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Showing posts from September, 2008

if only the hotrod stopped here

It may seem poetic, prophetic perhaps

I love the way it cripples me
its always the same as it penetrates
too far to be able to feel
itches so much it starts to hurt
but so good,
scratching only the mind
and without body,

one starts to feel

enjoying only a beyond, a gone and a never to be

magenta itch
you only feel to believe
but crippled
clinging to feelings of a body
its only done for yourself

its funny how reality always comes harder, how it forces you into being
massive amounts of remorse and.... so of just being!!??
so its only in us all to just let go, but we don't know when feels right?? forever afraid to fall, ever just happy to let being, by, live, smile and feel. So we cling. To negatives that are not so then but are as a cumulative
just needing to be accepted hurts more than torture itself
save for all the smoke

as naked as this life

one so few and surely so many
time behind a veil only to show itself in perhaps our weakest moments

its only a start that i look for in life, I'm always happy to be coming along for the journey but i do wonder where it, i, you started. what do you feel is the beginning?? have we seen it perhaps. there are many out there within us that feel they have become what is the beginning, and i enjoy their stories, their tales (tails : ) perhaps though still discontented to imagine that i too should not be able to see it

you feel it as the itch that sits nowhere and cannot be scratched, you feel it as you see the moon rise over the sun, you hear it when a baby cries and when tears fall, but are we allowed to experience it perhaps??

suppose that it has gone or was not even for us to know at all? so what then of those that profess, confess and dissolve into our hearts. i believe that we all should, but not always could be allowed, to experience divinity in our lives. now divinity is but jus…

my meditation

i don't enjoy this tone but feel that (led by the soft hand of scotch, yes on a Monday) it is necessary.

when you are walking through your street, in a metropolis or not, and you see a gentle soul that stands in your path. you know that this person will be asking you for money, for a donation. they are not a beggar though you feel the need to perhaps treat them with such required indignity. they are not a nameless face as they wear their charity (and heart) on their sleeve.

but still, you walk by. this i do not detest. we all live lives that are complex and beautiful at the same time, not always able to co-exist in the present as the future or perhaps the past is seeking to keep a hold on our thoughts.


so we see this person standing before us, in the street, in YOUR path and what do i see most of you doing?? it's like thay have a painted ring of roses on their door, like as a leper you can see their body parts falling from them, limbs dropping from their torso as you…