The Road Not Taken

My thoughts, somehow have done nothing but revolve around you...
now and again, past the mundane you seep through
It need not forcefully creep into any other thought as it has -
already branded each separate one, claiming it.
A strange immortality of your presence resides with in me and i know not why...
I sit here allowing it to flow in torrents of misunderstood love
Feverishly gnawing and scratching at my tools of expression
why have i allowed my mind to wander past its voluntary cage?
it has taken with it my imagination and heart which -
bears with it all that i am... or rather bore what i was...
the site of my own insolence on the walls i have written upon,
keep me what i am, unable to comprehend the use of my legs
as if i had given up my freedom, left to sit and dwell...
on all the reasons why, uncertainty taints me solitarily.

I miss you

Like my hearts forgotten beat,
As the sun ceases to glare
Due to being blinded by the moon

I miss you

Solitarily standing while people stop and stare,
To remind me of my nostalgic memory

When again will I be able to stand,
And my feet know the comfort of freedom?
Ceasing to stagger towards the gathering dew

And when my eyes realize to open,
Absorb the world for the first time,
I will feel the love that I have sought after for centuries

But where are you?

You, the one that I have seen only in the fog of my past
You, the only one that has snatched my self away
You, the one that has made me feel nostalgic -
For the events that will take place tomorrow

I love you.

Hands Of A Star

There were two of them beneath the hands of a star
Born on separate days and separate years
But, whose dates of birth were not so far
Hence they shared similar reasons for tears…

The elder, moved with a does gait
And believed that dance smoothed through her veins
While the sounds of jazz was her fate
She flowed along side the leaves that fluttered about
As the playful wind pushed her to her limits
Forcing her self further and further out –
Towards the uplifting clouds above the dire land

The crowd glares
Watching her move; they shared in her emotion
Moving across the stage with twists and turns
Seemingly impossible movements were made easy
A final pirouette draws all the love out -
And made to lay upon the floor in awe…

The younger, more rebellious of the two –
Had lungs filled with a force ineffable
She sang songs before throngs of isolated attention
But never sang to those who gathered –
Rather, her voice, independently traveled per individual
Surfing upon the waves of air, her voice made known

Melting the ice ridden hearts of the spiteful
With immersion unyielding, silence grows
Notes and tones vocalized from the depths of her soul –
Pushed outward and toward the auditorium ceiling
Then echoed into the hearts of those who love her
And, changing those who do not know her
Creating an unfathomable ambiance of comfort

They both lived with in the same hallowed walls of passion
Under the watchful eyes of the two that loved them most
With in a home filled to the brim with formations of art.
But thier reasons for the lake of sorrow to flow is not theirs alone
It is not even their property…
Cheeks stained by true tears belongs to a random obscurity
That once resided beneath similar clouds of emotion
The same one that holds this pen; that flows with nostalgia
It is he, who writes because of them…
No longer does the fervor of expression satisfy him
It is their words that feed his insatiable hunger to write
And – as siblings connected deeper then blood
Their performance is fueled, not just with vehimence -
It is followed by the search of approval by said obscurity
Who, with pure pride, will always be in approbation of the two

Inspired by...


"Why are you loving a dead end?", is what she said. Her words helf both a lack of and complete eloquence about the cause and effect of both thier actions.

He stopped writing and looked up at the missing emotions in the room. The noise of people chatting, babies crying, and friends laughing slowly lifted up and exitted the coffee shop. Now, they were both alone in a room full of dreams.

"Well?" She said as she threw a brick at the wall of silence.
"Well what? what kind of question is that? what are you asking me?" He spat out random words, hoping she wouldnt notice the sweat marks on his back. He needed time, more time.

The words acted as a vacuum of time; his time. It foreced him to move, he had to act. But he couldnt, after years of allowing the world to keep spinning with out him; he's forgotten how to spin along.

"One of us is still going to school, holding some type of job and not biting the hand that feeds."

As silent volcano's sleep eternal until its is sadly disturbe; life is beautiful. He disturbed nature could no longer be contained with in the grasp of love. She tried, holding tight but the tighter she held, it all began to slip in torrents through her fingers. The noise of the coffee shop decided to enter. Slowly, the doors opened and the volume increased. Only laughter was heard over the peak of sound and it hurt his ears. He had to stand, and then smoke.

The room kept laughing. It felt as if it was laughing at him. The amber lights flickered along side the sound as it bounced of the green chairs.

Out side, he was burning his life away, one long drag after the other.

"Why?" he heard horridly over his shoulder. "Why couldnt you just do something. Life at times makes you take the road less travelled." He dropped his pleasure, still burning with anxiety.

"Melissa! i cant do that. Im an artist! i cant be seen at that minimum wage job! and school? its just stopping me from expanding as an artist. You're not loving a deadend, someday i'll get big and i'll buy you anything and everything!"

It was too late. Th sun had fallen beneath the darkening clouds and it began to rain. The once glowing central square was flooded with a deluge of mixed love and anger.

"Rain drops are falling on my head." He said...

She looked up at his five foot eleven stature and then disappeared into the rain as rain drops kept falling on his head.

As he left the yellow doors to stand before the bright sun, his color began to fade. The environment itself seemed to mock his mix emotions with a plethora of colors while he is lost with in his somber looks. A black and white creature walked about the chromatic and textured Market Place.
Step after step, he still had not raised his head. In the hopes that no one would see his face, he concentrated severely upon the bumps on the sidewalk. It resembles much of his emotion; the sidewalk had cracks and spaces, bumps and bruises and it was rough. He tried not to remember what had happened before, as it was not worth his nostalgia.
Walking to Starbucks from memory, he knew he was closer because he could hear the jovial echoes of coffee cups, cigarettes and ashtrays. Making his way to the back entrance that would be the smokers area, he entered the opaque doors. He looked up expecting to see a familiar face, a stranger’s face or any face at all. There was no one.
He dropped his bag and the room spun around him as he tried to gain composure. He looked once, left, right then up and down. There was no one to be found. Hurriedly, he ran across the room towards the main entrance and smashed through the doors. There were no cars in the parking lot, no one having their hair done next door, an empty Subway: Eat Fresh, no one at all.
Digging into his pockets for salvation, He had to calm himself down. Snapping his Zippo up and open he lit one of his Marlboro 27’s… He jolted to the left over the hedges and into the main road. He closed his eyes and stood there at the center waiting for something, anything to happen. He took another drag, inhaled, exhaled, and opened his eyes.

to be continued

The cat was mostly black; except for its nose, chest and feet. He tried desperately to make the cat love him, but all it did was sit there silently, spitefully staring back at him. Maybe it was because he was dangle a cheap toy by its face.
"Do we need to talk about our relationship?" A question shot from across the room yanked his attention towards the window; and there she stood. She was getting ready for work; a hair dryer, straightener, hair gel and perfume spread across the table. Her scent, it echoed around in his lungs and it drew him like fire to the flies.
Realizing he had to respond, he looked at her. Unable to instantly realize the gravity, he tried to steal away more time to think. "What do you mean?" He said hoping she had not noticed his weakness towards her. He sat there upon the wooden floor feeling the vibrations from a beating heart. He couldnt fathom whether or not it was his, hers or the cats.
"Well, i'll be leaving soon and i'll be gone for a long while." She said as she began to put down her hair products and pick up her scent. She looked back at him with an almost somber smile as if she knew something was wrong. But she continued and said, "Also, im not fighitng any of the feelings. Im just going with the flow of things. And i love you... but..." Why did not it end as beautifullky as it could have, did there have to be a "but"? Words from unknown sections of his mind came in torrents towards his shut mouth. His love and respect for her held more strength then cheap words of immaturity. He held silence.
"If there were to be someone else or if something happened, it'll be alright. Just tell me so that i wouldnt be waiting in vain."
The fear of unrequited love was shattered. He now knew, directly from her that he was not the only one feeling weak because of the other. He got up, smiled at her with the sun behind his breath and said, "I also have been going with the flow, not fighting the feelings you make me feel. In all honestly, i don't think i will find anyone quite like you." He had lived in this little town for only about three years. He solitarily walked the blind streets lost with in his own day dreams. He came from work to study at home, then to sleep. After, he woke early in the mornings to go to class then soon after, toil at work. He lived a monotonous and rigorously redundant life. But when he bumped into her infront of the little ice cream shop at the center of the square, he knew that redundancy would no longer stay by his side.
"I love you." He said, standing tall and confident infront of her as she still stood there half naked and unprepared for work. He starred at her movements through the mirror and she did the same to him. She smiled and uttered similar words coupled with a statement that seared its mark on mind. "Where ever i go, it will be for a while but i know that i will not let anyone touch me."
The cliche kiss of lovers was shared as they stood before the mirror that captured every body movement and gesture. Behind them was the cat, who once sat silent and vexed, is now standing upon the bed watching. The kisses stop as thier bodies were still intertwined and he said, "That cat still hates me."

Random

sitting here with a drink in my hand i write this
i'm not sure where this will all take me
writing this, random words floating through my head
i walk through all the six rooms and yours i stop
i take a photo of you and someone in my hand
and i smile, to remember how happy you are
that smile that i can never remove from sight
causese me to write, these random pieces of reality
onto this, pixelated sheet of paper
along side cheap rhymes and metaphors about -
a love i hide with in my hearts closet
awaiting the time of your return into this home
whos doors have been opened before i knew you
by those who have come and gone and away
their imprints embeded with in the floors
i scrub and toil but to no avail
i can not compete with the past but im not supposed to
i read through your past thoughts and feelings
tackeling this projects is head on your past
as i try to stand before as the victor -
now i step back and quietly sip my drink
as the basic realization was mine and not thiers
i am here now, making things happen
im trying, which is much more then them
im still waiting, being more patient then the photos
determined to finish the project, i scub the floors again
not with the same vigor and fervor
i do enough as there is no need to remove the stains
upon the floor that many have tred
lay wisdom and happiness, in a way, memories
left there to be remembered and better yet, learned from
hence i cease this senseless writing wasting my time
its time to act, put in the effort and wait once more.

"A Letter To You"

What's another night, sitting here, starring at a pixelated world?
Each cities glory at my finger tips behind these cheap colored lights
Should'nt enthusiasms love grasp, take me and force me to unfold?
I shudder as the shadows of the lit room drip drip drip into bites
Insanity was once my company; that is until sanity came spearing through me
Random photos flicker before my face, shaking me to wistfulness
Sitting frozen while instantly feeling the spear of vulnerability
Moterized lights flash in sequence: red green red green - colorless
Can i truly say that this momentary prenostalgic state of mind -
- Is my temporary weakness in remembrance of what grasps my emotion?
Breathing my life away seems to hold me insane i find
As the breeze warms at the end of the burn there is an overcompensation -
An unwilling stagger towards the reality that I am still sitting here
The fan rattles with in its case shocking me to different attention
The tears begin to dry, the uneasy sound dies and i see clear
My laps in instabilty that caused this distracting debility is temporary
As my courage floods back reminding me that i will cover you.
Insight knocks on my door and i can be with you while stationary
Separated upon the world that once shared the same true - atom
The pixelated world is still beneath my battered hands
I enter in my emotions and send them away past separate skies
Time; that once was stored with in the glass; i now hold the sand -
Forcing the clouds to halt thier weaps and cries
And, now i wait again for the cheap flickering lights to shine
Soon, a window with in the pixels with pop-up and state:
"You've Got Mail."

"Pieces Of Paper"

It was another cold day in Boston and Nick was tired. He had worked close twenty hours, stopping only to use the toilet. But, he knew that it was all worth it. Because at the end of his long, arduous and deadly working day, he would spend it with Sarah. He worked because of her, not because she deserved anything but simply because she was his reason. That to him, was all that he needed feel.

He stopped for a drink, he seemed to have an insatiable need for water. Maybe it was because he was tired, and still hadn't slept properly. He tried, numerous times, to allow himself to wander the fantasy of his mind. But everytime he would walk next to memories worth nostalgia, a bump would knock him back into reality.

As he sat, he instantly felt uncomfortable. Today seemed fairly busy as people moved about, searched for an open seat, waved thier hands in the air, waded their bags through the narrow spaces. All he wanted was a drink, then he could continue on his way towards the one who holds his heart; Sarah.

Night had fallen and there was nothing left with in Nicks mind except that he was thirsty. He sat solitarily, lost with in the night of his mind. Finally, a large blonde woman passed by; she was pushing a small cart of beverages. As Nick watched her in anticipation; she asked everyone else if they wanted something to drink. "When is she comming here?" he thought, as the lights in the area began to dim. The lost light reminded him of his fatiguing body, his eyes grew weary and lonesome. He then remembered the once glorious touch of a soft pillow and sheets warmed by a body next to his. As his mind finally began to float along side the sand that made his eyes shut; the large blonde woman inturputed by asking, "Something to drink sir?"

It's only been a half hour since his temporary vacation from the walls of the salt mine; his anticipation grew. He thought, "Another half hour, then a taxi ride of another, and i'll be home." His leg began to shake by the knees as his excitment had to be released. He looked around with in the darkness, and followed the shadows of the night. Many were similarly asleep, others held somber faces, and the rest eminated a feeling of hope because soon, they too would be with in the arms of both thier warm beds, and the bodies that made it warm.

The night began to lift, while a voice of the intercom awoke. It said, "five more minutes." Sleep gathered its dust and quickly hid with in the remnants of the darkness. The yellow light seemed to glow harder chasing the trail of dust to the depths of the seats. The live intercom made its last statement before it was put back to sleep. It said, "Welcome home." A sigh of releif followed by a thought, "Not just yet."

"Taxi!" Nick called out with his failing body; he needed to rest. The languor of his mind made his head heavy. He found his taxi, and automatically laid his head to rest. With his eyes closed and his mind about to leave the docks of reality, he handed the taxi driver a piece of paper. The driver nodded and drove off.

A once more interupted half slumber; Nick was vexed. He peered outside the window and the neon lights echoed through his eyes. It felt as if needles gently massaged his sleep deprived imagination. Strange signs he could not recognize with or without his brain activity. The taxi had stopped before a large building and the driver demanded his payment. Nick paid more then he was required to; he paid with more valuable currency.

Nick stepped out and took a deep breath of the thick city air; the pollution was staggering. Looking around, the echo of past neon lights was still wiggling with in his eyes. He closed them for a moment, took another polluted air breath and began his final steps towards the door.

He entered a large welcoming hall, with people still buzzing about despite the late hour of 2am. A short man who wore what appeared to be a concierge's uniform came up to him. The man asked Nick who was he visiting, but Nick couldn't understand. He tried his best to somehow jump start the hamster to turn the wheel, but his mind would not function. So he smiled in reply, and handed the concierge a piece of paper with a name. The concierge understood and directed him towards the elevator; and with his hands, told Nick which floor to get off; the tenth floor.

Walking towards the elevator, a jolt of energy shot through his feet, into his heart and lightened his mind. Excited, he quickly entered the mirrored doors of the elevator and insistently pressed the botton for the tenth floor. He saw his reflection on the doors; it was haggared. His once leapoards gait was lost to a now gaunt silverbacks. The doors opened. It was bright as he entered the hallway, temporarily blinded he pulled out another piece of paper and read it. It had the number 134 on it. Two doors down on the right after the side table with a vase of yellow tulips at the center. Knock Knock Knock...

The door opened, and Nicks knees began to wither. He wasn't sure of what was going on; was it because he was tired or because he was ecstatic. Smiles lit up the already shinning hallway that screamed the color white. Words then made its way out to shatter the silence. "Hello Sarah." He said as he could not fight the smile that broke his somber look. "Nick! What are you doing here in China?"

The End

"Flashes of a Dream"

And - a wild fervor shapens in and through my back. I felt the air breeze across the inside of my body. Is today another day?
Last night happened in flashes; flashes i care not to remember. Pins and needles spike through my eyes after viewing the events.
I could'nt believe that temptation was so strong. And, desire along side it. I tried to laugh and regain once lost composure... It never came...
It came up, or rather, it tried. Words vomitting out, i could'nt hold on. But there was nothing but the feeling of a desert.
I could not even devise a virtuous version of the truth. Nothing came to my expected pain except a nonenthusiastic cough. and another. cough...
i found the gash of which it entered. It, the creature, resembled an imp... small, bright red, and jagged.
I was no longer who i though i was or who i was to become. i was strangely tainted with the touch of uncertainty...
And - a wild fervor slips beneath my feet and allows me to fall. There i still am, quickly wading through the scentless air, grazing my self upon the soft clouds. I fall with in the brightness of the night.
Hence i am now not only uncertain and plagued by over analyzation, i also am blinded to the beauties of the darkness - left to wait.

“The Wedding Cake Story”

“The amber light of the lamp above isn’t as strong as it used to be. I wonder what happened to it…“ I said to my self as I looked up. I had wondered for a long while on the welfare of this place. I mean, it had to have made some money. Why was it beginning to fall apart?
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
I looked up; it was a young woman, carrying what appeared to be a laptop case. She dressed professional, she had her hair tied back, which exposed her hairline, and she smelled of cigarettes and stress.
“No.” I had said abruptly removing my attention.
“Thanks… um… could I ask you something?”
Why do people always say that? Its strange how, just out of curiosity, we are driven to ask questions. But asking a question of permission to ask a question? What have we come to? I shook my head.
“Sure why not.” I said.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a light would you?”
“Yea, sure.”
Digging into my pocket I found my Zippo lighter. It was silver all around and had curves on its edges as opposed to corners. It was some special model made to commemorate some company holiday. My best friend gave this to me.
“Here you go.” I snapped it open and lit it
“Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
She turned and walked away, dragging the chair she had taken from my table. I watched her until she had decided to sit across the coffee shop underneath the blare of the sun. It was a good idea.

Until my phone rang, I had not heard anything except for the small conversation with that woman and the voices in my head.
“ Hello?”
“Theo! Where are you?”
“Jeremy? I’m just getting some coffee. Why?”
“Gabe’s show is about to begin, what are you still doing there?
How did I forget? My best friends show is about to begin and I still had to beat the four o’clock traffic. His show is in an hour; I’ll make it. Jolting out of my seat and making a mad dash towards the parking lot, I had not noticed the fact that I had bumped into a sea of faces. It’s probably a good thing that I did not recognize any of them, except for that one woman who asked for a light…

When I was younger, I learned never to be late. The school disciplinarian would give anyone who was late an hour of detention. The only thing that would deter him, from graciously offering an hour of standing beneath the wrath of the sun at the center of a dried out soccer field, would be a written and signed excuse from our parents. Let’s just say that I couldn’t keep making up reasons as to why I was late so that my mother would write me a letter.

“Damn this traffic. This is what I get for being late.” I said to my self out loud in the car. I honked the horn.
“Come on! Lets go, I’ve got to make it to a show.” I just rhymed. I honked the horn again.
It began to rain. It was such a beautiful and sunny day; no one expected it to be poisoned by darkening clouds floating in from the pacific carrying with it a heavy load of rain. It rained hard. Traffic got worse and so did tempers.

“Thank god there’s some movement!” a sigh of relief.

A car, filled with what looked like teenagers, screamed past me. They were on the safety lane. I waited for the cops to come waving a ticket and cuffs but they never came.
“A pastry shop to the left.” I thought to my self “Maybe I should pick up a congratulations cake for my friends. No, wait… that wont work. They only sell wedding cakes… they look good.”
Maybe I could do the same thing, there aren’t any cops, and those kids seemed to just fly by. I’ve got to get to that show. But what I didn’t realize was that, I was not the only one with that same idea. I pulled out of my lane and made my way to the safety lane. It was empty. I peeled out trying to zoom passed through in the hopes that no one would pay much attention and then bam.

“A Photo Story”

“Where are you going?” He said with a terribly scrounged up face.

The truth is that they were leaving. They had to. Where they were going to go, even he didn’t know. But they got up, and they’re leaving. On This warm and strange day, the crows began to circle over a parliament of rooks on a field.
“Do we have to go?” She said as she bounced up and down in his arms

She had no choice but to trust him. Who else could she trust? She was still young, too young to understand what was going on. The day got stranger as the day became more humid entering the early afternoon. But the crows were still there, about the parliament that had one rook in the center of it. He seemed to be the only one speaking

“We have to go, we have to go now!” He said trying his best not to drop his cigarette.

Did he know where he was going? He seemed to just get up in a hurry. I might know where he could go. But I don’t. The single rook at the center ceased to speak. The crows began to sink lower.

Now, who thus proposes we do something about it?” were the last words of that lone rook; before he was mangled by his own kin.

The crows landed one by one and the largest one, who seemed to carry more then it could on his mind said, “And now your story has ended.”

“Baby, Baby, Baby”

“Mama, Mama…Mama?” The other said, reaching out towards the sky

The room was drenched in a baby blue shade with a hint of perspiration. It was hot. The sun had fallen beneath the tower of our neighborhood, there wasn’t any breeze.

“I’m tired of this no pleasure none sense!” Ben said

His voice quickly overlapped by the coming train of Thursday performers. Tonight was the night of the block party. Aretha was looking for some “R-E-S-P-E-C-T”, telling everyone that, “What you want, baby I got it, what you need you know I got it!” And we all knew she got “it” because she was most surely a “Natural Woman”

“Lets go over to the window so that we can taste each other under the starry night.” Martha said.

They moved with the flow of physical love, it looked like they floated off to the balcony. Side by side they waded though thin air, not making a sound as the twins have stopped their chants of “Mama, Mama.”

There was a sea of unknown personalities swimming beneath their feet. Some waved, others nodded as they threw their hands up in the air. The Righteous Brothers took over the creaking stage and with one whim, silence the crowd. All they had to say was, “You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…” Cheers float into nothingness.

“I think we’ve lost that loving feeling Ben.” Martha said as she let her self fall in an open embrace.

“…”That loving feeling, oh that loving feeling. And its gone, gone, gone

“Katrina: P.O. Box. New Orleans”


Why does patience take so long?

Since when did the warmth of the world
Fade and be dreary?

Why won’t anyone else stay, laugh and drink with me?

How has this journey only become mine?

If all our lives are so intertwined…

“What I am”

Smooth, silver and metallic all over –
A symbol, a pendant, a meaning
I am something to her…
I may not know what is false or true
But I know my self
I remember my self once surrounded
By family and friends abound
Enjoying the silent sound
Until broken from my haven
Chipped and hacked at
Instantly removed from where I sat
The place where I had lived for years
Taking comfort in the silence
To being deafened by the noise.
After all my tears and screaming
Something had changed
I was a piece of gaudy nothing
Now, I am a glittering something
Whetting the insatiable appetite
Of who holds me tight
And at the end of this night
A fright shakes me into a stupor
And I find my self more – alone
I dream and I dreamt once
Of the taste of the air
Feeling your heart next to mine
But all I see s this dark wooden box
Thinking of the memories of you
Knowing, I wanted to see things through
There’s nothing left that I smell or taste
But feel; I feel that I have been forgotten
As I sit here in this darken wooden box
Sitting next to your socks
Nothing but a past memory I am to you
Even if I wanted to see things through

Pete’s Hill

What once was lost is now found
Beneath the starry night abound
Perched upon Peter’s hill
Embraced by sanctities thrill
Only moon light shining the way
Countless things we could say
Not feeling the stresses of living
Except the funny feeling of laughing
Thinking – of the ridiculously obvious
While’st pondering the curious
Of months past making seven
Shattered by hours spent more then eleven
From seconds to minutes, hours to days
My minds has stopped, and here is stays
In this almost muggy atmosphere
With annoyances fluttering we can hear
None of it bothers, as I am content
Although I still feel as if I am bent
Screwed over, shattered and smashed
Heart, mind and soul overwhelmed and tired
Trying to gather and regain composure
Not thinking of the immediate future
As all it is, is the present converted
A time in which was very much hated
Now is what I covet and hope to keep
Even at the risk of the valued sleep
In this time of darkness and constellations
I hear only our conversations.

“The Amber Necklace”

Part One:
Dare I seek out the insanity of solitude?
Isolation from communication between this world –
- That seems to forget the flow of life it breeds.
With light, bright clouds fluttering about in the sky,
First combining, dancing and then separating
Insanity is what I see with in nature its self
There are trees that bleed liquid amber from its roots
Slowly flowing out, then stopping and changing
Impurities procrastinate inward, making a deep scar
I remember my self, once completely surrounded –
By family and friends sharing everything and nothing
We would bask in the endless waves of silence
Until once, I was broken into and removed from my haven
Chipped and hacked at, I was completely taken –
- Far and away from the sanity of company
Instantly removed from where I used to sit
The place where I had grown and lived for years.
Somewhere I could take comfort in the silence
And now, am deafened by the cruel noise
After my swollen tears, I began to scream
“Return me to the company of my silence!”
I was not returned but silence did come to me
There was something different, I changed.
I was once a piece of gaudy nothing
Unable to comprehend the insatiable hunger –
for wrath by this petrified worlds imagination.
Now I see my self as a glittering piece of something
Yet again, solitarily hanging amongst a sea of faces
Until that one summer day; It was a Friday
I remember not the entire day but the winds
The winds that blew ice on this midsummer night
A dance between distant souls and one –
- Of enormous size with a blinding solitary glow
I remember not that day, or night, but the connection.
A link of serene separation of these distant bodies
And so, I was removed once more…

Part Two:
Breathing makes things harder at night
As I try to whisper the comfort that doesn’t come.
Another day, a Wednesday, where I was blind to detail
I was united with another, solitary being
Smooth silver and metallic all over, My reflection I could see
I had changed before my own eyes
Never before was I more then able to taste life
I could feel a strong beat right next to mine
A strange unification of two separate isolations
I, now, am a symbol, a meaning; a pendant
I may not know the intricacy of fallacy or truth –
But I know, to a degree of certainty, my self
Hence, I, may not mean anything to you
But I mean something to her, and only her.
I taste the air as I float along side her
I could smell the excitement of her mind
I see her tears because I feel the same fears
And I could dream! As I dreamt once.
Of flashes of past company I no longer seek
As this solitude has made my soul meek
Complimentary is the seclusion between she and I
I, an impure piece of solid amber –
With this unnatural dark dispersion –
- that i thought was an unwanted damage with in my heart
Then, dare I say, that I seek, now, the insanity of reality?
Purposely disconnect myself from the chaos
Taking comfort, now, in the silence of noise –
As it's echoes shake my inner self
And at the end of this night there will be a fright
That knocks me down and forces me into a stupor
but I find my self, alone, more and more alone
Even if I know that you will not drop me
Despite the heavy weight you carry
The air wears thin, it’s too much to bear

Part Three:
The full collapse of company looms over
And the sun set black traps me here
Along and away I am from the similar solitude
That, my silver and I hold close together
I must sit and wait, once more be patient
But not with family or any other familiar company
Lost with in this dark room made to contemplate.
Pondering upon the basic meaning of patience and forever
But why must patience take so long?
and how long is forever?
If forever means the time of travel of patience –
- Must I wait forever, lost in the hustle of solitude?
When forever comes today, when does tomorrow come?
I believe that it may never, as it is forgotten
There is nothing left that I taste or feel
Not even the power of fearing that I could be forgotten
Sitting here in the dim lights of a closed box
I remember all the memories of you… just you…
Flashes of nostalgia interrupt my reveries
As all of them seem to be worth remembering
Especially knowing one great thing
That I will see this through and through
Patiently waiting during unending days of solitude

Pre-nostalgia

It was a great night with sights and sounds of power
I was going to show you the way i was going to go
With out running or hiding, i shared with you infinity
and you showed me, much more than this dark city
Despite the winds that blow the chill into my bones
Forgetting the over all weather all togher!
i thought i heard your voice through the silence
offering your hand out in benevolence
"where are we going?"
And there you were - lying on white sands
with calm blue waters moving over you like hands
soft and gentle, i watch you lay there under the sun
as eyes open, there is no surprise but a smile
natural disbelief with random thoughts of guile
"Come over here."
A welcome with arms wide open, enticing me in
An embrance of unity, pressing two bodies - together
As separation draws near, i can not wait again i fear
another few months before it was to happen once more
the full complete feeling of being able to soar
across palm trees, white sands and blue wates
over adjacent rocky islets off the coast
Some of them larger, greater then most
"We're going over there."
Crashing into a pile of pale melting snow
I have not lost where to go but i have lost sanity
As I, today, unable to dwell on the sands of yesterday
but miss the events of tomorrow causing me sorrow
Pleading that the future i could some how borrow.
"Where am i going?"

--- Today is the 8th of the eleventh month.
While yesterday marked the halfway point.
Its been three months so far and still going.
there isnt much that has changed since then.
Except the thoughts have become more visceral.
As breathing makes living harder at night,
I try to whisper the comfort that is no where.
The windowsill reflects the dried sheets,
and the strange behavior of the dancing light.
I'd imagine the posibilites that lay with in,
and between white sands and blue waters.
towards its destination...
Beneath the exploding flashes of butterflies,
there is nothing left worthy of nostalgia.
the creation of nothing is in my memory,
As i am left to the rapture of solitude. ---

Song 2

Passing over the empty park
Watching the falling of the autumn leaves
Along side the drop of the sun into dark
Rolling down my sleeve thinking…
That it’s only the start of September
And it’s going to be a while until we’re together
You picture is tattooed in memory
Pulled up each time it gets dreary…
And a temporary smile comes upon me…

Four more months and its only just begun
September Summer is floating away
October leaves don’t even want to stay
November stretch onto December…
Then I remember… not yet…not yet…
So close and so far, just like the stars…

At the end is when I will be with her
Even if it’s only for a week…
Waiting for her smile to make me weak
Her simple touch to give me goose bumps
Her kiss… that held more to it then a hello
It made me want her never to let go…
I don’t know how I affect her or not
But I feel that she and I are so caught
That these four months won’t be so long…

Four more months and its only just begun
September Summer is floating away
October leaves don’t even want to stay
November stretch onto December…
Then I remember… not yet…not yet…
So close and so far, just like the stars…

Four more months and its only just begun
September Summer is floating away
October leaves don’t even want to stay
November stretch onto December…
Then I remember… that I love her…
So close and so far… just like the stars…