Wake up, there's no time today
i know.
i know that there is no easy way to say
just grow...
Grow and make a life someday
and now-
go away and find your Passion-
right now? how?!
you know it
do it
live it
breathe it
every single day.
can it be found? can a dream be saved?
...
is it not allowed to as so much of a dream
can we bring the kid inside of us along?
can we end the play and start the new?
Really, what are we allowed to do?
What can we bring to tomorrow?
No- you grow
only grow...but with so many unknowns
and no time....
just do it your way.
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I wonder who this is...perhaps Ashley?
ReplyDelete...
I lived my way
live my way
and will live my way
until the past
meets the present
and melts into the future
and I become content
in this conundrum
of Possibilities.
Whatever life springs from it.
of course!!! who else could be me?
ReplyDeleteLiving that way
live what way
when lived in the direction
guided by my herders
and melts into my conscious
until i become strung on questioning
my Answers.
Whatever life springs from it.
MUWAHAHAHAAA!!
Haha, nice. Let's see.
ReplyDeleteAnd if that life were to spring into my arms, should I embrace it?
Reject it?
Be still
And hope it passes?
Wait until the fluttering of my heart
transcends into the beating of a war drum
echoed by thousands of dirt encrusted hides
and tossed about by the howling sea?
And if I take in the trepidation
wilting and dripping with my own insecurities,
I don't think I shall be bound to this earth any longer.
I would implode and there would be nothing left of me,
save for the dew that moistened my Eyes and fed my tears,
and the lips that had once so dearly kissed the lipless.
Ohhhh....well then....
ReplyDeleteSaving the moment, no matter the cost
of how dearly it affects me
how strong it stays on my mind.
to reject?
Ha.
to protect?
Ha?
to watch?
...
the feeling of waves crashing down
into an ever ending abyss known as the mind and soul
to fly into the heart and swarm for hours to come
to torment on with every action.
but then it passes
it passes?
it passes!
for those lifeless eyes do not die
at a moments weakness
nor do they stop their living.
They only wait for spring to come again.
The lifeless eyes have not stopped their living? What a paradox!
ReplyDelete(It's way easier to write depressing things, so yah...)
Waiting.
The fathomless agent of destruction
upon our dreary souls.
This blind faith was n'er put on trial
for its crimes.
How many have blown away
dust unto dust
Waiting?
Their expectations scattered
to the four winds
and dismantled by curiosity?
Waiting.
To take fools' wishes
and morph them,
their hapless love upon their love,
and obfuscate those well-to-do intentions
into demeaning dependence?
Servitude. Inferiority. Ostracization.
Waiting
is the sweating of recognition
for the spring that does not care.
Waiting
ReplyDeleteonly passes time
to reach the spring of life.
where the young grow old
and children find life in the dreary, dreamy world.
Waiting.
it gives us time to grieve our losses
gives us the hope to move on
to blow away the dust on our lives
and clear the troubles
into new paths and winds
to dismantle the natural curiosity of the mind
Waiting!
To see the fruits of our labor go on to our tables,
and into the future, past the cold winter of our past.
If the cold winter is in the past, then of course we've already passed it.
ReplyDelete...
"Our past" is not so much a conjoined being
that I would have to be bound into a collective,
like strung hay,
blistering in the heat.
This is my past and not your past,
my feelings and not yours,
so why lump us together?
We are not coals
to be shoveled into the furnace.
Or winters do not melt together,
and the same forlornness I hold for mine
are not yours.
To freeze at absolute zero,
mercury dropping ever deeper,
is to Wait?
And if that is so,
I would rather take my chances
and seize my prize
by my OWN hands.
A Hand cannot clap alone, for no sound would follow.
ReplyDeleteTo be happy must have ment you were once sad,
to have had a past must mean there must be a present.
The present is filled, surrounded and changing with each and every action...why not lump together?
with every bounce of a ball, a person is affected
known or not-
you are one.
I am one because I am my own individual.
ReplyDeleteThe sounds of clapping hands would be done
by the same hands
from the same arms
from the same body.
To be sad must have meant you were once happy.
And that same happiness would have only been made through self-evaluation and awareness.
Because it is through you that thoughts impregnante,
and giving life to thoughts that were renderings of a foreign trail,
are not even truly yours,
but false impressions in the snow.
To lump together means to lose myself,
in wretched People,
whom stagger for Truth, but do not know where to look,
for they have all forgone to comformity,
and so I refuse
to marinate myself in festering obscurity
and dissolve into balls of mud.
Dirge the bacteria,
part for giants.
If his ball, her ball, THEIR ball,
destructs, I will be pulled in.
And affected though not my own mistake, but theirs.
Mass stupidity is a current
that takes no prisoners.
My independence will never be shackled
to that fickle ball and chain.
Let Them think what They will hink,
but at least allow Me,
my universal human right,
to think what I think.
And thus, She has spoken.
Afraid not, want not
ReplyDeleteIt may seem.
To be part of conformity,
What does that mean?