Caught between two planes of existence, slumbers promise a far of lie, lost within the realms of my dreams all fingers, eyes, smiles and presence, held captive within your essence as spectres draw me from my sleep fingers cold dragging, pulling gasping as touch becomes real and I am awake, in the darkness of eternity, caught between the two planes of existence, again and again and again you are there, waiting for me to dream…. again and again and again they are there waiting to pull me from my love.
In such dreams I lose self between gentle yellow rays of sun falling from the heavens dawns melody imploding as silence explodes and I hear natures orchestra kissing my soul Awake I see only beauty between the devils shadows The perfection of flaws Purity of truth experience of being human Life
I wake in the pits of lucidity The heavy weight drowning me Suffocating on air as my blood becomes lead, and I am falling further, my axis pulling, screaming, crashing. I feel the cat laying across my hip, I feel the cold air against my skin, I hear the echo of a tv the whir of the fridge… And I am there, among the white lights, that become a rabbit that become crystals that become diamonds and still I am drowning. I hear the voices in my head whispering wake up, whispering come deeper and I know I am dreaming, I know I have slipped between the cracks into lucidity. I know my night will be filled now with an acidic aura Plunging me through a labyrinth of suffocation, color and drowning so I wake, pull myself from the claws of fantasy, spill my thoughts onto the page and hope I have somehow discovered the reset button before I dive mind first back Into the world of sleep.
Purpose… … to know my worth exceeds the grave and cradle, that each breath holds meaning and each second depth, yet, When I ponder of my existence I feel more alone than ever.
I do not wait for the apocolypse; neither enlightenment nor end days for both it seems to me pander to the reaper… … And I find no sense in surviving the darkness in wait for God’s mighty hand of justice, for what point lays in waking, breathing or ultimately kindness.
… I do not believe my woes to be the karmic debt of my Father or his before, have you ever met these men? To spend a moment in their presence is to know the strength of my conviction.
I tear holes in the ideology that we are born to die, that greatness is achieved on death, I ponder how many false martyrs are formed this way.
The same sun that will warm my soul will also burn my skin, and the same snow that ignites my spirit will freeze my heart, yet still I can be found dancing beneath them and when eventually I die, I will tell great stories of the way Gaia touched my soul, the way stars ignited my heart, the way darkness gave me light and light gave me darkness.
… And when I am before my Diety, when I am asked, am I happy to be home, I will say yes..
“But to have lived, is the greatest adventure of my existence.”
He stroked tangles into her once luscious mane,
and peppered it in the muted hues of time.
He smoothed the years across her brow
and etched his hate
within her blunt laughter lines.
He left a thesis of his dysfunction written between the grains of her invalid groin
and ringed the spoils of her scars in red ink.
He left her skin bare of kisses, of love,
of exploration or pleasure
he tamed the primal beast
he groomed her into silence
then gave her a mirror