The View from My Window

It came back to me as soon as it began,
Something of a reminder,
Murky memories ready to exapand.

Past artifical clarity,
Past preception of depth.
Lifting fog, golden light on the levee.

What was it? A view from another world.
The same scene: tears from heaven, tears on earth,
Spirit clouds and and a rapturing murmur.

Reflections in the sky and on the ground,
Images reverberating like echoes.
So much beauty in so much sound.

I stood where I was, not faltering then
Nor do I falter now as the waves pass.
Released from the sky, cleansing intent.

It reminds me of my homeland.
It reminds me of glimmering streets,
Hushed thoughts, simplified plans.

Harder and harder, clearer and clearer
Almost as if I stand there now,
Nature and time gives me a glimpse and suffers me no further.

Like a waking dream these paved streets vanish,
The skin of the Earth born again,
Washing away this complex world with a simple kiss.

People, not worried with goals, schemes, persuits
Pass along hidden in the misty onslaught.
No, not onslaught, rather, the musician’s tune.

A simpler time, unrivaled beauty in its heart,
Intentions of day by day,
Revelations at its end and its start.

But as soon as it begins it must ends.
Hard streets, Man’s mark as far as can be seen,
Why must we destroy what Mother lends?

From this man made clarity conjures my home,
Memories gone past, not lost,
Something far from this world of stone.

My home, my home
I view it through a veil
Amplified by heaven and Earth alone.

When the veil parts and the world turns to silver glass,
Beckoning me is home,
The silent Earth, the mist rolls past.

Silent Road

Cacophonous whispers fill the air.
An illuminated perspective, a golden glare.
Like a droplet of rain upon my soul,
A refreshing sight, I’ve missed it so.

The heat of the day reminds me of the love,
A feeling that I lost, so long ago.
Glimmering shadows intercede the wild greens,
I am all but lost within this dream.

I look upon the sky, the great azure.
My thoughts stray back to those times before.
You were all but mine, yet I was such a fool.
Lost in my concepts, all that I’ve misunderstood.

What use is this cold, oblique rationale?
When all that I find is where I have failed?
The din is deafening, I cannot endure,
Without a day I cannot share with yours.

But when I dream, I’ll see you there.
On the silent road with a golden glare.

Spring’s kiss

Warm nights on my skin,
The air, laced with sweet honey,
How content, this soul.

Coffee

Smokey swirls on the surface of my coffee,
Trance like, but not ethereal.
How I want to discover its depths,
How I want to move like it: free.
Yet anchored I am to the reality of things,
Not a swirl, but a stone.

Philosophies

This one is about my experience with capoeira and how it makes me feel. I can tell you that not a lot of things make you feel more alive than being in the center of a roda.

Rhythms rising,
No conflict.
Just a turn,
Just a spin.

Echoing explosions
With each clap.
Driving me on and on,
round and round.

The song, the singer,
Voices ringing to heaven itself.
They do not inspire fear,
They inspire to inspire.

I see it in my opposite’s eyes,
Electricity firing into mine.
It is but a dance,
It is but a game.

To live by a rule,
To die by another.
A philosophy of movement,
Maelable, free like water.

We are opposites,
Yet we are the same.
Within the circle, we are spirits.
External, we are the shell.

Voices louder now,
Another twist, another turn.
Inverted reversion.
Expand, contract.

This is the philosophy of movement,
This is the philosophy of life.

Remind Me

Well that was a long Hiatus. Hopefully I’ll start trickling on some more as time goes on.

Spiritual Seances of bygone days,
We beg in turn for deliverence.
Life and death,an ethereal complextion
On the face of space and time.

What we shed is golden tears,
Left from a time lost and gone.
We seek a rising tide,
Only to be swept away by the infinite.

What is the use of holding on,
When what we have is lost and gone?
Without a question, the devil rises.
I hold in my hand an empty vessel.

Rumminations on the ifs and whys,
Lead me to answers unfounded by you.
A golden moon rising higher and higher,
Laying waste to my doubts and fears.

Your skin, so soft on mine,
But you are too far from me.
My faith, often shaken, is reminded
When thoughts of you stray across my mind.

Terrible, yes, life is.
Depth defying, our suffering.
But hope cannot die when hope still lives,
Like a reminder of you.

A golden moon rising higher and higher,
Laying waste to my doubts and fears.
Half a world away you are from me,
But the other half I hold with you.

Lost in Futility

Deconstruct and reconstruct.
The ephemeral nature of man.
Rash realization without luck,
Like time captured in sand.

How a truth is but an echo,
How a belief is like a sound.
Random resolution like a stones throw,
What really is cannot be found.

What is good?
A dire predicament.
How simple, yet misunderstood,
How empty, this statement.

Truth unrealized,
Truth never found,
Masked behind humanity’s guise,
Only the dead wear the crown.

Shadows of a Drop

It came as a crash,
thunderous, unerring,
relentless as it came,
It would not pass.

Torn between love and hate,
It brings life and death.
A sublime beauty before me,
If only I wasn’t in this cold state.

Unspeakable as I rush before it,
Will I make it without
It soaking me with its penances?
Tears beyond are tears unfit.

I sought a refuge not unlike yours,
But each echoing drop,A reminder as it were,
As these regrets continue
To pour, pour, and pour.

No this refuge will not do for me,
I seek a solitude in this torrent
Unknown by all.
Is this what it means to be free?

It washes and cleanse,
Drowns and diminishes.
Lights flicker before it,
Solemn in what it intends.

What comes over me, I do not know,
But a rapture of thought?
An echo of truth?
I am very cold.

The rage is almost gone,
The final hurrah,
I bathe in the glory of absolution.
Lost is this painting that I’ve drawn.

As soon as it began
Is as soon as it ends.
The world’s sigh of relief,
when the sun shines again.

The Sea

The darkness enshrouding me,
Systematic punishment,
for crimes not committed.
I sat silently by the sea.

Roaring, the crushing feel.
How a serene moon did nothing,
to ease this rumbling.
But I sat by the sea.

Funny, in a sense, this cyclical fear,
Turning our fate beyond
Something so far forgone.
I sat by a raging sea.

An unending torment from whence I reel,
When does silence come,
From this madness, this echoing sum?
I am consumed by the sea.

Infection

My sort of Poe-ish attempt at vivid imagery.

Deeper deeper deeper,
the wound goes.
Rip and tear at it,
Only to find that there’s nothing below.

A hollow existence,
Shamelessly bound.
The medicine, the tonic,
Until an utterance is not a sound.

Frankly, I think,
This world would be better off,
If our words and our turns
Accounted for everything lost.

Collapsed and petrified time.
A shallow view of things to come,
Bar the senses
Like a whilring spiral spun and spun.

How odd it is this life,
Mere existence, buried exceptions.
A clock ticking through the walls,
Invading the mind, a perverse infection.

Doctors orders,
Take one every hour.
But do take care to stop,
When the sounds grow louder and louder.