This Tired

My body resists

this tired,

Rebukes this tired,

Evades this tired,

denies and expels this tired,

tries to escape

this tired…

My body fights this tired;

Because it don’t have time

to be

this tired.

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Whimsical Logic

Took a few days off,

Now I’m back with another one off

the top of this dome,

where whimsy and logic freely foam.

Pen keys open

[the] doors to my haven.

Writing a sweet freedom;

stories of belong,

Wistful strains of home

My soul’s siren song.

Love In Flux

You don’t understand my love.
You don’t understand the depths of its deep,
the flows of its flux.
Like rivers, like oceans,
terrifying bottomlessness –
Weightless heaviness
like stepping unexpectedly from the shallows.
You don’t understand my heart,
How its every beat creates rhythms
that know dance,
Yet there’s no dancing
When we touch,
Only chemistry
and electric calm.
You can’t fathom these expressions of
Passion
that arise in your proximity.
And sometimes I can’t either;
though so often I try.
Attempts muddy the waters between us,
Still we can’t get enough.
And I don’t think you realize that I’m yours…
Because you don’t understand my love.

Wayward Fallen

Make way for
my wayward brother,
not soon behind
there comes another.
My brothers blinded
to fate and wonder…
Journeys shorn short
by converging thunder
of badge and bullet,
that angrily trill eternity’s song…
Clutching one another;
they dance erratically
to glory’s gong –
Threads of bloodborne melody
woven into harmony of wrong.
Once a luminous life
now fading into death’s tome –
And my wayward brothers
never again find their paths home.

Inse[FEAR]ities

Afraid to go inside,
afraid of what I’ll find,
Ego still survives
Its death elusive and unkind.
Ego drives fear;
Loneliest passengers alive.
Inner truth divine
it’s solace soul seeks to find…
Fear of better
fear of worse,
But only at times.
Insecurity abound
spilling to the ground
Bespoken anomaly
Things of thought fleeting…
Whole and broken still,
the struggle gets too real.
But…
Only for a second
does reality approach identity;
Blurred between the lines
There are times I lose myself,
but only sometimes.

Edge of Midnight

Sleep often comes as ocean

lapping gently at mind’s sand

eroding anxiety’s broken shells

as its waves bequeath tiny gifts

of tacit calm.

Unexpected treasures

root deep in consciousness;

Each breath such great freedom,

every dream requited bliss…

Waking moments are magnum opus –

humble masterpiece of joy.

And each single moment

is blessing and curse alike,

choice is Karma –

destiny its design;

I sit at midnight’s edge

watching abundant seas of cosmos

relinquish darkness

to peace.

Not Me (A Bad Day)

I’m not myself right now,

and that’s okay…

I can’t be “normal,” or “happy”

every single day.

I mean, I could try, but then on the flip –

you’d only ask me why.

I’m not me, currently –

But I’ll be fine.

I’m just warning you

not to waste my time.

The truth is,

I’m in a bad mood.

Because I’m entitled to those,

everything can’t always be hunky-dory,

I suppose.

I guess that today

is just one of those days

where I can’t get it right

no matter what anyone says.

And I don’t really care,

that feeling just isn’t “there”…

That pretending to feel something I don’t –

I’ve never been a good liar,

so I won’t.

I won’t smile, or laugh, or joke,

because I don’t have the desire to invoke

the mirth of those around me – how can I,

When [presently] I’m not even happy?

I’m not trying to be rude,

I just need time to brood.

I guess what I’m really trying to say,

is that I’m having a bad day.