When One Does, The Other Can Only Imagine

We in our constant tangle of thoughts and reason and need

for clarity,

we are certain to be the victim of an insecurity,

in a time of words,

when suddenly the meaning,

strikes us in the heart,

our soul,

begins to ache when trying to find an answer,

to know the future,

we wonder about all the things we cannot have

in the moment,

yet,

are they still going to be available then,

when,

at a time we imagined otherwise.

 

We live in the quiet of our mind,

only to find we can often sense the other,

just a matter of knowing

when is the right time.

 

Who can possibly predict the future,

when so many signals,

so often the same routines,

goals, desires, passions,

when the human condition continues,

to wind the wheel,

the master plan.

 

We might only allow ourselves to believe,

there is truth, we just need not fight for its reveal.

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To Know The Right Way

Oh, to go beyond the grasp,

the tangles that keep reminders alive,

there is the mystery of the mind,

what to turn off, what to feed, what to settle in,

so that moving forward seems a reliable

resolve to the repudiating repulsion of time.

 

Yes, without speaking in tangible terms,

leave it to the eyes to interpret,

disclose, determine in words,

what shall be thought to reserve judgment.

 

When standing on the street,

look into a man’s eyes,

is he relaxed, skeptical, terrible

in this seeming expression on a hot summer day.

 

While sitting in a local cafe,

she buried her face in paperwork,

a bomb goes off nearby and she doesn’t twitch,

for in our world we don’t feel explosions,

we only create war inside our brain,

that is the place we store the fuse, the powder keg,

the nuclear option to saving grace.

 

Oh, the notions of moving forward,

to know the right words,

to recognize complete action,

beyond simple presumptuous fiction.

How can a world determine,

peace,

when locked into the tenets of this

seemingly societal scrutiny,

makes allowances,

to suggest the human condition,

is flawed.

Depression Seldom Defines

There is a part of me remains inclined

to let the world imagine me undefined.

That’s originality

or our quest toward individuality.

What’s my reality,

I’ll tell you only if you listen to me,

but there’s the struggle,

the obstacle between knowing and telling,

is the inherent nature of a sadness

overcomes our own desire to rid the madness.

 

While embarrassment can often expose

the true nature of the demons we hold,

our lives always remind ourselves that human nature

in all of its evidential plan to feature

mystique and an inherent chance to change,

still mocks the true reality of our game.

If we could wake to splendor every breaking sun

what would cause the need to wonder of our pain

if it became a surreal memory

rather than the constant reminder a soft cry might bring.

 

If we could know when to rely upon a need

might then our lives become less overshadowed

by a society suggests we always understand

rather than accepting confusion as a demand.

We are subjects of appraisal,

in the moment,

when while alone in our mind we do travel,

there are always a set of eyes nearby,

to ponder, to wonder, to initiate our own sense of

quiet surrender.

 

Oh to be that muse of everyone in their daily ongoings,

to know the key to survival in a storm would be our knowings.

In Depression’s Grip

I wouldn’t say imagination,

instead, a spiral of twisting metal,

cracked concrete well below,

the shavings of slivers and dust where the legs go.

A night sky that looms in sunlight,

clouded thinking,

to the degree of a natural flight,

over here, this time, that afternoon, one year

in my life.

I sometimes want to cry,

cleanse the rings of deceit around my eyes,

then it’ll be okay.

Though that song plays out its course,

like a top 40

I tire of hoping for predictability

shed some light on

what the hell is the matter with me.

A rant,

is an opportunity,

if we can remove ourselves from

commonality.

I remember the time I was told to stop boring people

with sad old cliches.

It worked,

I no longer use cliches.

I wonder about tomorrow

as fatigue melts away my desire to go away.

Good Morning Words

Fresh air is invigorating minds

Eyes slow shadowy idyllic dream scape

Sweet good morning shed an overnight cape

Rise in beauty of life the sun reminds

~

Energy respond in positive current

In mirror negativity loom near

Always a knock, anticipate a fear

Human condition delivers assent.

~

We chose alone a state of mind today

Yes, there is listening, a sure fanfare

In evidence our nature seek a dare

A manner of speaking supports our day.

~

Good morning to beauty, good morning you

Sunshine light our lives, ignite the sky blue.

While Eyes Remain

Shapes and sizes, designs

alter the world around us

give us all indicative signs

decaying lives incredulous

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

A cosmetic journey it becomes

wardrobed fashion and trend

we all know how love succumbs

pretty lives in highlights defend

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Kiss the sunlight in olive

tones while our summertime

blues come crashing, we live

inside a day, perpetual climb.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Lines begin to travel an unwind

across our bodies we see age

in all of its glory there to remind

us today is now our surreal sage.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

I walked alone inside a crowd

of onlooker seeking resolve

with how to still inspire proud

recollection of life’s absolve.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Standing close you held hand

so while the sunlight blind me

I could once glance in the sand

in same young eyes, I could see.

~

Sheltered sweet soul we release

While eyes in love we find peace

Synaptic Delights

Vibrant

God's Clock

flash a mystery

we haven’t the ordeal

ahead of us, behind, around us

only memory

something spectacular occurred

from a distance we noticed

perhaps a falling star,

might be a meteor.

Walk inside my dream

see me come alive,

my brain a functioning factory

synapse heaven in every regard.

I will explode with a fever

its alright

we all have the possibility

of proving to the world around us,

we can lose it regularly,

like anyone else

sparkles, a mind’s challenge