover
felt ever softly. Behind her curtains of flesh her Witch's Eye alone
danced while the other Green Eye rested softly. This term, Dancing
Witch's Eye had been given to her by her Grandmother in passing, she
had told Socia that a Woman with a single eye of Blue and Green mixed
not, standing in half of each other and dancing under the light of
the Moon alone, was just one of two eyes, however the only that
contained the sight of the Dragon.
Her Grandmother told
her in her last breath to be wary of what she let this eye see when
the light of the Moon is allowed to shine upon her face while she is
dreaming. She had looked her Grandmother in the eyes as she said
this, right before the glow of her Grandmothers light burned out
forever. She wept many a night in wake of this great Woman's passing.
Now she must meet with him again, this entity or God was not, the
power was not the question on her tongue this day either. She was
told to wait until the shadows whispered to her in the night, cold
and alone she waited for a gesture more than time. She was never
afraid, this was her element, her Grandmothers teaching had survived
her well and provided the benefits of the many. She would wait to
hear the whispering again, like she had as a child that first and
only night she heard them speak to her while she stood hand in hand
and unafraid with her Grandmother in the forest.
It would
speak to her and of this voice in the night her knowledge again would
be gained anew, bringing back to the people the messages from the
dark. This healer with Dancing Eye of Witch be told, could see the
darkness coming in the light of the Moon as she slept, Death hated
her as she thwarted him a plenty. She had met him too, not a man, a
thing or force called death, he had tried to pluck her Witch's Eye
from it's socket with gnarled hand of blackened bone and claw. She
was of the protected children and he loathed her calling, making the
nights empty for him those days she was afforded the strength to
carry his message ahead of him in warning and succeed. This was no
meeting with Death this night, the whispers would speak through the
lips of trust, coming to embrace her once again. To fill her need to
know of this existence and a message to be carried again back to her
and all the people.
Long legged this journey continues
back to the innocent that nurture the lands seeking reward of
sustenance for life alone, real treasure lie in friendship in this
place, gold was not known to these souls of purity save for a color
of aura. She could hear the whispers and they told her to believe
that trust was as real as Death that hunts her people by nightfall
into sun filled days. Lead them toward one another always, keep the
path well traveled in message were the words being spoken to her this
night.
Her Dancing Witch's Eye saw the Death Riders
coming, a new place she will have to journey to in order to spread
warning before it was too late, the half Blue half Green eye stopped
the Moonlight dancing behind it's fleshy curtain and rested into the
sunlight of the new day. A new course set in her dream she would as
always before know which direction to walk by instinct alone. Socia
gathered her things and set forth to warn the people of this new
destination sought, danger had been seen ahead once again, seen by
the light of the Moon through a Dancing Witch's Eye.
I Never Meant To Let Me Go
The rain fell, I stood dry. Whats meant in song perhaps not for every soul, perhaps.
Do you feel it at all, the suffering of yourself like the others you have felt, always?
You took him away, so you brought him home again in passing time.
Of reward one is sought right in asking, this one thinks no today.
His flesh is cold now again, once light warmed by no single course but reflection.
You may leave now and never take him with you again, you know this as fact this night.
Coming around, lurking, a shadow if ever a mouse or fly, floor to wall you watch us.
You can leave now I said, you won't be taking him with you anymore I said.
Reflections in a mirror, are they same as waters image or troubled?
I won't ask again.
He walks now shoulders of weight be lifted of this gift of pain suffered never chosen.
Breathing this midnight air once more, into lungs of newness and bitter strength.
His tired legs no longer burn from his traveled weary.
A new sun rises to warm his coldness, body to mind, pauseless in penetrating soul.
His lips a new course long forgotten seen, his face a smile now from centuries frowned.
A new rope fastened tethered to soul via heart, stronger than threads of whence.
He lives, if inside his heart now, matter not be in question of validity anymore.
He thinks of them tonight, the journey's they follow, guiding paths abundance when sought.
Without them why? Never, it has been refused now and will again.
Tonight they sing together and the Angels take turn in tear.
Goodbye To All The Past
The past that haunted me once upon time, was squeezing
my brain like juice from a lime
It seems to be that I no
longer need, these messages to carry or the warnings to heed.
As
I venture farther into my own tomorrows, I try and leave behind all
my sorrows.
Every day that will dawn will bring forth anew, a
new day to try not feeling so blue.
The sadness it comes and
leaves again, so I try to capture my feelings with pen.
Hoping
to read my messages in first, trying so hard to not see the
worst.
Knowing that somehow things will be okay, just trying
to make it through those toughest of days.
Faith is not
something I was born with or found, sadly it seems though to be all
around.
I can't seem to let go so easy, the things that haunt
me and make my stomach all queasy.
People they to me try this
and do that, it's like they don't think I know where I'm at.
I
am here just trying to get by, hoping that someday I will have
control of when I cry.
For right now though all I can do, is
bid farewell to the things that turn me blue.
So I say this
today with great conviction, the past is a resident this man is
evicting.
I have to break free these chains that have bound
me, I must let my spirit soar and fly without boundaries.
Something
said more easily than ever achieved, something much harder than I
ever believed.
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Listen Child
God Are You Crying?
Darkened Horizons
He stands in the light and warmth of a better day and yet still he forever trembles. He watches in perfect vision of the shadows in the distance dancing on the sunset of another days passing, relentless in their pursuit of the capture and torture of his mind, watching with grinning faceless mouths as slowly turning to dust are his thoughts and hopes for a tomorrow better than all his yesterdays. The wind blows with arrogance across his face as if in mockery alone to try and help dry the tears of a thousand rains thus hath fallen. They we would closer by the time the light of the new tomorrow was on his face, rest was the order of this moment.
Light brings forth another day to rise and bask in for most everyone, but the shadows on the horizon are very real and they invade at every promise left received by his heart alone now. Can the day force light into the darkness of his restless dreams, can the suns burning energy save his cold soul? Perhaps not as this it has been written not requested never granted. Acceptance is his water, hope his food, love is the breath that sustains his lungs that breathe the air he washes his soul in this day like all of whence..
They will come to darken the horizon on the eave of every suns fall as this golden ball of light and sustaining energy retreats back to the earths belly to rest once again in her warmth and safety, fading from view as if in solace and to welcome the Moon to her place in the night sky in which she rests amidst the stars of everyone's Universe. He had stood under this light by midnight hours glow and into his now seemingly sunless days for all the nights his mind would allow him to recall, this he knew is where she stood too, with him somewhere under the same light, it's this thought that had become the very thread he used to stitch his mind back together as he felt it dividing itself more often than he was comfortable with these days.
They were looking for her, just the same as he, but he knew his heart would show him the way. The pure of heart were afforded the protection of Calban in this place, a man of ten thousand years with the beard to prove it and as powerful a Mage as any who had come before and passed, a great Wizard who was known and respected by all residents of the lands for all he did in this place, he was more than a healer or protector, not just a keeper of the ancient writings this man was either, he was there to serve and he gave his lives to this cause. Not even the most powerful wizard can stop all evil, like life and the light that sustains within it, evil fed off the innocent of heart here as well taking no discriminate stand as to who they choke with the blacked serpent tongue that hisses in laughter as it coils around the neck of any innocent soul here and makes their eyes close in their last breath stolen by this evil.
He walks on, ever forward his direction and never looking back for fear of what might not be there if he turns around, he knew what lie in the dark corners of this place, it's what was gone when he turned around that he feared, the innocence of a great people was being drained from this place like the wine that drips from broken cup to chin as raised to ones lips. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and rubbed the eye of protection that Calban had once given him, a stone so important in it's meaning and true definition that to lose such a gift was to invite death to a place specific that you were standing almost in immediate when they smelled the fear.
This stone was given to him by Calban so that the Wizard could see him from distances that were beyond the sight of any creature and protect him with the refined magic of ten thousand years of study. The shadows knew about the stone, loathing it's sight as much as the thought of it's presence alone, they would never stop following him, waiting for the perfect moment of separation, stone and man to be divided and evil to now consume them both. They would wait, they would watch, he would keep walking into every sunset, protected by the stone.
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December Rain
The
bitter wind like needles it pinched his flesh so unforgiving, like
the endless cruel laughter on a playground. Suffering his wish unto
his as he walks to the ends of his ever nowhere searching for one
light to forever burn, seeking no shelter in the frozen December Rain
of every tomorrow. Pain is welcome in him because he will not feel
pain when he is dead and he embraces this thought in heaviness to his
dying soul, the soldier without a fight who takes no presence in
uniformed scurry of it, save for within. Do you feel the breath of
the wicked escape your throat they ask him, he just closes his eyes
again and the silence returns.
His choice in walking
these his paths not selected by him, free will carries his baggage
for his weakened arm. Today and in times when no Moon will capture
his breath he feels his own rains that bring peace into the mind of
the troubled in thought, searching his own salty waters for comfort
in proneness of his being. No promises will bend a travelers ear
today, tongue is rule for lands underfoot tonight but never
yesteryear in saving forth of yet these many true rains yet fallen.
Never without witness to cause is in his truest believing, then why
the serpent? Is this a way to slither under my rock legless and
smelling my purity with forked nostril?
I won't stop your
ways serpentine or gloved and this is known, will I fall? I must. I
cast thine stones of trust into my waters reflection and ripples are
more through to my soul than a minute pressed into my heart, the
ripple is my forgiveness of the weariness of my mind these many
nights into day. Do we all feel warmth from a glowing Sun? His
reflection in the rippled waters does little soothing of the rawness
he must continue, nerve to flesh and body it is witnessed in form of
no forgiving pain, he will feel all of this suffering and it will not
be shared by the water without.
His cries have answered
to his inner, eyes that weep no blood are his, but in the December
Rains of glistening is what he sees of purest to his mind to body,
into spirit light without a shadow cast upon the whiteness of this
day or the blue sky of this tomorrow if brought. He walks on the
pebbles that are her dead tears from whence, these frozen are her
December Rains fallen without a cheeks path to guide, hard fallen to
a frozen soil they feel nothing and know not of his treading. Would
it be the same if these stones he carried and never walked upon,
never, he knew the answer as it escaped his thought without
consent.
Freedom of chains that bind unseen, this is his
seeking all his days now. There is nowhere to wander, all has been
seen in one eye and imagined in the other, leaving cold sand to warm
him now as he sleeps in so much restless winds upon these cold beds
tonight. The will of one can be a strong one to force in any
direction thereof, seeking truth in Her Rains will colder your spirit
but the strength found elsewhere is never imprisoned to one as such.
Impart, what a funny wind has just whispered a soft melody of a word
he knows never before, his will prior of the action taken to, are
surrendered thence.
Hard Knocks Make Rocks
What is a struggle? Trying to pull away from a snuggle,
why would you anyway? A struggle is merely the challenges that we all
face in our lives day by day. For without them what would know, just
happiness, those aren't scars we can show.
Hard knocks like
lava, burning and hot, causing the need for action, wait you can not,
for the lava to cool and the magma turn stone, for it your soul
inside you unseen, however stronger than bone.
Struggles like
snuggles must be embraced, the good with the bad we must accept
without haste, it's hard knocks in life that produce rocks not in
strife, but souls carrying scars that shine like bright stars, not
ugly and bad, perhaps a bit sad. They are badges of honor if we
choose them to wear, for carry them proudly, of what others think do
not care.
Remnants of struggles once solo, no help of family
or friends to console soul, hard knocks is a term that I've chosen,
it just might help to thaw some hearts frozen, thinking to themselves
it only happens to me, now in my rhymes I hope they will see. The
struggles I've met and challenges faced, I survived an explosion once
that almost for life scarred my face, using airplane fuel for weeds,
that was all we were trying to burn, escaping death was another in a
series of valuable lessons I have learned.
Please know one
thing as on and again I ramble, with this life I never again will
gamble, I wear my scars proudly for all to see, that something good
comes from misery, but you have to get hard of emotion but never
cold, just like a rock weather resilient through the constant heat
and cold.
Hard knocks make rocks out of souls that carry the
hope, and never to choose this life hanged by rope, the same rope of
hopelessness that we have all surly felt around our throats, as the
bad hands in life inevitably dealt, float gently across our waters
like so many boats.
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The Loneliest Happiness
Whence
you have stumbled onto a creeks crossing of tears, water or blood on
this our mother earth as you journey through forests of knowledge and
feel the bite of the thorns of fear upon your thin flesh do you weep
for this? Can you travel without knowledge of your own destiny or do
you walk in a fools shadow with them as they laugh to hide the
crying? The answer cannot be purchased, souls are not bought or sold
on the market of purity, forever earned is the Carpe Diem. Skies
looked upon have been asked every question of Man, of Woman and
certainly of Child to what we serve here, answers that have been
sought through all the millenarian of passing lumen to ray without
answer for, in never for the matter spoken of whether in blood ink or
waters tear for the words carried like a feather or a rock as the
black crow sits in wait on a pole no more here there or under our
souls pillow.
Can a spirit capture itself? It must.
Within us is not the prison we some will feel forever if weakness is
the seizing and strength never drawn save for the single sword, the
doors are locked without keys, the doors are lockless now as we free
the inner being we all want to feel in every sad and moment happier.
You know the inner Phoenix better than anyone can, walk no fools
tread, keep thine own feet dry of blood to waters rain never amounted
to equal if in the cause and effect be the same for this day through
every dawn, not promises for a tomorrow to any soul, never promised
and in faith of cumber or light be the saving of the sanity precious
to the masses and cause for the growing of all things greater
equally.
My blood runs in visions and yet my breath rises
with my chest and falls with my dreams of every yesterday, all to end
in the never, once being in the place of my residence in late, if
ever whence no longer shadowed by these thoughts for benefit purpose
alone and of. Greater things can bring softer cries in darker air
breathed be it for the long as it is to the temporary, like is so
many things we feel, we love, we do, and the emotions will ride in
any vehicle so forever give great thought when it is to pick and
choose, let it be that you are careful who your hearts passengers
will be. Moons and Suns are seen too by eyes that no longer see, by
eyes that look but cannot feel, cast your light in the world you
create and manage your energy well as smiles will never tend fading
as the favor and if the shadow moves when you stop your tread,
caution slowly and know you walk not alone because there is darkness
to refresh all our light, the forewarned is the lesser challenged in
perspective hence.
Silence is not Golden like an inner
Phoenix is and can be for every spirit who believes it is okay to
dream in the daylight hours when kept in management of faculties and
things not suffered, silence is a tool used to create something
better, too often misled and hurt feelings can be warranted and
carried out like the torches of the villagers as they burn their
trolls under bridges built by creaking planks of misunderstanding.
What coat or hat alike does your happiness wear well? Is it on you?
Some will hang their own feelings on a rack in the darkest corner of
their heart, this darkness is fed and travels through your being to
escape and absorb others happiness. Is it in need for you to find
yourself alone, if only for a moment as you crawl deeper within than
you ever have? Be there in yourself for as many visits as it takes
without question and your face will smile with no further effort.
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The Golden Phoenix Rises Again
Can
a man be many things if he is not the one? Light fades in distances
unseen to eyes naked and cold in fearing the truth is never mattered
by days of whence or post if knowing is such. Can a man know freedom
if he is allowed then to imprison himself within his own heart?
Colder now are nights falling to faded days, in when to seek it's
reflection for imminence of growth to be carried on the back of the
wind as it whispers thy name softly? Answers fly with the golden
feathers of time and all it's essence of purity, never granting
promise of a new day, it's this that feeds the hungriest Souls. He
feeds with them, taking in sustenance for the dawning of the days
seen in the now and leaving the shadows in the wake of footsteps
tread by wisdoms step.
Tomorrow the light burns in only
of yesterdays light as darkness will devour the shadows and become
one and the same to serve intent befallen of wicked mind and
blackened dying tongues breath of stench upon the innocents faces for
the Moons to fade with. These faces will see the light of the torch
that lies burning inside the one or the many never the determine of
the outcome being paired to any one entity or none. It is flame not
cold we bask in, not a light to see in guidance of feeling as is the
intention served purpose for this coming of knowledge. To raise the
sky, these words make sanity ripple, has it been tried by one man
alone perhaps no, achievement not the necessary to bring it through
in emotional balance of willingness to say "I believe in
something" when knowing that hearts are taken easily to
slaughter by those broken words written in so much blood by the dark
walkers of all the centuries unbidden.
Dream for the day
of tomorrow, let the smile of your lips carry you into your nights of
restless anger when it's face is shown in a mirrors complete
reflection. Fear is nothing if cast aside, no fool walks with fear of
the unknown, this is written and lived in days of every now and will
become then. Take your own hand and walk with yourself, see what they
see in your being and be wary of the things hard to see when journeys
are less well traveled as they cannot be constant if nothing will
gain. Know who you are, be as Golden as the Sun but know that you are
forever mortal, if in this flame of understanding you burn, you will
rise again from ashes of own and be the Phoenix we are all challenged
to be. There are no answers that won't follow the winds path if in
finding you the answers are gentle as a lovers caress on your face be
strong and accepting of what the song sings to your Golden flesh, be
the music for the moment and in that your happiness is reborn for the
one and not drained by the masses.
Strength is best when
shared and is easily done so for unwicked hands, watch for the
darkening of a spirits intent it will rain upon you as you will have
it not known to your spirits own wisdom be it long to nary in time
traveled to a highway for Souls feet alone. Rise and you can fall to
rise once again with pride of commitment to inner self preservation,
to not rise is then to lay upon the ashes of your own burned
existence, the tools of torch and fuel are the body and the mind in
which there is constant burning if let tended to forever be whole. Be
your Golden self, burn away fears and pain inside and become whole,
know the duty of the promises to be kept for the longevity will be
strained by the forces that choose to cast stones upon the glass of
their own vices. Call upon the inner spirit to release your non
physical chains of binding and you can be freed from the ravishes of
your hearts pains as well. Sit alone and afraid and you will see the
light go into the darkness and bleed shadows before eyes of any color
will see them hiding. Then the fear you will feel has and will stay
real, dark walkers fear the light and they are the shadows we fear
unless a golden feather we are winged.
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