Nosce Te Ipsum

Do You? When your picking up your poison, do you feel the tinge in your nerves before you drink it down? Do you catch yourself and reason that it will be just fine? I bet you do.

Beautiful and broken pieces shattered glass all along the beach & I be drinking, I be mixing, and it’s not even the weekend

I knew this would come, I knew this would happen. It’s an age old rinse and repeat cycle with stains that never come out. I have been waiting for it. I’ve learned by now what to do, but still haven’t brought myself out to do it. You always want to believe you can prove yourself wrong in these matters – But you know that’s impossible with the intuition you’ve raised.

Write and do things that hurt, move to where you need to go rather than sitting around waiting to become numb to the shit, everything counts, even the small stuff.

I don’t know myself when I’m happy. So I haven’t written. I don’t mean to say that everything that came before was sad or even rooted in it, not at all. It scares me – because I’ve learned so far that I’ve gone and ruined all the happiness that has come before. I know I only brought the inevitable to the surface – Time running its own course would have done this regardless. So I guess I took fate and spun my own jacket. Wore it out and got the fit I was interested in. I’m alright with that. I like wearing and tear. The way you feel after digging a few trenches – Like an ice cold dip in the water is the only kind of refreshing that will get you good. Yeah you’ve got to be good before you can get great, so I go that way and then when I stand up like a wolf from the tundra, hungry and with focused intent, I seek the type of warmth that can only come from filling the belly. A deep warmth the sun can only begin to raise with its rays – A feast that fills you for days

That’s the thing about life, you can be right in it, right there, spending all the time you have with a person, and unless they speak it, unless they give voice to what is on their mind, you’ll never know what they are thinking. You can have ideas, but those ideas are only your own, feelings your own. You can’t know what they are thinking, but that’s the difficulty life throws at us – It’s hard because by default we only get to live one life first hand – All the other perspectives are postulated, hypotheses, drama we mix up in our skulls in hopes that we might have found someone else thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad, to spend together that oh so precious currency we all have come into by being here.

Know you, you’ve got so much you know you want to
I know you wanna,
I know you want to yeah,
You know I wanna,
You know
You know
You go up higher than me some days

Fragments

This is not home. No matter how much I’d like it to be. My only home is me. I’ll have beds that are comfortable, people I’ll love to lay with, but home will never be any of those. It will only ever be me. And it’s hard saying that seeing the way we’re all so perfect in this moment. Everyone has a good laugh now and again, but I’m always having a good one – I don’t want to laugh about this. If only we all could be comfortable in our own skin for long enough – No it’s not enough to fit in the skin, the labyrinth is where it all begins. I could tell you from the beginning I knew we’d have a hard time settling in.

Quotes for Quenching – 8

“The outcome was philosophical dualism with all the tragic-comic woes attendant on spiritual dichotomy.”

– Robert Graves, The White Goddess

And you’ve realized an end of this winding road,
Or so you thought from way back at the start;
That I know that I know nothing deeper than you.
& to know the depths I must have found you out
Yes, here I always was too!

It’s a grand joke pulled from the repertoire
You play the trade, it’s a choice not to register me.
You willingly think, but deny that it has any weight
Look at you struggle, just as the smidiots;
Contort and twist your reason each season
But who am I to warn you of tragedy?

Now this is yours, and so it’s mine as we feed off the vine

The Letter – 2

How much time had passed? Heart beat driving like Ayrton Senna in the Monaco Grand Prix; He took a few deep breaths and pictured a calm sea. Then he opened his eyes and the waiting was over. The calm sea he had painted rapidly rolled into The Wave by Katsushika Hokusai. His stomach dropped like Pheidippides after his run from the battle of Marathon to Athens. He really shouldn’t be so shook up. He wanted her to make her choice, but he wanted her choice to be the same as his. “How could I be so selfish,” he thought. Quickly everything he had lined up in his head departed with his exhale.

Just as quickly as it all left him, it all came rushing back as he sucked in a large breath of cool air. He began sweeping in his head. Everyone is always looking for something. They might not admit it to themselves, but you can read it. Especially when you know what they’ve been through. It’s not even a forecast; It’s actual. They have hopes hanging from their lips the way a ripe fruit weighs down on its branch. Even Tantalus wouldn’t reach for his hopes though. The way that forsaken man looked up at him and shook his head should have been more than enough to go ahead and lower the casket on this. He never locked doors though. He was never afraid of what might come barging through uninvited.

Where Are You Right Now

I have to write this down or it never happened, It has to have occurred, because if it did not then I never did

What are you doing? You can do this.
What do I think? I’m sleeping on a couch,
When I should be in a bed. The bed down the hall;
Sharing space with the person I never had to compete with.
Me and you were never a battle – You took me in;
Uncovered me and all the things hidden
beneath my unnaturally calm surface.

I know battles, with expertise in bloody confrontations. I know the look on the checkout girl’s face when she sees a little bit of him in the way I say, “You’re smile is contagious.” Or the glossy eyed stare of the estranged divorcee when my deep gaze into her says she matters triggers the memory of how he used to actually care; I watch her go down the long road to lost where she wound up wondering how much she still does. I get these things. I might not always be able to voice them, but a look into my eyes says it, it’s says everything, but no one is reading, no one is drinking.

This is not home. No matter how much I’d like it to be. My only home is me. I’ll have beds that are comfortable, people I’ll love to lay with, but home will never be any of those. It will only ever be me. And it’s hard saying that seeing the way we’re all so perfect in this moment. Everyone has a good laugh now and again, but I’m always having a good one – I don’t want to laugh about this. If only we all could be comfortable in our own skin for long enough – No it’s not enough to fit in the skin, the labyrinth is where it all begins. I could tell you from the beginning I knew we’d have a hard time settling in.

I know this has been so long, it’s like the only thing in recent history that we’ve known; I’ve watched you die before and decompose upon history’s bones. This will cut so deep, you will wonder where it’s going.

Some Are Just Wild And Free

I always wondered when you stopped loving me – I know I haven’t been seeing clearly lately, was it recent? Was it more recent than I’d expect? Or did it happen at some indiscriminate point ?

Well we look, but don’t dare
Touch, unless you like fire,
Unless storms are your forte
Desire like wolf, hungry, acute
Like friction to a match ignite
Turn your bed into an ashtray
Burn everything except our time,
Baby we will use it all wisely,
And wildly like the animals inside me.
Growl, roar, fucking bite me.
I like you feisty, I like you; Devour me.

Is it the birds in you or the cages in me?

Sweet Dreaming Leaves None

Felt this deserved more love

Dirty Window Pane Poetry - An Experiment

People might not ask, but they do want to know how you feel. It’s this odd thing we do as individuals. Rarely do we reach out beyond, “How are you?”, spending countless moments fretting the emotions of others; whether they have considered similar thoughts to ours.

It builds up with the strength of a great storm, and we wonder why we’re restless. We wonder, “And why is it I can’t stay dreaming when I am tired?” Answer how many times while awake did you consider another’s heart. And what did you do about it? Not anything. You slept. So now you will wake when you try to close your eyes.

-IV

I’m here to stay

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To Stay Updated

I wanted to post something in order to keep you die hards out there breathing. I’ve had no internet, and no time outside of all the OT to finish the current pieces I am cooking up. It’s been a wild few weeks. I’ve actually gained about 700 readers over this month. I never thought I’d garner such an interest from so many people.

That being said I certainly want to keep feeding the fire so to speak, but I’m not always able to post as I’d like because everything must be to a certain degree – It takes a lot to make sure I put the right words with each other – Perhaps in the interim anyone with questions for me – About anything – could ask them in the comments. I’ve rather enjoyed engaging with those who have chosen to fire at me, and would like to extend the opportunity for everyone to do so.

If you have any thoughts that have been prodding you since reading something I’ve posted… Go ahead and ask! If you want to know how I do what I do… Ask! If you want to tell me something dark and insidious, I’m not going to stop you – We could find the beauty in it together. You know how I like darkness! And If you don’t yet… you will!

You know I’ve always been open; I broke once, and couldn’t help but to stay open mouthed to this universe

Navigating Life is a Balance; An Art of the Heart and Mind

I just want to remind all of us to live fully the beautiful balance of the calm and the storm. If we only quickly glance at it we’ll surely miss. To do that I must remind us all of the tragedies we live, for with the calm and storm comes the rise and fall of the oceans. No matter how talented we become at navigating the currents or telling the sky’s signs; We will never be able to avoid the full circle of life – The nature of cycles

It’s a one way trip full of ebbs and flows towards and away from what we want; often by choice, and at times by circumstances. It is no easy thing to be mindful of this, nor to live fully. We will many times lose things, making us feel incomplete – even dead. This may be daunting, but remember you can not avoid the full circle of life. You must rise again, over and over. But to do this with more control of our self is the reason I want to remind us all. In the difficulty we often live by moment to the next, looking back or forward. We get attached to it all. Despite our reflections we forget to wake up, to step back, and integrate everything we’ve come across on the seas.

That’s what I want to say. Step back and look around. I mean really look. See what you have to offer others, and give to them. Not for what you think you can receive from them, but because we all deserve to give our unique combination of light and dark to the world. We are the hues that paint this world’s beauty!

Look around at all of you. Starting with your self and then the others. Although we are on our own, we are never alone. We are all here together, in this life together. As much as we have to offer ourselves, we have to offer one another. That is the supreme joy in life; To need only ourselves, but be driven by a desire, a fire, to give to others what we give ourselves.

One final note I want to add. Don’t take any of it for granted. Don’t take anyone for granted. Give them space if they need it. Give yourself space. Be understanding. Be compassionate. Learn to use your heart when it is easier to use your mind, and your mind when it is easier to use your heart. Navigate this relationship between heart and mind, – you will traverse the waters, not with ease, but with insatiable curiosity.
– IV

I’ve still got a lot to do, I won’t stop until…
Matter of fact I’ll never stop what I do,
Even once I’ve made it _____ to ____.

Silence Won’t You Tell Me

Silence says she loves me, in some twist of the concept, silence says be gentle with my heart, be smooth with your touch, and joyous in the lift of your lips, to allow gaze upon such bright star, a beam worth sharing. My mind at ease in the silence, I feel no weight, and am touched by its’ kindness, for it does not judge, and understands the flow of love through its’ opened veins,
I do wonder though was it worth to break the silence, for one moment of naive gratification.
Oh foolish me – I do know my courage would take me to any precipice if there be a way, and this moment it seems it does not take me to the height I dreamed, only to fall silent in its winding down, of a wild goose chase – This was my place to find. This moment of reflection. I do look out across the cosmos through my silence, into the flows – simple webs of fate.
I find we do ever change, crossing paths over and under every which way, we influence the silence in how we position our selves to hear it; from a far or to the closest possible step. Oh what am I saying to you, who does not speak. Only with time do we know where you will interfere, and in your wake we slumber – closing eyes to the most beautiful piece; a heart that beats for nothing in return.
A heart that does beat till it ceases to do so, but an echo that travels till it is picked up again, in the silence by all those who listen. I assure you… out there I am listening, to my own beat in some dark room, upon some shaded grass, upon the whistling winds across the swept plains, and in the morning dew beading down your favorite fruit. I hear you.
That alone is enough to carry me through these lives with ears tuned for listening, and eyes wide for reading. Oh eyes for reading! Eyes for reading all that we have never spoken – because with open eyes the world is one giant collection of unfinished books. Collections I’d be damn proud to share, if there were another willing to feel how I do about you silence. Silent, silently you hold my hand, and this is the only story that has ever been. Laying in the silence – I am.

-IV