Friday, November 19, 2010
burnt out
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
This stayed with me...from the day i read it .. the first lines i want to learn by heart... anyway havnt posted in ages but its whatever
Frankenstien
No one sits beside the prof here in the dark,
But behind me they whisper and giggle and bark
Their disdain for what? The poetry, the black
And white, the naïveté of the monster, its lack
Of common sense, which they possess in spades?
Aren’t we, too, pieced together from open graves?
To the monster the child was like a flower,
Therefore she was a flower, and since a flower
Can float, so should the child. But she can’t, she dies.
To the students, some thirty years younger than I,
The monster is merely dumb, the girl a splash,
Like a punch line, a machine to produce laughs.
The prof packs his notes, useless, dismisses the kids,
A few linger with questions I can’t rid
Them of, ever-children drawn to the abyss.
A bus passes; I wave it on. What is
The night to do when its terrors shed their beauty?
I stumble home, past villagers hungry for duty.
- Tom Whalen
No one sits beside the prof here in the dark,
But behind me they whisper and giggle and bark
Their disdain for what? The poetry, the black
And white, the naïveté of the monster, its lack
Of common sense, which they possess in spades?
Aren’t we, too, pieced together from open graves?
To the monster the child was like a flower,
Therefore she was a flower, and since a flower
Can float, so should the child. But she can’t, she dies.
To the students, some thirty years younger than I,
The monster is merely dumb, the girl a splash,
Like a punch line, a machine to produce laughs.
The prof packs his notes, useless, dismisses the kids,
A few linger with questions I can’t rid
Them of, ever-children drawn to the abyss.
A bus passes; I wave it on. What is
The night to do when its terrors shed their beauty?
I stumble home, past villagers hungry for duty.
- Tom Whalen
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
Robert Frost (Always inspires me)
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
i felt this day
I wish I would fall in love
love the sweetest moon has left
As the rains leave the clouds
The blood leaves the heart.
The life leaves the dead.
Nothing I feel as I think of you
Bliss and sunshine have left
Me alone in a dark corner
Darkness strikes through my prison bars made of
Wrought together fibres of light.
I've retreated into myself
Found a small space as
Wounded animals often do ... To die
I wish .. I could have you
I wish time would stop
I wish things were different
But worst and best of all
I wish I didn't/never loved
You
love the sweetest moon has left
As the rains leave the clouds
The blood leaves the heart.
The life leaves the dead.
Nothing I feel as I think of you
Bliss and sunshine have left
Me alone in a dark corner
Darkness strikes through my prison bars made of
Wrought together fibres of light.
I've retreated into myself
Found a small space as
Wounded animals often do ... To die
I wish .. I could have you
I wish time would stop
I wish things were different
But worst and best of all
I wish I didn't/never loved
You
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
creative soup
OH btw those videos i posted are not in vain ... they are the ingredients .. to the creative soup of my minds eye ... stay tuned something major is coming lol .... i can feel it brewing
motivation/my-motivation
So i'm here again... seems like the writer inside me was lost by all means caught up in the never ending cycle we call "life". Point here that i'm making is sometimes we have to get up and dive literally into ourselves to find the little elusive thing called motivation especially if we are going through some tough times. So I went in this morning ...like one of those fearless english type explorers and found "the writer" and told him I need him and here I stand .... it was like some matrix type ish ... so I took the red pill ... and now my mind is unplugged ...
semester has started and boy do people up here make u feel insignificant ... - "friend" asks me what I do up here .. i say literature ... i ask him the same he says law .. looks at me and says "oh I thought u were up here actually doing work" in a condesending tone, laughs and says when am I switching majors ... needless to say I walked away ...
semester has started and boy do people up here make u feel insignificant ... - "friend" asks me what I do up here .. i say literature ... i ask him the same he says law .. looks at me and says "oh I thought u were up here actually doing work" in a condesending tone, laughs and says when am I switching majors ... needless to say I walked away ...
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
This one u can choose to play along with the previous video
This one... this one starts slow
Close your eyes and fall though space
Sound and mind with me
The sun has gone again
And twilight is our gold... a golden crown on my thoughts
We’ll walk hand in hand through the shadows and the prince of darkness will be trapped
This is the voice of those little things that are locked away
In your heart of hearts the trembling fingers as they undress and find the lips of your first kiss
Ur first breath mingled with another... We’ll float towards the sun and be wrapped in golden light
Forever...
This is the emptiness of feeling nothing...as the first cracks appears on your virgin heart
A single drop of blood appears on your seventh gate... runs jagged and mingles with clear tears never cried and burns your eyes... A burn as stinging as the first heart I’ve broken
A creature inside me who walks with a serpent staff and carries ajar in a tattered coat filled to the brim with beating hearts ripped violently from lovers never to be given back
This is the person inside the person inside u the silent beaten monk surrounded by a crumbling city.... which is your soul in this world of the soulless
A stain where fresh flowers wither within hours and ruby eyes stare menacingly in the shadows on the road to good intentions
We’ll go through life and leave a trail of hurt and broken voices like a of bloodcrumbs for death to follow...
Until we in our infinite wisdom come full circle and greet death from behind and he’ll turn and smile... and say I’ve been waiting for a while.
Close your eyes and fall though space
Sound and mind with me
The sun has gone again
And twilight is our gold... a golden crown on my thoughts
We’ll walk hand in hand through the shadows and the prince of darkness will be trapped
This is the voice of those little things that are locked away
In your heart of hearts the trembling fingers as they undress and find the lips of your first kiss
Ur first breath mingled with another... We’ll float towards the sun and be wrapped in golden light
Forever...
This is the emptiness of feeling nothing...as the first cracks appears on your virgin heart
A single drop of blood appears on your seventh gate... runs jagged and mingles with clear tears never cried and burns your eyes... A burn as stinging as the first heart I’ve broken
A creature inside me who walks with a serpent staff and carries ajar in a tattered coat filled to the brim with beating hearts ripped violently from lovers never to be given back
This is the person inside the person inside u the silent beaten monk surrounded by a crumbling city.... which is your soul in this world of the soulless
A stain where fresh flowers wither within hours and ruby eyes stare menacingly in the shadows on the road to good intentions
We’ll go through life and leave a trail of hurt and broken voices like a of bloodcrumbs for death to follow...
Until we in our infinite wisdom come full circle and greet death from behind and he’ll turn and smile... and say I’ve been waiting for a while.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Go to *Sleep
I won’t turn my thoughts down...
I refuse to go to sleep
It took me my entire life to wake up
It’s easier to go to sleep
People throw themselves too recklessly into the void
The void:
The place where, an asleep mind floats endlessly until called back to the now.
A place of broken dreams, have beens, had I tries, what ifs and could have done that’s
So I won’t go back to sleep my subconscious will over dose on insomniac lotion
To protect from thought burn-out
I’ll keep going like my minds a biological machine
Churning thoughts like a natural factory...No friend I won’t ever go to sleep
I’ll even dream awake if u believe it … I’ll live out my dreams. For dreams never end they just go right into the next sequence if u ever took the time to realize it
I’ll thank the dream-maker... Pray he never becomes a forsaker
Float with direction in the now… along my karmic thread
…
But I’m getting heavy
My lids are steady closing
Why go to sleep
It’s not he but me not me but us not us but the world not the world but human nature .
Go to sleep…
Never have to wake to this world... sit on the deck and never have to make that external push towards the light … there are no passwords there are no keys just me… and you
Go to sleep…
And Never dream for dreams are when we really are awake...Dreams are where colors are brightest ideas become flesh and blood no inception … concepts and thoughts walk by and say hi … the mind sliced into a million apple pies … dreams are an eternal sunshine in the spot less mind .
Go to sleep
To an ideal world... keeping it close to home white mixes with black into a golden generation … education is not necessary but a luxury … every one can hang out… their life’s laundry .
Go sleep
If u can’t compete with this world of mirrors and sharp edges … no personal space emotionally and physically... people get so close to one another literally and metaphorically to get through to each other … i wish life could be sorted with the shake of a hand…a world where smiles are not practiced, manufactured or processed but unfolded like the last flower in a frost covered meadow …
I go to sleep awake …
I refuse to go to sleep
It took me my entire life to wake up
It’s easier to go to sleep
People throw themselves too recklessly into the void
The void:
The place where, an asleep mind floats endlessly until called back to the now.
A place of broken dreams, have beens, had I tries, what ifs and could have done that’s
So I won’t go back to sleep my subconscious will over dose on insomniac lotion
To protect from thought burn-out
I’ll keep going like my minds a biological machine
Churning thoughts like a natural factory...No friend I won’t ever go to sleep
I’ll even dream awake if u believe it … I’ll live out my dreams. For dreams never end they just go right into the next sequence if u ever took the time to realize it
I’ll thank the dream-maker... Pray he never becomes a forsaker
Float with direction in the now… along my karmic thread
…
But I’m getting heavy
My lids are steady closing
Why go to sleep
It’s not he but me not me but us not us but the world not the world but human nature .
Go to sleep…
Never have to wake to this world... sit on the deck and never have to make that external push towards the light … there are no passwords there are no keys just me… and you
Go to sleep…
And Never dream for dreams are when we really are awake...Dreams are where colors are brightest ideas become flesh and blood no inception … concepts and thoughts walk by and say hi … the mind sliced into a million apple pies … dreams are an eternal sunshine in the spot less mind .
Go to sleep
To an ideal world... keeping it close to home white mixes with black into a golden generation … education is not necessary but a luxury … every one can hang out… their life’s laundry .
Go sleep
If u can’t compete with this world of mirrors and sharp edges … no personal space emotionally and physically... people get so close to one another literally and metaphorically to get through to each other … i wish life could be sorted with the shake of a hand…a world where smiles are not practiced, manufactured or processed but unfolded like the last flower in a frost covered meadow …
I go to sleep awake …
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The white page
This white page daunts me
I can make words dance on these white pages
I want to write but I have to find Ryan firstly
In my opinion I’m at university and have given up a piece of me
This white page reminds me of the color of my heart/love blood
I’m so passionate for nothing
So I can only make words dance from nothing.
These white pages remind me of my level of universal consciousness I’m a new born child
Floating in this empty cosmos
Empty… until my mind unfolds and gives it color
These white pages remind me of nothing
Are unforgiving, uninspiring, nothing comes to mind
But I’m.. not ..writing .. with my mind …so
So young poet don’t be daunted by the nothingness
Of a blank white page.
For From white all colors are born
And from color are our souls torn
I can make words dance on these white pages
I want to write but I have to find Ryan firstly
In my opinion I’m at university and have given up a piece of me
This white page reminds me of the color of my heart/love blood
I’m so passionate for nothing
So I can only make words dance from nothing.
These white pages remind me of my level of universal consciousness I’m a new born child
Floating in this empty cosmos
Empty… until my mind unfolds and gives it color
These white pages remind me of nothing
Are unforgiving, uninspiring, nothing comes to mind
But I’m.. not ..writing .. with my mind …so
So young poet don’t be daunted by the nothingness
Of a blank white page.
For From white all colors are born
And from color are our souls torn
Mirrors Edge
I wipe the mist away from the faded mirror roughly .. i'm running trying to find my way ..but there is nothing i can say to find u ... to me pain is just another plain ... for the emotional junki ...
as I look at the reflection of ryan he walks away to a better world a newer me a me I wish I could be
he turns and I see the fire in his eyes .. a fire I kno is inside me .. he gestures .. I lean over the blood drenched sink and stone cold razor
I touch the ryan in the mirror and leave a blood smeared imprint on his life .. then my hand slips in two lives are actually one
as I look back at that guy in the mirror I wonder who is the real me .. his image is covered by tiny drops of water stained amber red and streaming .. when he dies will I ?
his eyes are dark and deep but lifeless his pupils are tiny as if he is staring directly into a bright life .. he is ..
he is his fears they criple him they make me bleed... tiny cracks appear in the two sided mirror the glass breaks ...
i'm alone in a gloomy dark bathroom both ryans are bleeding life out.. red passionate life onto the floor .. a voice asks for me ..whispers..moans ...
the hairs stand on end as he passes from this life to the next ... and smiles ...
as I look at the reflection of ryan he walks away to a better world a newer me a me I wish I could be
he turns and I see the fire in his eyes .. a fire I kno is inside me .. he gestures .. I lean over the blood drenched sink and stone cold razor
I touch the ryan in the mirror and leave a blood smeared imprint on his life .. then my hand slips in two lives are actually one
as I look back at that guy in the mirror I wonder who is the real me .. his image is covered by tiny drops of water stained amber red and streaming .. when he dies will I ?
his eyes are dark and deep but lifeless his pupils are tiny as if he is staring directly into a bright life .. he is ..
he is his fears they criple him they make me bleed... tiny cracks appear in the two sided mirror the glass breaks ...
i'm alone in a gloomy dark bathroom both ryans are bleeding life out.. red passionate life onto the floor .. a voice asks for me ..whispers..moans ...
the hairs stand on end as he passes from this life to the next ... and smiles ...
QUE THE INDEPT THINKER
I'm in that place again friend ... its just so windless ... I read somewhere that white coloured aura means an absence of aura i'm aura less .. i've tired unsuccesfully to fill my lifes sails with wind .... and I constantly feel like this has been an endless circle .. to be honest I dont remember exactly when I began to feel this way ...if indeed i'm feeling ... now most peopel who put there thoughts into ink are at a certain point in there lives, to write a degree of security is needed ... I feel as though I write from pure instinct ... is it natural talent ... why do I find it so hard to believe in me ..this is the point of security all writers have reached they believe... i'm angry all the time because I cant find what i've been looking for no friends can help ... what am I missing I feel as though a mental dam has been placed on the part of my brain that takes the ideas and acts upon them ... i'm overflowing with ideas its driving me crazy ..but i just cant get them out and about walking, sparking others ... i'm auraless (# 01 )
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