Monthly Archives: May 2012

With Open Eyes

What are dreams,
visions to roaming minds?
So it seems.
Yet what is mild to the conscioussss
is in closed eyes sharp.
That shadowed wish
by daylight,
is a horse to its beggar
to ride in sheets.
To elope to flexible illusion
indefinite.

What is a dream,
a mere contradiction of reality?
That thirst to have it longer,
a near definition to insanity?
Are but the laws of gravity
limited to a fallen apple.
Have we exhausted all
to a point of mediocrity?
I dream with open eyes
to see clearer.

#kyoe

Advertisements

16 May, 2012 14:25

There are days when i cant speak
and in their nights, lack sleep.
Half in sheets, i lean on my bed:
pushing it to the wall,
stillness to achieve stiffness.
Stiffness to elude the old bed’s creak,
for in silence an old head leaks.
Listen closely you can hear.
A rythmic tap.
A consecutive beat
as my mind seeks more air:
more blood to think.
See whats there.
In vague pictures,
then words
then ink.

#kyoe


Heart of a story

In the heart of a strory
lies a deed:
often passed,
a memory to share a joy.
A memory to seek out a tear.
And by some, spoken to forget.

In the heat of a story
lies a seed:
often cast
to bring forth a man from boy.
To bring forth courage from fear.
To real heroes, sown to respect.

#kyoe


andikapoetry

I walk out my feet bare
into the unforgiving sun.
I the unforgiven son:
prodigal.
Only sorry to myself.
My palm relaxed.
No fan in my hand,
my judgement is at hand

i walk out bare
into the unforgiving sun.
Im letting the sun scan
through my black skin.
Let it bring to light
all about me
as it possibly can.
All that tortures me,
forces injury on me:
brings me harm.

I walk out
into the unforgiving sun.
Take all my blemish away:
get it done.
And as for this twisted life
that is stuck in a web
of lies, pain and anger
that i span,
I’m letting it spin.
Close my eyes
and listen to it crash
and burn.

I walk out into the sun.
My tears blinding me.
Making me want to run
as far as i possibly can.
If there’s a cliff along the way:
get…

View original post 81 more words


Idealess

Idealess.


Just a drop

Just a drop.


Idealess

There are times i have words
but they fail to stick
long enough for me to speak.
My hands are forced into submission
my pen falls and ink spurts on my feet.
I feel like im locked in a box
visible to none.
I feel a rush to soar with the eagles
but i have no wings.
I stand in the sun
seeking answers,
but it scortches my skin.
I wait on the rain
to wash the ink from my feet.
But hushed is its answer.
I lay my head on the wet grass
and hope that when i wake,
my pen will forge a poem
from the whole experience.

#kyoe 2012


Just a drop

On a blade of grass
i am.
with no registry:
no proof of belonging.
like a glass pearl
shining as dawn cracks.
What am i?
Just a drop

boot on grass.
boot on grass.
Here i can no longer remain.
to escape a future as mud:
to be more than a stain.
On his boot
a spot i claim.
On his boot
a spot i maim.
What am i?
Just a drop.

The dye in his boot
lets me lay
for none is the union
of drop and oil.
I sparkle.
By a cloth i am taken.
crushed and forgotten.
No lost counted
for just a drop.


New Creation

I start out with a mind desolate.
A mind with a firmament of water alone:
a dark virtual reality.
With only a conscience abiding therein.
I make light in my little world
a light that sees all,
that illuminates for me to see
and i call it day.
I let darkness be.
a darkness to hide sides of me i choose
a darkness to hide my sorrow,
my pain
and i call it night.
I create a throne
in golden streets:
a pedestal from all the rest
and i call it my little heaven.
I organise the masses of water
and call them seas, oceans, lakes, rivers
masses where i can lie on my back
and float away into the horizon.
I part the waters from dry land
so i can get a place to tread
in this journey of infinite paces
and i call it earth.
On earth, i bring forth seed
from seed, plant
from plant: fruit.
To fill my belly and quench my thirst.
I create lights
one for day
to fill me with warmth
and to scortch
they that scorn me
and I call it my sun.
One for night
to soothe me
in sleepless nights
and i call it my moon.


Curse of the unforgiven son..

I walk out my feet bare
into the unforgiving sun.
I the unforgiven son:
prodigal.
Only sorry to myself.
My palm relaxed.
No fan in my hand,
my judgement is at hand

i walk out bare
into the unforgiving sun.
Im letting the sun scan
through my black skin.
Let it bring to light
all about me
as it possibly can.
All that tortures me,
forces injury on me:
brings me harm.

I walk out
into the unforgiving sun.
Take all my blemish away:
get it done.
And as for this twisted life
that is stuck in a web
of lies, pain and anger
that i span,
I’m letting it spin.
Close my eyes
and listen to it crash
and burn.

I walk out into the sun.
My tears blinding me.
Making me want to run
as far as i possibly can.
If there’s a cliff along the way:
get it done.
There’s no one
to cry for mw.
The curse of the unforgiven son
keeps haunting me.

I walk out as the unforgiven son;
forgiven.
Fresh slate
to create
to this world
a new image
of what that i am.
No longer i run.
My pains, my tears my fears,
no longer mine
into nothingness gone.
a new creature born
forged off the midday sun,
which now hangs
in the horizon
taking with it
the curse of the unforgiven son.