Lately Ive been trying to get out of the slump that Ive been in. Haven’t been writing or photographing as of late. Most days i get out of work and I’m just drained. But recently I had one great day that helped alot. This last friday I had off work so me, my girlfriend Lindsay, and her son Devon went to the park for the day and toke the digital cameras. It was alot of fun and we got some awesome shots, the followings just the ones Ive had a chance to look at an upload. More to come.
My girl came over yesterday with a wonderful little device, an electronic pen tablet.
Your warmth meets mine.
Presure to presure.
Small moans, gentle nudges.
I grip, I squeeze.
Your nails in my skin.
The subtle traces my teeth leave behind.
Breathing grows rapid.
Clothes depart the equation.
Pulse quickening, mood changing.
The entrance is slow but right.
A rythym is established.
Ferocity ensues.
Primal tendencies float to the surface.
Animals thrashing, rocking…
biting, scratching, gripping.
Two hearts hammering in tandem.
Two voices strikeing at the night.
Two bodies seeking to be one beat.
The bed they lay on, the drum they play.
Room shaking.
Sweat glistening.
Cries in the dark.
One… last… thrust…
Muscles unclench.
Sighs escape teeth.
Breath slows…a little a first.
Then a little more.
Love now sowed…
…sleep cometh.
Fuller days i have known not,
but hollow nights?
empty twilights?
These occurrences are part and parcel.
These feet they walk,
these hands, move.
And yet I gave up
before it ever began.
Don’t they know?
Havn’t they any idea that their efforts
are all for not.
Would they even care?
These thoughts move
up and down my spinal cord,
electric wrath
chewing what is left of this bohemian soul.
Ah to be free,
to be loosed of loose moraility.
To be untethered to the bullshit of this world.
This epitaph of greed and hate,
that is our American dream,
sticks in my throat like a bad piece of sushi.
I choke.
I choke on it all.
And as I fall to my knees,
my face turning the blue of the robins egg,
I cant help but take joy in the darkening.
For it is that dark, that lonely road
that I know better then most.
My feet have dreamt of its comfort
all my life.
But as this is not the time
for happy endings.
This material existance must continue,
till and beyond my screams for it to end.
And as the torture finally starts to numb me,
and the last of my humanity drains out,
I will finnaly be what they want,
the finnished project,
the final goal,
an end of the self.
…now there is only we,
now this is only us.
Embrace me oh sweet collective,
and let conformity shape this ball of clay.
This ones mostly rambling, and im not sure i even like it, but in an effort for this blog to be pure, to be honest, ill post it anyway. Let the chips fall where they will.
If we could explain love,
then we could explain everything,
and thus life retains its primal mystery.
To know love is to know what it is to be whole.
Noone truely knows how many ticks are left
in that tarnished old pocket watch.
Noone knowns how many pages
their story will take to tell.
We are such finite creatures,
searching and reaching,
for such infinite awareness.
For each of us that walk these sun paved highways,
that look to the stars to see within their own soul,
there is so little sand left to drain to the lower glass.
This life,
but a moment in time,
is fleeting.
It is a process of ups and downs,
rises and falls,
beginings and ends.
And so as your brow rests upon your pillow,
and the day gives way to darkness,
think only of the happy hours,
the joyous moments,
and dream only…
of love.
This one was hard, couldnt quite find the words to properly illustrate the message. I may do a rewrite in the days to come.
A piece from the begining of my writing career. Let me know what you think.
Forever turning, grinding, twisting,
ever spinning gears of life.
Roaring, rumbling, angry storm cloud,
washing the blood from mankinds knife.
Imortal hate in mortal men,
deeply barried deamon seed.
An envious sky looking down on us all.
Hoping, good words, good men will heed.
For inner light, smuthered in shadow,
living in the just and unjust the same.
In a world of hate and chaos,
life is nothing but a fatal game.
So why you ask, remind us all
of the evils we make and breed,
I answer in hopes that maybe I
Can destroy that evil deamon seed.
I sit apon a stone so cold
as the fog doth take me
and the thoughts of an age so old
return to me so plainly
So I call out through the night
through the myst and cloud
and an answer to my plight
meets my ears so loud
Of the question that burns with rage
comes but one word to hear
my soul traped in the morbid cage
doth have the eye of a seer
A holy gift, the gods have granted
apon this mortal presance
The seed of change to be planted
in the garden of the peasants
For a king, corrupted so
has no place of glory
It is the man that bears no gold
that is the essance of this story
So the man, of a people in need
spirit so just and true
doth climb upon a humble steed
for he has work to do
So peacefull a man in the norm
with armor as hard as his might
for not the heavens could stop this storm
his blade will taste blood tonight.
I poem from my younger years. Personally im not chrisitan but this poem was devoted to those I knew who where and their devotion to their faith. I hope you enjoy it.
and as I sit and peer at this scene, silver stars from the heavens stream
and the landscape so peacfully serine becomes the master smith of a dream
and so the thought dose come to mind, of all the selves Ive left behind
and through all the corpses you will never find, thus lies the fate of all mankind
and so these black streets I explore, paths so utterly beautiful before
and yet thanks to the corperate lore, the essance of truth is never more
and within this conundrum I do believe, the essance with which they deceive
and so the seed to conseive, I pray for on this christmas eve
and the seed of the grace of the child, lay there so utterly mild
and gave forth the eyes of the wild, and the mouth that always smiled
and so like old he comes again, the son of god, the father of men
and like him now is like him then, for he is everlasting, neverchanging…Amen.
and as I sit and peer at this scene, silver stars from the heavens stream
and the landscape so peacfully serine becomes the master smith of a dream
and so the thought dose come to mind, of all the selves Ive left behind
and through all the corpses you will never find, thus lies the fate of all mankind
and so these black streets I explore, paths so utterly beautiful before
and yet thanks to the corperate lore, the essance of truth is never more
and within this conundrum I do believe, the essance with which they deceive
and so the seed to conseive, I pray for on this christmas eve
and the seed of the grace of the child, lay there so utterly mild
and gave forth the eyes of the wild, and the mouth that always smiled
and so like old he comes again, the son of god, the father of men
and like him now is like him then, for he is everlasting, neverchanging…Amen.
Not sure if i like this one or not, just kinda came to me while i was sittin outside earlier and I thought Id post it.
Round and round and round they go,
two Squirrels on an old maple.
I sit and watch and they need not notice me.
I am still.
I am quiet.
Here I sit upon my this old deck observing their play.
Heard to these ageing ears are the sounds of tiny claws
scurrying across the peeling bark.
Ah to sit and wonder and ponder and plot,
to think and to see and to know.
But in the end the answers are all their,
all the whys, all the hows, all the whens.
This evening breeze is all the knowledge I need,
and if it didnt teach me to breath then I know not what did.
I am but a humble student in natures lectures,
listening close to the sounds of a shifting universe.
And you may find it strange,
as i do,
that after all is said in done,
after the librarys of old fall to the ignorance of the common era,
and the last universities bar their doors,
the answers we all seek can still be found,
by watching a couple of Squirrels in a tree.
This section is inspired my friend and brother Imperservant with his blog site The Poetry corner. This site holds the work of many artists that my brother has come to admire here on wordpress. I though i might try my hand at this idea seeing that I have interacted with so many amazing poets as of late so here it goes.
The first artist I wish to mention is calliopespen. I have been readin the works of this wordsmith for only a short time, but it didnt take long for me to greatly respect her talent, expecially for haiku. Her piece Haiku 11 left me reeling. For me it carried with it such sweet simplicity and yet underneith the surface i felt their were notions of great depth available only perhaps to the writer herself.
Another masterful writer is Azfree. This keyboard linguist has a talent for the flow. Her pieces have a rythmic quality that sooths the soul. Another thing I love about this writer is her use of dualistic ananologies, something im quite found of using in my own works. A great example of this is her wonderful piece Pressed wood and laminate flooring. I found this one to be truely inspiring.
Another great site to visit as you are cruising along wordpress is Jaymie Thorne’s Personal Musings. Jamie’s works have a suction-like quality for this wondering soul of mine. I read one and I cant help but continue on to the next. One piece of hers that really hit home with me was insomnia-blessing as I have many sleepless nights myself. She is a master of her craft and one writer that I would absoluetly recoment as a must-read.
Of the many cyber savants that I want to mention today, I have been reading this one the longest. colleenincairns is a wonderful writer and has great taste in what she reads as well. In fact i wouldnt have discovered any of the other wonderful artists on my blogroll (apart from brainstew) if it wasnt for her. But enough about other people, we are talking about colleenincairns here. If for some odd reason you would choose to read just one of her pieces my recomendation is soul-purpose . This piece has a crystaline elequance unmatched by much of what i have read on wordpress. If you choose to pull those reading glasses out for anything today heres your chance.
Another wonderful writer and great source of advice and inspiration is Sara Fryd. Many of you probably have heard this name on WP before. This is because through the many blogs I have read almost all of them contained a comment from Sara. As I was reading her blog I found myself stilled and quieted by one piece in particular, entitled Treasures.
And last but certainly not least is my brother and roommate, Imperservant/EthotericThought. This man is a wonderful poet/ philosopher and pours so much of his time and energy into his work, and for these reasons I beleave he deserves all the recognition he can get. Now my true recomendation is that you read all his works, but for the purpose of giving you a start point I would point you to “For sooth I tell you the good news”.
So If you are a fan of poetic musings as I am please take the time to check out these WordSmiths and Keyboard Linguists, and dont be afraid to leave them a comment or two if their work moves you. I know it moved me. Thanks for reading.
-13rotherVVolf
Words for Words