I’ll Be Somewhere Committing Myself

We talked for hours, and to be honest she mentioned yah eventually,
But I don’t think it mattered…

Like the child who puts a toe in the water, then a second, next a foot followed by the whole body; Followed by elevations of the soul, elated! There is no slaking a thirst for the wild unknown, the sense of depths on all sides – even when the concept is less than novel like the tipping of dominoes – how satisfying is it to watch them fall?

But really it is not that deep,
I mean life feels good so fuck it, I’m feeling, and everything’s golden, shine shone – whatever tense you want to use, look me in the eyes while we finish what we started.

What can you do but watch as someone tries to pressure you into what they desire?
You can hit them with a real hard frame – A hammer if you wish, but most people can’t handle that sort of revelation. So go alone. Leave them at their tables, with their offering intact or not – it doesn’t matter. You will go find the real grail. Let them get drowsy and forget! The well is within you, not them. They don’t feel the tightening of will when another empty pale is pulled up! They don’t feel the nostalgia for abundance, nor recall when you poured the crisp waters into wasteful troughs!

Commit yourself, and leave them. They will hardly know your absence.

My Last Words On You

A body moves in this darkness,
a wayfarer of sorts pedals feet.
Travel is one all minds will meet.

I should have filled the water for you before I left.
Not that you can’t, but I worry for your wrists.
I know how you love to play,
and cringe to think how it sometimes can be in pain.

And here I am quiet,
I look up and catch your smile as you sit on the toilet.
Gross – A word that not once came to mind;
Even without a rose colored lens;
Your caring color is the way I saw you

Your hair is down, so that means you’ll wash it now,
I always like to put my hands through it and remove the tangles.
How long did it take me to remember not to splash water off my shoulders and into your face? You say it’s fine, but I fear not learning from my mistakes

I didn’t get the chance to hang the painting back,
But that’s usually how leaving turns out in the end.
Selfish at times, but I think in ways I made it right.
How arrogant of me to pen that in here as a line.
My very last words to you, I know you’ll be just fine.
But if you’re feeling it, hearing from you would  be nice.

And did you ever talk about that shock you got living in your spine?
Yes you know you’re a magic entity, and it’s all familiar lines.
A taste you’ve had, blood you’ve sowed, your palms where sprouts begin to grow

There Was Something I Wanted To Do

There are a lot of things I want to say, things I know [you] aren’t ready for. I’ve spoken in haste before – It was not pretty.

And look at you all with your fingers. Must you point any more to something other than your own. A cacophony of macaws losing their heads like the music has stopped and I’m the last one standing. I will keep mine on right, and note your terrible acting. I have to trust what I do; You can have your doubts, but I don’t need to go any further on that. Do not proceed to speak on what I meant by that to others either. I don’t deal in lies, nor the contempt they breed.

You know how I go for danger, the risk of something going to hell and the potential to be enough; It gets my blood fucking hotter than, well let’s just say hotter than a seat at the bar down with the devil. And you know how hot that seat is baby. Yes let’s not pretend. I should pause here. Yes. I will stop here. I really need to temper this patience. Maybe I’ll stop forever. Triumph, won’t you just get out of here while you still have your dignity? Disaster why do you always play the fool? You two, impostors, I will outwit the both of you!

Yes and here it is. I’ve got a few more things to pile on. Let me just put this right up here to finish the stacking; Perfect.
Now I’ll just take this heat and burn everything I know down to ash, It feels better to have nothing. It really does. When nothing becomes something, heck that feels smooth. Going back down if you can’t help it – Now that’s a bad trip. I’ll start over with not a rag in my stomach. After this you won’t hear another bit about it.

Me and death get along well, although he’s still trying to have that night cap with me; I just tell him some other time.
I know he won’t admit it, but he admires me – for all the times he’s held me close – I brought myself to his door, but unlike Faust I act before the final stroke! I tell him no matter how frail I seem in those moments, I will always have a strength greater than his grasp. I tell him even after I pass, he will not be able to remove the pen from my hand. You know I’d hold that sword so tight that even if my arm was severed my will would force my nerve and sinew to hold on! He chuckles always telling me I’m such a joker. I elbow him in the ribs – literally – and let him enjoy his ecstasy.

They’ve all been trying to kill me, the crowd. Throwing their filth and heckling the man, I am not disturbed. I have been dirty. I have been unrecognizable to myself. Now though I have found me, and I don’t much feel like getting lost in their havoctry.

Pardon me your majesty! Royal highness, you are dressed the finest – I’ll walk with you – but I do like to wear this more common thread which I know your wisdom can respect. A smile is enough to pretend. Let us now part great friends, and anytime you call on me I’ll pass along my earnest answer, for you like my enemies may share my bed.

Here we come to you, this unforgiving minute, what will we do. An hour is far too long, and anything less than eternity is not enough. Let’s settle for 60 seconds. I know, I know, it’s the same, it’s all semantics. For you I’ll give my all! I’ll fill you with my best effort. Now you may call me as you like, but I am my own and what I decide will be my sentence.

You know I’d try Romeo’s vial after Juliet’s ill fate just to see if she might have missed some – Women aren’t always better than men at finding things than they think they are.

Quotes for Quenching – 16

“Time heals all wounds. And if it doesn’t, you name them something other than wounds and agree to let them stay.” – Emma Forrest

I watched her walk around with it for a long time; She saw me do the same – It was in our eyes, in the way we hesitated to say hi. You know, everyone has questions they wouldn’t mind asking, but it’s too much to ask of a person if you aren’t sure they wouldn’t mind. It’s too much to try and press yourself into the cracks, and attempt to soak out whatever shouldn’t be left to fester. So that’s what happens. Eventually we get around to tending them or someone else comes around and reminds us that we should take care of it – That it is okay to take care of yourself. And that’s when we get the chance to grow, where we are reminded that silence is our friend. We want to say something, but we have broken that trust, and it is up to someone else to restore it. Don’t woe over what you did in error because that only leaves behind what should be removed. Years later it will be healed, and forgiven; All things in time will be fine.

I was chasing through the city of faith, if I could just reconcile my disbelief with where I had found my feet. She was inked – Far more than the sketches of past lovers covered her skin. Even the hardest of warriors can kneel before the softest of things; Don’t be fooled, this softness is purely out of love – I mentioned once – The fiercest thing I ever felt was her bearing fangs down on me. I quiver at the way I was rounded out, the way I was gleaned from roughness, the way my cracks were filled as she lay atop me pressing into whatever wounds I now have long become one with. That night she gleamed like the crest of a lighthouse from my chest, and still I could only pretend to not be blind to love.

Of course I wanted to ask, I felt it deep within me to know what you held, but I knew it wasn’t my place to – I always wondered if you understood my silence, and if you never did… I accepted how you’d see me.

And What Is It We Will Tell All the Children

I see so many becoming distant, filling with hate and anger, and it scares me – I am afraid they will look to the past as an example of how to get what’s desired rather than using the powerful reason and imagination resting within to birth something beautiful and new.

Will it be that we did our best? Will it be more lies?

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

Don’t Be A Dinosaur – Evolve

I’ve recently started opening my other blog after quite a hiatus.

I would like to welcome anyone who hasn’t already found it to check it out, and possibly enjoy my most recent post on listening skills.

So here it is: http://www.dontbeadinosaur.wordpress.com

If you take the time to explore, I hope you find something worth your a sliver of your time today!

Thanks,
-IV

How Best To Learn Of Your Magic

I wasn’t always consistent – I was consistent in that though. My thoughts gave birth to a delusion that I unknowingly wedded to truth over a brisk summer bonfire; Inspection of my actions would tell of divergence from the center. I let go of the wheel, and everyone else was screaming. You, finally had enough of me. No one else could drive like I could. We tore through a whole night without direction and things burned; Oh I swear I held the torch, and forgot I was meant to light the way. It was my fault. I was blamed. I take responsibility, if you didn’t know. But the pressure was immense – Is that ever an excuse for falling short, for not having adequate flexibility a breath’s breadth from adversity’s maws? I know I’ll never do so again, but is that still a viable explanation?

I know it doesn’t fix anything. I get it. You don’t get to turn anything back – We don’t turn this ride around.

I saw it all burning. You wanted the joys one sucked from the marrow of life; Marrow is so deep. When you pulled from the stones what you wanted, my understanding was not enough. I could only bare to look for a few moments at the destructive path I had wreaked. I had to divert my eyes. Never again will I stand by without action; Never again will I forge such weaponized words. I’ve hurt enough, and all I want now is to heal.

Who knows how to heal better than the one who has most intimately wielded destruction
Further, who knows best how to destroy than the one who has healed the most devastating of wounds.

I never thought you’d be the one to shoot me; I guess point blank was the only way I’d go.

Lessons For The Broken Compass – An Alchemical Journey

You don’t have that same intense curiosity in your eyes anymore, and you know it. You stopped fanning the spark, and let the flames settle down. Everyone knows how much of you the blaze consumed, but you don’t have to do none of that for us; None of this will get it all back, and we all missed the forest anyways. Thankfully it will grow back in the time between now and eternity; and knowing you, that’s got to be your plan. You’re smart, you know you need the trees, and soft grounds to walk across. What happened to your wilderness will always be a singe to your senses, but it won’t bother you so much. You know you’ve got to be able to start again from your beginnings and never breathe a word about your loss – That’s the joy of growth.

Yes there is much to be sowed, as infinite to be reaped.
Would you know the difference between self and wheat!

Did you ever decide if you’d paint perfection on that marred canvas?

It seems whatever reaction once chained, transformed. And suddenly we were strangers again; There no longer was any taste lingering. Perhaps it’s my memory; bad with particulars, with holding emotional thoughts. I could put you into my mouth & be shocked by the flavor. Are you clear? I’m red. Colors are such story tellers – You’ve got a painting on your face.

To put something so pure upon the tongue, to be so hot with one’s blood, awfully wild for just a night.
Tore the armor off and discovered flight. Going on down and you might, find a thirst for such a life.
Here you are in the bed; All that is wanted is your head.