Saturday, January 29, 2005

Ghost
I try to speak out,
but my voice is drowned out
in the ignorant chaos
of their self-obsession.
They never listen
to my constant cries
for aknowledgment.
They are blinded
by the seductive pull
of conformity.
I feel as if I am dead to them,
no more than a ghost,
the empty room that once belonged
to "that guy" they used to know.
So now, I will sit in this vacant room,
and adjust to this cold feeling
of solitude.
And I will continue to cry out,
hoping that someone...
anyone...
will be kind enough to listen,
and hear my persistant screams
and aknowledge my existence
as a ghost,
who's only desire
is to be heard.
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Wednesday, January 19, 2005

River
Life is like a raging river,
and I am caught in the flow
of the chaotic nature
of stereotypes,
prejudice,
hypocrisy
and conformity.
People fighting,
arguing over dominance
and superiority.
And as I once sat on the sidelines,
laughing to myself
at how trivial it all was,
I am now caught in the middle
of love and hate,
friends and enemies,
popularity and lonliness;
of all the things that blind me
from my true intention in life---
to be nothing but myself.
Yet here, in the comfort
of reflective solitude,
I can climb on the surfaced rock
and see how beautiful life,
untouched by man,
truly is.
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Tuesday, January 18, 2005

Imprints
When I resolve into the essence
that which I truly am,
I feel a deep connection
with every living thing.
For that which embues me
with my identity
is somehow in the other, too,
so that when I look around
I see myself, reflected.
Hidden in this union
is the wonderful discovery
that if indeed the angels
have wings---
then so do I.
And if the essence of a flower
drifts out on a gentle breeze---
then so do I.
And if the midnight sky
is radiant with light---
then so am I.
And if the silent mystery
somehow becomes revealed
in tiny dew drops fair---
then so do I.
For every lovely thing
manifests the essence
of which I am part.
So beware, my soul, beware,
and move with gentle heart
throughout this mystic veil.
For if love has left it's imprint here---
then so have I.
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Friday, January 14, 2005

Beat
The repetitive beat of conformity,
The hypnotic flow that brings the world
back and forth,
through the traditions of hate,
stereotypes and prejudice.
The beat that keeps society
in a lifeless march.
But the sufficient breaking
of an age-old habit,
from a unique,
enlightened soul---
A dreamer,
A poet,
An artist---
is enough to make a new beat,
their own beat,
which will spring insperation
to others trapped in the orderly rythm,
Creating a flow of unique sounds.
Overlapping
and harmonizing,
to make one great,
beautiful song.
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Saturday, November 20, 2004

Teenage Love
She loves me..she loves me not..
Love starts as an insignificant seed.
A wishful prayer, a tiny fire,
a playful giggle, a rosey blush,
a risky wink, a kindly smile.

She loves me.. she loves me not..
Friendship buds.
A tender understanding,
a growing warmth,
a gentle trust.

She loves me.. she loves me not..
The bud opens it's first petals to a pair of sparkling eyes,
which twinkle with a new passion.
A passion that overcomes all sense,
until finally a risky chance is taken.

She loves me.. she loves me not..
The rose opens into a beautiful ruby blossom.
Everything else in the world becomes lost
in a crazy, wild nonsense, a happy oblivion
of exhilaration; complete and total joy.

A sweet, innocent kiss in the moonlight
seals the mutual promise
of never-ending fildelity.
Cherish, Honor,
Protect, Forever.
..or until

The blossom wilts, the petals fade,
and the promises break.
But the memories of sunlight and blue skies
remain fragrant, preserved in petals of sachets
stuffed in the back of your sock drawer
and your heart.%)
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And There She Was
And there she was,
staring into my eyes as a child stares at candy.
She was an image of perfection.
Her sea blue eyes were as deep as the ocean,
and, oh, so full of mystery,
like a treasure waiting to be opened.
She could have any man's heart,
but she was awaiting MY answer to the question.
My stomach was churning like milk in a blender.
My heart was beating as if I had just run a marathon.
I was so excited that she had asked me,
not just any guy, but me.
All I had to do was get the words out, but it was to hard.
Her perfection stunned my thoughts,
yet I managed to reply in a cool manner,
the words flowing off my lips as water in a stream:
"sure,you can borrow my pencil.";)
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