Untitled

The bridge calls

Desperate souls

Who already began

Free fall.  A downward

Spiral that ends with

A splash.  

Hello Sunshine

Dear Misery,

You are

The company

Of left overs

And afterthoughts,

I bid you farewell!

We were good friends

In wallowing, and you

Held me up...

Well,

Upside down

in shallow water.

I drowned,

And now reborn

In realization 

Through self-reflection.

I did not like what I saw

In the mirror of truth,

And I had to cut you loose.

I had to cut you loose!

Writing on the bus

Red lips are a weapon

No man can overcome.

They pierce through thick

Skin and bone, striking

Straight into the heart.

Red lips are a weapon.

Kisses rain down weakening

Defenses.  She pulls the

Strings of love, and I cannot

Resist. Futile attempts to

Stay in control fail.  I am

A prisoner of war.

Red lips are a weapon.

Passion blinds, and we are

Lost to time.  We are lost

To time.  She know the inner

Workings of my chamber,

The mechanism that makes

Me tick, and she dances on

Fragile glass, cracking shards

As she moves along.

Red lips are a weapon, and

They do destroy.  Epic devastation

In the wake of their use, total

Annihilation.  She dances on fragile

Glass, laughing in his arms, 

Spinning in his arms, smiling

In his arms... In his arms.

Red lips are a weapon,

But at least she's happy.

The Hermit's Journal #8

Overcast days still can't stop UV Rays.

It's easier to hide, on a bus or at work,

Dark shades and cap, words seldom

Break lips as life collapse.  No one sees

Clearly, even I on the outside am just the same - never stepping outside my comfort zone. 

Wake up, my dreams speak truth.

My skin still burns underneath the veil,

Crisp and peeling, shedding the old 

Fearful self - a new birth begins,

Through pain comes life.

I stand above a roaring ocean,

My voice echoes across the seas,

Peace is within reach.

Life is a choice, and how we live

Reveals the who we are.

I will no longer be idle,

Watch me run wild,

Like I was reborn to be.

Impromptu on the way to work

Set in motion,

Circular rotation

Destiny speeds

Ahead, never looking

Back.  History repeats,

Dejavu stories in time,

War is always the same

Story lines, just different

Characters playing similar

Roles. Reason is never

Responsible, madness and

Selfish ambitions dominate.

Lust, greed grow, and destiny

Cycles around, spinning 

Perpetually throughout time.

The People sit idly by, pawns

In the hands of power, 

Where is Love?  Media blitz

Blurs information, and everyone

Believes they are so informed.

I sit with my head in the sand,

And I let life pass by - why?

There is nothing left to give,

Emptiness and shallowness

Rules the roost - where do we

Touch? Heart's bleed green,

We do not Ned, just want.

The Hermit's Journal # 7

Emotions interfere with rationale,

And yet, they make life worth living...

Passion holstered is a sad existence,

Why be afraid to be free.

Contemplation considers all,

Lack of action is our fall.

Strips of white twist into

A blue background. Up,

Up is where I keep my eyes.

I never seem to see the ground,

Stumbling, scraping knee and chin,

Always rising, silently with a grin.

The strips of white change to red,

And blue darkens into black.

Thousands of eyes begin to look

Down, watching me fumble around.

We stare at each other until the light

Comes and vanquishes the night,

At least for now, but I'll be alright.

The Hermit's Journal - Entry 6

No rhyme, or reason,

Words just arrive

Like a feather floating

In the wind. Time passes

By as I gently free fall.

No beat, or drum marching,

Just silence in a moment.

The Hermit's Journal - entry 5

Life rushes over me like a flash flood.  Most people, at least I think, would see these things approaching, or at least be aware of the warnings on the news.  I am disconnected from the system, and I sit in the wilderness, life, hiding in the shelter  I have built to keep others out.  

I am a dreamer, and obviously unrealistic.  There is always a way in, no matter what defenses we have in place. Nothing could stop Her, my defenses were useless.

She arrived silently, working down the street from me.  My words had not been formulated into print then, it was just raw and pure randomness.  We interacted professionally for a few months, never really speaking of anything more than what needed to be said.  I honestly don't know how she maneuvered to bypass my defenses, or maybe I went on the attack. When you're drawn to someone, it's like an overwhelming force that just pulls you.

She became my Muse from a distance, and I became careless and reckless. I began to write random poems, and sharing thoughts that she always said was profound.  I am simple, flatter my ego and I fall.  

S words

Seldom seen scenes,

Sweetly seduce screen.

Secrets swift, swell 

Slicing safety's shell.

She slid softly,

Squeezing shoulders sore

Speaking sublime sentences

Seeking subtle styles

She speaks spoken word

Stories shadow situations

She's seen... She shouts

Sorrowful, soul shattering 

Screams.  Standing still

Searching skies, seas 

She seeks someone

Just not me.

Untitled - On the Bus to work

Beauty is rain

Soaking earth

And clothes,

Beating drums 

Cleansing aroma

Inciting peace

Touching every sense.

Grey days 

Sweep by

And brilliance

Breaks through

Into colors

Bright, demanding

To be noticed.

She demands it too,

Memories of feelings

Awake, alive inside

Holding on 

To her essence,

Inspiration.

Draft - revised

My heart cries out, reaching into shadows,

Searching for Her.  She still pulls at my heart,

Even though she is now a ghost, unseen.

Her voice is whispers in the past, dancing

Within my ears. She lives in dreams, alive,

Drawing my soul towards inspiration.

She left a remnant of her being wrapped

Around me like a shroud.  I feel the peace 

In Her presence, and I wonder if she

Still feels mine. She is a one way street, and

I live in her shadow, searching for light.

Draft -

She still pulls my heart,

Though she's a ghost now,

Unseen, Unheard,

Just felt... drawing 

My soul towards

Inspiration. She left

A remnant of her being

Wrapped around me

Like a shroud, laying

Me to rest.  I feel

The peace she gave 

Me, I feel her presence,

And I wonder, does

She feel mine? Is this

A one way street? Does

She hide in the shadows

Avoiding me?  

Alive, I am raging with life,

And it is wasted inside.

I search my essence because

I believe she is there

Caressing, nourishing,

Encouraging....  She is

A friend, my muse, and

She left me... Not alone,

But with a piece of her,

So I can go on.

People often crumble in life,

We have to pick up the shards

And put our life back together.

It often looks different afterwards.

I look back with joys and regrets,

Knowing I handle everything wrong.

I pray she is well, knowing all along

She is aspiring and inspiring,

As she floats along.

The Hermit's Journal - Entry 4

I don't understand why my mind shuts down in social situations. It just does.  I believe it is easier in this day and age for us awkward people to be alone.  Everything is at our finger tips, technology makes it so.  It's easy to escape the loneliness, though I feel it makes it more difficult to accomplish anything.  

I don't write the way I would, a hundred years ago.  I often imagine living in a wilderness and living off the land like Thoreau, one of my many ancestors who wrote. Distant relations, all those creative minds, and I sit alone observing the world from a safe distance.  

It is definitely a Brave New World and 1984 rolled into one.  Manipulation by the Mass Media keeps propaganda flowing and leaves society confused and helpless.  Society escapes into things, into desires, into technology, into selfishness..... Where is the greater good for mankind?  

I understand hard work and incentive brings out the best. I also understand suffering ad lack of the basic needs of survival.  There are families leaving in cars because the cannot afford rents. 

Who am I?  Silence.  I had in my dreams, never speaking out Against injustice.... I had inside the walls I built, keeping everyone out to protect a fragile heart from the cruelties of life.  It is not helpless, we just make ourselves feel that way.  I have open my voice, and it will grow in time.  No more silence.