Saturday, June 26, 2010

Just a note to my dear fellow folk.

This is not to systematize my blog,
but we all know this is a huge system
run on wires and unseen waves.
please kindly consider
everything on this page
They are after all copyrighted.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

a refined grunt

Something about the night,
the falling daylight.

Of the calm moonlight
foregoing the brazen daylight.

The effortless topple of a leaf,
the unbudging roots of a tree.

Still, I'm pissed.
Pissed like the yellowest shade of piss.

Conscience on my back,
always keeping me in or from my place.

What is it about?
Truly, clues lay vastly scattered.

A fresh pot of sunshine,
the hydration of swirling rain.

Will that suffice?
Oh, it must.

Monday, June 21, 2010

A tale told through a window.

At this hour the moonlit ripples of the bay is telling its own story.

"I just heard some commotion," an emerald-eyed girl of about seven peered about her surroundings. She thought she heard something different. Only if she knew it was a beam straight from the heart of the universe that awoke her. Only the deepest well of her being could grant her such a recollection. Until a fleeting moment of such certainty takes place, she will wander like every one of us who smiles at the most precious feelings without knowing where they come from.

Lunch at the beach, only to be thrown a wildly flocking blanket of savagely starved seagulls, was cut stump-short like a severed bloody thumb. Not even a wink of sleep or a muster of thought came marching around. However, a warming contention prospered as a good lay in the sun took place. A little more than a prickle of digestive juice that must have belonged to a seagull came flying onto the calf and foot. A smile on the face paralleled an internal nod. So, the seagull knows something. After all, who could question the creatures of peak-high clouds. Like the well-draped leaves of a willow tree, the afternoon hour swayed and then toppled like a leaf out of a wide-open window.

The sun came to salute the day in heavenly perfect air and light. A few questions brewed into existence as the mysteriously surreal sunset of an early summer eve sank beyond the horizon. Something gently tapped on the inside, "Even that you receive many ordinary days with bits of magic, this is surely not an ordinary day." A sure embrace was unavoidable even that the exact melody remained unknown to the observer. Still, the daylight melted with a mesmerizing blend of red, orange, and rich coral.

A little chivalry compliments the litheness of cosmic encounters.

A block away after something like a momentous reunion, stood an ol' drinking trough under yellow yet grey lights and cows were rather asleep in a mobile sense. Having steered a few miles elsewhere, a glad clink of two bottles gave way to seats under the starry fog. After a while, science determined itself a part of magic somehow. The air had something like an uncanny yet a novel familiarity that could not help but reverberate what might have been beams of universal resonance. Sometimes the air between certain entities can make like a warm blanket of sweet morning dew wrapped in a rainbow. And that was only... moments but moons ago.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Living on Borrowed Time

Is it really the case?
Are we living on borrowed time?
Where does time go?
Does it just diminish in thin air?
Or wait,...
is it the total opposite?

Borrowed time
just might be
a fictitious approach to life.
After all,
life as we know it
is as temporary as
permanent it appears
to us.

Temporal measures
fall far from
the infinite measures
we receive in feelings.

what could that say?
Something about self-discovery, perhaps...
it is like a labyrinth...

Open the vault
in the heart,..
maybe just then,
borrowed time would be no more.

Loose change for reality

My sight is angled diagonally upward.
Behind the figure of a man,
shines an utter contention
in the glare
of sunlight from high above my eyes.
The figure says with a smile
and a book in hand,
"Would this be a good place to read?"
The atmosphere feels so still
like it is a moment to let seep
in the existence
I know as mine.

Questions in the form of answers.

A cobalt blue convertible car sat on the side of the road.
It was but a faraway lone road.
A vast savanna sprawled on the other side
of the road.
Lions and tigers grazed
on the bright yellow grounds
which resembled
the terrain of a desert mountain.
I only looked away for a second.
Before I knew it,
Tex was on the other side
appearing more like a moving dot
with an figure of a dog.

"Look over there",
I was alerted.
only to notice the lion whooshing Tex
high in the air like a tossed ball arching to its receiver.
With a crouched heart,
I watched Tex land right on the ground
next to a tiger.
Still, he was like a moving dot
with the figure of a dog.

"We have to let him go."
as I looked on at the oddly tranquil ruckus
as we watched from afar.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Countdown to bliss

Do I forget to rise?
I rise
for nothing
an illusory desire...
so it seems.

For all the desires
that color this world,
nothing remains solid.
If this finds you willing
for such an angle,
it's just a big, beautiful illusion.

Only when we discover the marrow
of this floating mediocrity
in our so-called reality,
comes a waltz of clarity.

Once we depart,
shall they impart.
Then we may understand.

I tell you,
my friend,
fear no more.
Maybe believing in dreams
can take us there now.
So, tell me, friend
what is the harm
in believing...
Believe your dreams
I mine.
It's just a matter of time
before they intertwine
that we live in universal magic.

Weary like a Log in the Fog

Smeared is my mind
in the name of fatigue.
Fatigue is like a rapist
in the broad daylight.
It robs you of your strength.

Still, something about fatigue
in the daylight,...
a speckle about fatigue,
something like a hint of untouchability.
It leaves you with a dreamy feeling.
who wouldn't want a dreamy feeling
all day long,
all day long,
and then, one can dream all night long.
Not bad a bargain, right.

Just until the first star
meets the falling sky
of the night,
comes the moonlight.
It can't be all so bad.
The waking hour will come,
like a new home.
It becomes,
one star invites others
and constellations form.
Before we know it,
we aren't tired anymore.