January 22, 2008

Paper Moon

After crumbling my last sheet of paper.
I finally understood what had eclipsed me.
I had nothing to say.
Nothing to write beyond the spaces.

Nobody would care to question why the corrosion of self reliance is wisdom.
Everyday I feel strange because I do.
Because beyond ordinary is brittle words.

Every once in a while I debate the wake of my words.
Is being sensitive without showing emotion a curse?

January 21, 2008

A Graduate of Inner Sanctum

I think before honor.
Love in symantics.
My degree is in apologies.
Exposer is,
and invertion isn't.
Affections rise,
Vunerability denies.
Before reign is commottion.
After fury is fatigue.
And, peace is the center of sanctum.

January 16, 2008

Happiness Can Fall From Rainbows

She is from a rainbow.
Vast in the colors of life.
Brighter than sunshine.
Cleansed from heaven itself.
She was born the bounty of my something sweet.
A true blessing onto my heart.
I didn't know love could go beyond blessings.
But, harmony was in my arms.
And, peace was the soul survivor.
She is from many small stars.
In and out of the twilights.
A world within my new world.
My emotion beyond love.

January 14, 2008

The Great Divide

I don't want us to separate our feelings for one another. I am tired of the restless bed sheets. We could sleep soundly if we would only communicate above the fights and fires.

Too many arguments? Perhaps, we expect too much. Perhaps, we say too much. We are both to blame for the open soars we have inflicted. It is our aggressions that has become our wall.

I still can see through the foggy windows and glimpse at our first days. We were truly in love. We warmed the cold nights and laughed until the clouds were upside down.

Too many apologies? Perhaps, we said too much. Perhaps, we said too little. By now we've heard it all.

The clouds that cover up the moon are not forever. If we stick around long enough its light will shine. Our love is a reflection of light. We need to stop forecasting gloom at one another. Perhaps, we could start again.

January 11, 2008

The Day I Lost Journalism

I was buried when I finally came to my senses.
It was time, to become a man.
It was time, to become a patriot.
It was time, to feed my bottom line.
There were no flowers on my grave stone.
Tears and sentiments went by the book,
and this book was written of lost dreams.

I reflected a quiet casket of sadness the day I woke up.
I will not be a voice of the people after all.
It all got lost in translation, lost in economics.
Tomorrow and it's other days will find me behind a shadow.
It just won't be my shadow.
Freedom and sacrifice are now edged on my forehead.
Without soul, without a light,
I live for food and drink without salvation.
My passion has been rendered cheap and without much enterprise.
Armed with only a few survival instincts,
I step aside without much use to pad and paper.
I was made a victim and became my own killer.

January 9, 2008

A Universe Of Self

The week turned into another new year and I still don't want to be alone. There is no dimension for silence. Seclusion is the bondage I wrap my existence around. When did I go into my black hole and let loneliness separate me from my eternal star? I am more afraid today than ever before of my current standing with the sun. I am a great distance from where I once was as a man. Nobody can make me happy, when I myself don't know what happiness is.

January 6, 2008

The Storms That Cloud My Judgements

What is the weather when I am isolated in my own thoughts. My mind is supposed to be my umbrella. It will shade me from the suns of laughter. It will block me from the winds of inspiration. It will shield me from the rains of fury.

Perhaps I think too much and therefore forget to feel on the inside. Maybe I am as serious as I am mysterious. My thin and straight laced exterior gives blame to my thick blood and conservative brainstorms. My beliefs are strong. I stranglehold myself with the obsession that my life be clean and organized.

Peace within memories and protect me from my amnesia. Peace within love and protect me from laziness. Peace within compassion and protect me from intolerance. Peace within pleasure and protect me from my addictions.

January 4, 2008

Good Side

I'd like to address you as my good side. Address you with stamps, lick your envelope with kisses.
There is a part of me that takes pleasure in your emotion. The same part of me that takes comfort in your bondage. The true nature of my beast is within your bosom. I am wild to the sense of your touch and feel.
I'd like to appeal to your sense and grace and return to you the same generosity for that which you have given me. I'd like to unpeel all the layers which have made you the beautiful woman you are, and carress the fine fragrance within your embrace.