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you call to me, and the dull aches of my heart
tell me that repeted moments, away form the knoldege of you
are not good
But I will savor then, your company
That much more.
In short,
you get a really big hug tommorow from me.
Living pain, and living joy. somtines I fear our worlds are to far apart for our own good. No; it is not you, nor me who is to blame. We, as a population, as a huge mass of individual thoughts and feeling, we are each thrown into our own personal frying pan. We are all laden. yet so unequaly we begin ! still; now tha you and I are well in life what to do? could I only take away the bad that plagues your lifes circumstance. This is not possible my unfourtunate freind. Oh! dear one, how may you escape? To learn to love I would say. Only so far will this take you? I question... or if you may learn to love eeroe and all thing. starting inside and working outwar; by spreading good, and living that good; will you escpe? I will not always be here, besides you, and i fear much uglier foes, more horifcic mental demos will come to frighten you into reignastinon. what then? It is the traning you get now from your frst set if circumstanes that will save you later. Learn with me, and we will live and love together
in mid days lust, loving the air we search the skys
here before us lay the sleeping ruins we will become
Crubiling... Ever crumbeling beneath our feet, we smell the moss, the mold, of years to come,
in sweet summer heat.
fire consumes! so true, so that all flyes away inthe winder but the curmbiling ashes. It is the breath of the pure, it is loves scoprching tounge that may carees you mellow skin untill u cry in pain, but you are already engulffed in its violent caresses. Fallign inward in to the Explosive estacy of Falling forms, u relize in lst moments all the good, and the bad goes runing scared. An dthe u hit the gorund, and ur thoughts draw blank
breack....breack apart.
In screming Silence
The moment slows, and freezes in place
Expresions of fierce agony, twistine contorting forms/
stop.
just stop aand look around, the ships in th distnace and the water below,
are we falling togethere now?
Have u relized it? stuck in forzen embrace the sea calls of the depth crtures, low and high, clal , and pirecre, yet lift and we float, may float so gently, along in the silense of thire buitifull harmonys
in moments we may never die.
This intense darkness, so surrounds me. Pressing firmly into my open mind. The gentle, sleeping breath of a dormant house flow through the air. Tic, toking of the clock and weary muscles call to sleep. Only further into the night will they take me. As much as my mind begs for peace, tranquilty evades my roving fingers. Wandering trough sleepless troubeled thought in peacefull world, fledgling dreams are smashed. Only to grow from smoldering wreckedge it's buitiufull offspring. They beg to be born in my unconsious imaginaion. To keep them dead. only to see the nights creation. Only becuase I am begged so strongly to stay in normal bounds of exploration, do the creacks beyond the lamp light intrigue.
Maybe some other day.... now i sucumb
In love, love with life, there are eyes that see the sun rise, that see the dusk.
Sielent pairs of eyes, ever whatching and playing. Walking down the street quickly,
On our way somehwere, if you whre to she them on the street then, you coudl tell who they are.
Thier stride woudl be confident and thier eyes would hitn at buitifull insanity. Thiere expressions are there so solid, but read bewten the lines, in the eys, you see Thier creed written on the inner walls of thier skull. "hears to the crazy ones"
And they woudl stop then and look at the sky, and time woudl freeze and silence would coem, liek it often does in the movies at times of revaltion. And there woudl be nothign in that space exept them. In that moment, removed form the passage of time a snap shot is taken .
Like softcore pictures of true lovers, life makes love to them.
Adn then they are back, once again wlkaing in e street hurring somwhere, ecept they carry lifes schild or nwo that life carries thiers. And it will come again, and in silent passionb reaitirate, the only simple truth of buety. that life is buetifull. and it will alwasy tell you that, in the sunsets, and in the eyes of peopl who carry the suns children, oh so many children, but they are dwindleing. Do not let them die.