sigh

Sometimes i wonder why am i such an introvert.

Wheel of wind and water

Im in a transitioning phase in my life where i don't know who i am so this prose is dedicated to myself


I could well be deliberately burying myself in a grave where i want to bring all thoughts
and emotions to a standstill, my eyes seem to rotate like the clock that watches the clock of time
flashing forwards and backwards,
and as i rest in the epitome of silence,
two or three more faces hover over the frosted glass of mirror and  other mirrors move around them like  marchers of the dead, but the dead can't see what the dead doesn't know.  This melancholic wind of morrow molests me under my skin, jading the one true feeling of thing  that lifts  me up from the  shadow  of the desire to fly! with  the fields of horses amongst purple seas, and cyan sands, perhaps even yellow trees

Into the Sea

Into the Sea

draft 1

The sea, the sea
If only i lived, under or below
bottom and down,
deep and hollow
and down, and down, and down i go
below the surface
i cannot breathe

But atleast i get to see the sea
in all its vastness
of deep green treasures
sinking in
and blinking
the waters momentarily blind my eyes
with fishes and sponges
all around the beds of shiny, spiny lobsters

Swimming in circles,
round and round and round, i go
as sun light comes tickle-ing
the skins of my eyes
and i would very much like to
swim ahead of all these fishing sharks
and to seek the mirth in silver light
and light i find upon a broken stone
oh my, how wonderful the sea can be

The sea, the sea
if only i lived, but under or somewhere
below
and bottom i go, the furthest to swim
to dream of land dwelling monsters that cannot swim
and think of naught but wonderful things

But where do i go?

And see, and see, i see the sea,
and seeing
what is not misleading
Drinking the poison that is
not thirst nor hunger
merely the longing to feel deeply

Oh my, how wonderful the sea can be

Most Things

Newly written song inspired by Nirvana's cover of Man who sold the world. 

It's about denial. it's kind of sarcastic

Most Things

Four walls will keep me safe because

i live in a big red blue house
the moonlight creeps upon the door
but i'm not ever sad

Hey, i miss the most

things like crawling by your side

hey, the most you'd miss 

things like crawling by my side
I miss you most

My golden watch
will tell you how to cheat the sun
when to step out
or when to have a bit of fun

Hey, i miss the most, things like crawling by your side
And hey, i'm sorry, the most you miss

things like crawling by my side

I miss you most

 

Sometimes

Sometimes
(New poem... still thinking of a better title)

Sometimes i speak to the universe,
and the universe sings back to me certain songs,

And the shadows of the leaves move faintly
as i walk across an empty land.
And this empty land seems weary
as it watches the invisible hands
that mould the glasses which mirror colors in day light,
to comfort a prancing child that screams in delight,
but the night does grow fiery
when it screams in fight and fear

Sometimes the world swallows the world,
like the tip of my tongue that swallows my words,
and the tick of the time turning tables on the fields
on the fields of pouring rain
with its seasons of numbing pain
and its cackling amusement
much to my own confusion