What if when we sleep
parts of our deep subconscious minds
coalesce to form their individual energies
into one superconscious entity
to cultivate our existence
What if when we are awake
we cultivate good positive thoughts
so when these energies coalesce
the entity will shine for us
What if when we die
our spirit lives on
within the superconscious
What if when we're born
our elemental tears stimulate the whole
What if...
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My presence is
less than a dream
more than a smile
equal to the chaos within
I, here in this ink, flow
only when moments and feelings
allow my blood to believe
The unmoving mid-winter day
settles to restrict her music
to nothing more than beautiful silence
I wander to the horizon
where clouds kiss the end
of ...
My presence is
more than a dream
less than a smile
chaos birthing
When the rain falls
either wear an umbrella
or embrace the storm
and dance
There is a spirit announcing a spirit of glass a spirit behind me a spirit called past There is a spirit deceiving to be what is not to be a whole thing to be my last shot There is a spirit encroaching a spirit to feel a spirit of beginning a spirit called real There is a spirit bleeding to be here with me to be my punctuation to be my reality There is a spirit within a spirit of darkness a spirit of light a spirit called yes There is a spirit... Oh my to be unspoken to be heard by me to be love's token Yes, there is a spirit a spirit without wings a spirit unbroken a spirit who sings Oh my...
When you see a bird soaring
what is it you see,
flying feathers, moving sky
or movements of mind?
When you wade into the ocean
what is it you feel,
chilled skin, soft underfoot
or softness of mind?
When you climb to the highest peak
what is it you know,
breathless scenery, free space
or freedom of mind?
Is it a reality?
Or is it that as we live in the shadows
of destruction
of pain
of sorrow & fear
of unrelenting anger,
is it that we strive
to search out freedoms in our life
to climb on the shoulders of reality
to find peace?
When surely, all we need to do
is accept the fact
that none of this is real
and we are merely a blink
on the surface of thought.
We are here for such a short time
so why can't we be free
why can't we have peace
why can't we make this our reality
instead of just a dream...
(edited from 2017, and no idea how this formatting is how it is. WordPress, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it!)
Way up beyond the blue is where candles are made
the ones that flicker within us
the ones that shine through us
the ones that melt away.
We are but a waxwork of imagination
thought up by a dying light needing something to burn.
We are flickering in our many guises of waxen dolls.
Molten bodies mix easily in the soup bowl
ready to be formed into whatever the light desires.
Yet, we flicker away
we flicker away just because our wax is different
we flicker away, unknowing that all wax is the same
be it scented, long-burning, coloured, wide, thin…
Wax is wax
and the light is fading
and the imagination whence we came
is shrinking, melting
until only the shrivelled wick of existence remains.
The light that begins ultimately dies if it isn’t fed the love of all.
Imagine the love of all flickering
imagine the candle
imagine the light.
Imagine wax moulded from imagination
melting until only the shrivelled wick of existence remains.
Perhaps one day we shall no longer need to wax poetic
perhaps one day we shall
be one race.
We are the imagined
let’s make us real
light your heart
love all
be the one candle
to ignite the race for Love.
A Gap In The Clouds 