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shadows and light

Oct. 11th, 2014 | 12:18 pm

Funny how the sparkling moments at their high, the summit if you will, are the shadows of beginning and end. The light that moves alo cast much in darkness deeper in reflection to its own brightness. The butterfly, a ripe fruit, the rose in bloom. Do we love them for the the symbology? The taste of the here and now because it is a picture of the dying? What is only good for this moment that soon shall spoil, but forever taken in this one moment. Memories do what memories will in the harsh fragments of the mind clawing still and breathing heavy. The only immortality that man can provide, in the thoughts and hearts of others. In struggle we pit ourselves to preserving a record of our existence in the hopes that we will be remembered after we are gone and live on n the thoughts of those who come after.

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sept 19 2014

Sep. 20th, 2014 | 03:58 am

and Skandar breaks up with me. shoe foot sky Dont think twice its alright.

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edit issues on a thought of a name remains blank

Aug. 9th, 2014 | 09:41 pm

*_______ *_______ , of stoic hidden heart, behind such careful construction made, in glimpses fleeting and moments rare are true won smiles briefly made

and as it should be

*_______ *________ , of stoic hidden heart, behind such careful construction"s fade, in glimpses fleeting and moments rare are true won smiles briefly made

That was a rather large oops in my typing. Doh, office of redundancy office.

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(no subject)

Aug. 9th, 2014 | 01:00 am

If of thou earthly goods thou art bereft
Of thy meager store two loaves alone to thee are left
Sell one and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul
—Moslih Eddin Saadi

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who decided how to b a grown up anyways

Aug. 8th, 2014 | 08:23 pm
mood: Fine

on the abusive ways we fervently want to cling to our own ignorance and selfishness and yet another day where I win but doing the grown up thing hurts


fine is the biggest daily lie we tell

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not to, naught too, knot two,

Aug. 8th, 2014 | 01:04 pm
location: searching for brigadoon
mood: melancholy melancholy
music: Rei Yasuda - Mirror

I know why the caged bird sings
lines from plays and songs and things
a fish for a fish in opposition
sits a dish of indefensible position

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soft silence a symphony of sound

Aug. 6th, 2014 | 02:03 am

even when we do not speak
do not rush do not move
silence is not something we ever really grasp
so few truly know silence
as we approach it, it loses cohesion
each sound amplifying till a heartbeat, our own breathing threatens to drown us in cacophony
This noisy silence is home
the whoosh of cars and chirp of crickets
the sounds of footsteps and squeak of wood shifting
the electronic hum thick thru warm night air
the buzz of power coating this city
and the passage of skyward traffic on flight paths overhead
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Knights Resplendent

Jul. 16th, 2014 | 10:29 pm

In curiosity we seek the brilliant emanation of color rising
Chronicled in pale reflections on blinded planes
Solomon's key in fit to locks of idiosyncratic devising
of details proliferation, in scale and measure
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contemplations circle

May. 14th, 2014 | 12:54 pm

What contemplations circle seek
the trouble with the mind is...
the trouble with the mind is....
in growth substantiated
all in focus never found
in passing thru on brightness dimmed
measured beats of yesteryear
curling along in ticks and tocks

Where do the incalculable moments go
dying as we ourselves trust we are
but for living this fragmented godhood
foul to shell as deity to image
philosophical ponderance being elementally mercurial
conceptual remembrance our steadfast friend
in that the question lives
who is to take responsibility of our childlike creations
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A thought to my lover

Apr. 25th, 2014 | 01:19 pm

A thought to the sweet standing,
the shivers of touch
built from places deep-
of wracking pleasures soft and kind.
Gilded by sunlight in color fair
in quickened pulse and tender smiling fanfare-
a thought to my lover whom I hold so dear ~
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A Looney Goodbye

Mar. 25th, 2014 | 09:38 am

O what weary paths we seek in looking for the lark
To cry upon the succession of passing many faults
Each, in kind, magnetic happenstance of dual forceful natures
to bind in gritty sameness in repellent polarity

We touch lightly, tread softly, cry out if one must
In Circuitry's impulses, keen edged with bitter-sweet sounds
In that to ward away the ilk, the name of iron stands
If only words to ward away, Salt I keep by heart at hand
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valentines day 2014 edit

Feb. 14th, 2014 | 10:38 am

The thought of you floats on the winds. Each day that passes I think a little more of you. I wonder what I should know. I think of things that might move you in joy. How do you describe the fear and the ecstasy of the moments your heart trembles? How do you show love for what it is?

Drink of me long and deep. Hold close this butterfly fluttering in my chest. Seek what heights we can achieve in this swirling desire that clings like damp from a storm. Open me up and let this heart fly free. ...

For I will give, all I have power to. I will shelter care for and protect that which you hold dear.
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translation translations

Sep. 21st, 2013 | 01:28 pm

There is a person in this world who deeply penetrates my soul
healing all the hurts from parting from another
Walking together till the sunset at dusk
I can feel you are the person to transcend my heart
keep waiting even till the end of the long day
The perfect ending to my life story come true
All because of you
I found myself
all because of you
I could make it here
you forged a bridge
to connect two hesitant hearts
Its all because of you
tears have turned into stars
all because of you
the past makes sense
Fireworks overhead as I hold your hand
as they light up the two us and I sparkle for only you
I wont ask you for forever
I stopped being afraid a long time ago
we are written in the stars
it is left up to the heavens
as long as you exist and you dont leave me
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at the end of the road

Jul. 27th, 2013 | 09:17 pm

At the end of the road, you turn back to me. At the end of the road I catch your eye. As you turn my way I know its nothing..... but a strange sad goodbye.

The salted edge of the memories, bring me close to the sky. These tears slide down as if I shall never cry again. When you call my name let it be but a whisper, and I hope the stars shine in your eyes.


Love like glass, transparent and fragile. Showing us light and a magic kind of beauty, sharp when broken cutting deep. You who made my seasons change, going far from my reach.
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The girl from yesterday gone by

Jun. 13th, 2013 | 12:40 am

I met her once
neither coming nor going
unable to stay, yet unable to leave
her voice the song of the evening,
carried on winds from another time

at first she noticed not,
as everyday must pass,
drifting, laughing, sighing-
her own amusements she kept
till gazes met and attentions flared

O the long lines of her
smooth and unstable
white as fresh cream
with hair lighter still
yet long dark lashes

I know not what wind stroked her cheeks
what ever-changing clothes
gave her both nakedness and regality
to my sight, at once
borrowed from within

Dark her eyes
no iris kept
but full dark pupils
reflecting light
as cats stalking shadows

turning towards me she spoke, she sang
in this time I understood
these curiosities presented
I opened, gave my heartbeat
with this she was satisfied

a smile, a showing of teeth
two separate actions of singular fluid motion
in her turn of dissolution,
a lasting remark remained
the lonely tear she left behind
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dotverse

Jun. 9th, 2013 | 10:10 pm

Strange that a dot could so influence life. This point, This reference, this second. The event horizon of thought pertaining to the concept contained within said dotverse. All we have thought felt dreamed known about, connected with said dot, compressed into said dot. Oh how I have ascended the heights and also been brought low just in the imagining of a single point, lit with the flurry of ever changing stars.


rusted angel
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I think of you often

Jun. 1st, 2013 | 08:51 pm

When the wind blows by, its your name on my lips. As it holds you, beats at you, caresses the line of your body, it is I that calls.

I hear your name on the winds. Each day that passes I think a little more of you. I wonder what I should know. I think of things that might move you and know frustration in not knowing where to start. How do you describe the fear and the joy of the moment your heart trembles? How do you show love for what it is?

drink of me long and deep. hold close this caged bird fluttering in my chest. seek what heights we can achieve in this swirling desire that clings like wet from a storm. open me up and let this heart fly free. ...
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I was just thinking about the after-burn of touch. A fiery trace left behind on the skin anywhere flesh met. The imprint of another. Without desire to temper, shields are needed. Hold me, pet me, love me, touch me, but let me steel my heart for this will also hurt.
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God as everyman still finds curious places. The lone eater at a diner, the cabbie, the elevator operator. The smile that terrifies. Heros and legends are made by people who rise to the occasion. Id prefer to never have to be in a situation so terrible that a need for my heroics arrived. Surely if God was present and smiling at me, nothing easy would come of it.
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Let me hear a piece of you, for my eyes see nothing. The winds whisper in your voice, the sea salts my lips with the taste of you. How I drown in this wind that calls, hungry for it. Bittersweet when the meal fills to the brim, but leads to indigestion of the soul.
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hearts morning

May. 18th, 2013 | 06:42 am
mood: quixotic quixotic

So as the day breaks, my heart can no longer hideaway
It spills, from every pour
Like the sun washing over everything
I cant hold back

Heating up, and warming all that I touch
chasing the darkness from our sky
kissing my world honeyed slow
while I rise
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My hummingbird

May. 10th, 2013 | 12:59 am

Wingtips fluttered in paces innumerable, Seeking to ascend, soar, and alight. Flashes of color spilling forth uplifted from this chest, only to live in the space between crying out. Gentle vibrations devout and impassioned flooding our sensory pathways.

This beating heart, trying to fly free, lives on in my throat. The 2 things say the same thing to me.
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deafening

Mar. 14th, 2013 | 02:24 am

I want a little room where the silence is deafening
a space to dry out all my tears
something that stops all the ghosts from screaming
that becomes the desolation in my ears

wipe away the brine that sticks to the edges
clear away the muscle and blood
show all the stoplights I have overrun
black puddles left in the wake of the flood

so we dance
across the sky and the night
so we dance
rhythms long since gone
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