Category Archives: Book

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The Time Keeper – 05

Honestly I’ve gone with the winds and where their caresses did take me, we should focus more on how he felt in his shifts

I made the most progress in the first days by mistake,
Chasing moonlight I stayed up too late and lost my way,
In all the corners of the dark I had boisterously played
Strayed so far from what I knew, I had to start life anew
So far down I had traveled now – where to begin to climb
Hand over hand. Long enough had passed
and there it was, the risen sun

He said he had no interest in coin, but It’s hard to take a man’s word for something when everything he desires puts him in line with the convenience of it. Or is that just it; The convenience of it takes our focus off of the real McCoy. What do you mean? Well what use is a good taste without the time to relish it?

The time to enjoy is everything. The time to realize everything else is secondary. The time is all that mattered. And with that the case is left open faced. Go ahead look it straight in the heart and see, that we’ve got just as much a chance as bumping into him on a street corner in the desert. We won’t be going to any deserts. We might miss him then. We will anyways. Who are you? I’m tired is all. It’s the way you say it. You don’t have to be so blunt and broken.

Break it up, be open, the reality is we’ve got the time, and he only has a sliver of it.

How much does anyone really need ? Dig into me. Find what you need.

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VI IV – The Waiting

2 November 2014

Drawing by VI
Writing by IV

I’d been looking out windows for ages now.
Seeing all the busy lives flying by, meaning
nothing to my nerves, my heart could care
less about beating for all that noise.

What am I even looking for? He laughed,
“Acting like I don’t remember who.” I know
precisely each value of the shades of her lips.
I can see them with eyes shut, as if they were
pressed to mine in one of those ‘You’re just
the taste I like’ kisses. With sensuous fingers
creating art upon me as her nails nibble my
back, she’d sigh one of those, “Well aren’t
you just a wise king”

She illuminated the labyrinth of my mind in
such a way I could find her on the other side
without making it too simplistic. Stepping
outside, a soft wind grazed his face. He
stared into it as if he could see her. With eyes
that could use a bite to eat, he pursed his lips
to let out the name Leanna into the breeze.
Maybe she’ll hear that. I know she hears me.

I bet you think I’m thinking about you.
I mean I am, but not like he thinks.
At least he has a good face, he’d lose himself
if he couldn’t enjoy looking at that face of his.

He has that look though. His eyes hold me
like if I left, he’d be without the Sun. She took
several deep breaths, “He makes you feel like
the Sun! Do you know what it’s like to be as
monumental as the Sun?” “I am the fucking
Sun,” she spoke into the mirror. That’s the
intensity that he can’t consume enough of.
I just keep picturing two stars colliding in
such a hot blaze of destruction.

All that remained after the intense pressure
of the night were two diamonds.
Him and me. I’m a little more refined.
His roughness was the thing I liked though.
It’s an art for a diamond to cut a diamond after all.

The Waiting. A Special art collaboration project. If you find this intriguing… Be sure to follow the story as it unfolds …

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Diadem’s Folly

I search and search through endless streams,
for some contemplation that satisfies, as your touch,
even the thought of drinking from your cup;
The only thing I’ve found is drinking from my own.

“Look boy,” spoke the old tree, “you’ve been here a long time.” Startled, Diadem jolted awake. From his lips he let slip into the moist air, “Did you just speak to me?” The wind rushed and Diadem braced to hold his posture. “Quiet, boy. This is no foolish matter.” He recognized that maybe just this once he should hold his silver tongue. The old Grimly tree continued. “You did arrive here many ages past, long before me, and still you are stuck.” Befuddled, Diadem tried to intuit the true meaning of the tree’s words, if indeed it was saying anything at all. It was rather difficult to believe that now he was talking with, or at least hearing the words of a tree.

“You see I’m a tree,” it went on, “I have only ever had a perspective of the world around me from right here. It takes a long while for me to branch out to the world, let alone to the cosmos. Sure every now and then I pick something up that gets left around by the locals or travelers, but for the most part it has been just me, and mine. Which of course is yours and everyone else’s too, but that’s beside my bark.”

Now Diadem was sure he was in his own mind, but this was something he felt was of importance to him. He stayed quiet. “Are you listening boy, you ought to listen to this,” it swayed, “I’m pointing out that you have had all the opportunity to reach the corners of existence and you still can’t figure it, let alone you, out. The perspectives you’ve shared have long resonated their truths with you.” Diadem relaxed, and attempted to sort out his head. “Is this some insanity of mine tryi…” The old Grimly stirred up the wind again. “Now boy, this is no insanity of yours trying to shake your limbs! As if you even had limbs worth shaking,” the tree chuckled derisively. “Insanity would blow those tiny saps away.”

Diadem stayed quiet, indicating he was ready to listen. “Once again the Grimly moved onward. “You have everything you could possibly need not to mention the potential for everything and more.” The tree fell silent. Diadem started pacing out time in his thoughts. “So how long have I been here?” The old Grimly howled, ” Long enough for you to be stuck boy, and that’s the worst you could be. I’ve never left this place, and I’d still rather be a tree than stuck.” The woods sang an eerie tune. Diadem pondered.

Reaching towards your face I hear you say, “Burn me.”
Condemnation I’ve been struck, the right cord plucked.
Now I prepare the sail, to travail, with sights on the grail;
I’ll find the way, compass arrow, chasing sparrows.

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Elevations of a Transitory Soul – 2

Some storms take us into their chaos and nurture us into what we have the potential to become. They break us open and fill us with the nourishment we desire, helping us to grow into the most beautiful of sunsets. They teach us to feel no sadness in setting. We have navigated the days and through the dark nights we will raise again. To birth a whole new twist on our hues as the grandest of sunrises.
-I.V.

 

“Your kiss is like a long line I want to be in,
Hold me closer so I can stop dreaming;
So I don’t go off the deep end” She sighed.

We’re already fallen from that cliff. They held on in the free fall.
She put her hand to his chest, he placed his hands around her waist.
And soon his face wiped the blood from hers, exchanging words with their tongues; creating new worlds with their love, that would soon combust and die to make room for the ones in both their eyes.  Their love was a phoenix born to burn a thousand times, to renew from the ash and embers of their nights, a new sight.

She said, “I want you to be right, but you always think you are.”
He breathes, “You know this is dangerous.
I can feel your heart beneath your skin.”
“It’s screaming raise me!” She yelled,
“and your hands are screaming take it,
we can’t wait. Boy you’re impatient; I want you, say it.”