Your Attitude Is All You Have That Really Shines

Look how you get up in the morning,
Are you mad? Are you a king?
Have you forgotten your place in time?

A knight can’t hesitate to do what needs to be done. It doesn’t matter how you feel inside, because if your sword hand pauses for even a moment; You get cut down before you get out of your scabbard. And that’s never pretty.

So tell me how you feel when you don’t get what you want! By picking up your head, and getting back to what needs to be done. Don’t skirt a duty because it isn’t the ideal you saw in that fool head of yours. Do it now, and get on. The pages aren’t waiting. The river still running, and you’ve got water to catch

You really have a duty only to yourself!
But when you keep your sword sheathed you’re still making a choice.
It’s a choice about the world you want to live in.

Do you want to be remembered for the dents in your armor – Or for the efforts which you gave to others? You can turn your face and keep on walking, but you won’t build anything but a wall.

Some people are dark memories for this place.
Those that shine illuminate the shadows – All the others are forgotten.

The Hottest Night The Jungle Ever Had

“What is it which makes a man and a woman know that they, of all other men and women in the world, belong to each other? Is it no more than chance and meeting? No more than being alive together in the world at the same time? Is it only a curve of the throat, a line of the chin, the way the eyes are set, a way of speaking? Or is it something deeper and stranger, something beyond meeting, something beyond chance and fortune? Are there others, in other times of the world, whom we should have loved, who would have loved us? Is there, perhaps, one soul among all others — among all who have lived, the endless generations, from world’s end to world’s end — who must love us or die? And whom we must love, in turn — whom we must seek all our lives long — headlong and homesick — until the end?
— Robert Nathan (Portrait of Jennie)

What fool will first make a proposal? Is it you? Do you have the pomp? Will you claim your gavel to be judge; or do you think such things should be left to the faculties of twelve? Too many mouths when we need all the senses. I’m talking more than bodies! The dialectic won’t be swallowed by bites. Haven’t we learned this ? Where are the other parts! We need the tetractys – The whole is greater than the sum of its bits and pieces you keep fooling with.

We were talking love though weren’t we? Oh you can talk love all you want, but it isn’t there until you act beyond the things you expect to receive. And how do you know when you will? With any certainty? I’m not sure we can ever answer that. Perhaps it comes down to forgiving all the shards in your hands because it wasn’t after all their intent to slip into your skin. They simply existed; and you merely put pressure – And where the two met, they got to know each other.

I don’t want to get clinical nor do I want to be cynical. The world is rife with beautiful things coming and going. But you’ve got to keep the basics together. You’ve got to work with a body of matter, and then pull in other bits. If you plan to go from one end to the other, you must have something to go on. But here you are! You are sure, already, about what you have to go on! That’s why you’re barely visible from the steps. You couldn’t wait to get out there. To get out there and prove whatever started this fire, exists.

 

 

Perhaps There Is Flesh To Be Found Here

We talk about ruins. We hear the echos of empty hallways made for ceremony. And see melted candle wax dripped down the walls, and spilled all across the floors. Something grips this place; An air that stands in the way of those who wants to pass freely. It warns us with shivers down our spine – An almost familiar kiss to our ears and necks. We walk through ruins, and don’t tend to think much of it. Not everyone has the kind of grit, and righteous indignation it takes put the spirits at ease. You want to know this place, its’ pangs, what harmony it deserves to find; You step soft in reverence as if intending to compose a hymn with your innocent discovery.

Are they ours? No, we can’t claim things as alive as this; They are too hard to read. You laugh and say perhaps the dirt might glow, even shine in a jar! I too think and feel this. I can’t help but be eager to try given your childlike enthusiasm – We will have to bring a jar the next time. But I imagine before too long we’ll be picking up handfuls of dirt; Letting it run from our hands, while we take a seat on the earth, and trace the courtyard stones; Stones laid here for us to touch, in ways that we must listen to nature to learn of. We sit quiet for a moment, and the wild comes. Still is the air, but I know how fun you get when you speak with your animal tongue.

There is a spirit to it all, a mind to the matter, and none of it can be solely ours outside of responsibility to what we choose.

I’m Not a Love Poet, but Damn I’ll Worship a Goddess

She paints the world a beautiful hue:
Reds, yellows, black, and blues.
How can I ask for more of one
Who already gives the day more than the sun.

From whom’s light, like marble, she does carve
The winds, and rains which do fill
My lungs with breath, and wets my tongue
With desire to explore all the life she gifts
Forth from the dive into her depths,
The folds and crevices of her lovely landscapes.

I can see it with my eyes closed, and hear it in the silence;
Her beauty turns my thoughts, my heart beats wild like a fire,
and somehow her voice soothes these weary hands,
Inspiring my soul within, spark of a creator, to build.

Take me down, all the way down tonight

Quotes for Quenching – 13

“Inner beauty, too, needs occasionally to be told it is beautiful.” – Unknown

Whether it is anger or sadness, it’s okay to bring them here because I know how quiet the woods can get, and it is something you need when you’re looking for a soft place to hold up that will be equally as hard on the things you’re working to change – Yes, I know how quiet they can get, but don’t conclude that it is weak, god no the roots go deep; They hold far more together than the shallow mind will take notice of. You feel it in the gentle echo of brother wind whirling through the lush undergrowth, knocking on the windows of all the forest’s denizens – You feel it like the touch of rainfall through the branches, dripping down the bark and kissing the sacred ground. This is the art of your insides, a mental construction of the temple that is your spirit’s vessel, it is your greatest achievement. This is the story of all the times you drew water from the well, the details of how your hands gripped the rope to your center and gracefully lowered your skull cap down into the depths – It took grit to resist the burning in your fingers, the singing of your palms, but you did. This is that story, this is that little anecdote of the time you gave everything with no guarantee that anything was coming back, and how at times you trembled, but you never gave in. You never needed to be told, you pushed through every step of the unknown path, and only you know what you found; What blessed beauty!

So how dark does it get when only you can see?

Wisdom of Woja – 3

How can two souls cross, but only one gets a sense?

That my friend is beyond my knowledge. Of course it follows nature and its laws, though I never studied those in depth; Only ever made things happen, according to what was already. Perhaps it is like seeing someone in a crowd.

Her soul moved at the speed of light, but mine also was
So to each other we weren’t even moving.
Yet I saw her, and to her I wasn’t there.

If someone is all you ever look for, they will be all you ever see, as all the other beauty flows right by you; If anything is actually moving.

They Still Lost That Bet

I’m exhausted. I’m altering my style. I’m coming at you more fiercely, I’m more direct. I know to pull when it starts to get too heated – We know to breathe when we get too out of breath, but we don’t slow our pace – We don’t want air as much as we want to feel a genuine burn in our lungs; You just need some laughs shot into those veins. You don’t take breaks like you should, and I go right on without lunch. You do not look me in the eyes like those few times, fuck; If you ever did stop time it was when you were mesmerizing me with those gems – As for my ability – I managed to slow it down a few occasions by reaching out my hand to call you back to bed; Really the clock nearly stopped when we were nose to nose.

Can I be soft for a night?
May I melt into the sidewalk?
Would a laugh attack be alright?
Could I wipe cake on your cheeks if I’ll lick you clean?
I know you’d hate that, but it’s the lion in me!
I’m a loud roar, and the playfulness of a child we all need
I’m never too dangerous,
You know that about me.
I’ll take you to the edge,
and hold you over just so you can see it
Will I let you go over? Only if you ask me

She won’t look at you, & you know you don’t deserve closure; Not like the kind you’d get from her gaze where when she closes her eyes – After she looks away, Like the sealing of the garden of Eden – You’ll never find yourself to be a smiling memory on her mind. You’ll be random triggers; She’ll end up pulling; But she’s not afraid, we’ve nothing to lose. These things are ambiguous, like short term parking or, to be fair – If that is possible – The look she gives you as she leaves the library. Or maybe she doesn’t. We’re just people making up stories in our heads to tell ourselves as we lay down to bed. It’s really not that complex, if you can get your neck out above the weeds.

Yes, Step up to this next level,
You’re the goddess and deserve this view of the temple
The key is to keep your feet moving
Regardless of the situation your grit keeps your tempo
Do you think this is a good time?
Do you feel like this could be your first life coming so high?
You could sing all night for a breath of air.
Silence would be the last note on the score,
Tune so good everyone hits repeat though;
It’s absolutely rude of me to listen to you again after you go.

Do you want another example of how I don’t let anything rest in my head? I know the dangers of taking things too far, but I also know the reward for risking sanity – The danger of being too safe is eating far more potential than my forays into depths of the unknown – Everything is calculated. You’re calculating right now. Should you look up? Should you focus on the possibility that what you’re seeking is directly before you? Or do you keep it on your mind while restricting where you stare off into the distance; Fearful that you might have to confront something your eyes land upon – It’s costly to live; You will always have nothing, giving everything each day; I told you before what Euler proved right? Do you know how much effort I have to exert to get crystal clear ice for these drinks? Not all that much if I take the time to use the right tools. Everything is about using the right tools for the task at hand; That is if your skill is lacking. You know that skilled individuals can accomplish more with less – So what are you waiting for?

The sky was so big it broke my soul,
Reached to hold hands, and I turned into an ocean;
Became part of what I knew I was,
So vast but we still fit inside the only cup

I know you’ve been waiting and it’s hard to keep up with how careful I’m being – With how I may or may not be acting. You should do whatever you want, this is your vigil. It will be your last breath after all. I know you; It’s hard to feed yourself; So much is hard to swallow. The quiet has its lulls. You have your lulls, when you let yourself collapse. Have you ever burned a forest? Have you ever built up that friction amongst the tinders of your soul and blew gently with your heart’s weepings to set everything at your back, everything that lays before you to waste so you might pull from the last smoldering cache; like a slow birth, one agonizing shriek at the singeing of your finger tips as you reach in accepting the charring of your palms, to rip from that mess of ash the last ember; The reason we burn our forests

You know your worth is more than my lost wings.
I did not cut them off for you;
But the gods still lost that bet on what I wouldn’t do.

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 …

Rose A Day – 28

Every act you take is a chance for art in some way,
to breathe and exhale through your very essence.
– IV

I hope you’ve been breathing lately. Exhaling too! Any time you act it is a chance for art to seethe out of you, to spill from your mind to reality, and flow into the world around you. This is where seeing the beauty comes into play. You are creating your greatest masterpiece with each breath. What is it? Yourself!

You are a wondrous work of art. A magnificent work capable of weathering a harsher storm than your typical piece. You are the creative process. You are imagination. You are mind. It all pours from you. The process in which you act is the art of yourself. How are you painting your life?  Remember to choose your hues wisely. You either paint the beauty or you paint the chaos. Take careful consideration in this. I like to use a little dash of chaos every so often, but you have to make that decision. You’re very important. Such an important piece of art deserves the greatest attention, and APPRECIATION!

Where are you heading on your journey? It’s okay not to be sure. That’s what is great about being a dynamic work of art ;). You can change. You can go another way. Mixed media anyone? Find the beauty in everything. Look for the positives, look to grow, and keep the cool.

Rose A Day – 27

Gone forever,
I lament my bleeding soul,
gone for the better I know,
for my heart has grown.
– IV

Well isn’t that the truth? Every thing we allow to pass is an experience from which our soul can grow. It isn’t always easy, but it is a necessity. We can’t hold onto the beauty around us. Holding only keeps it from being free and truly alive. Remove the constant fear of loss. How much more beautiful is something when we don’t worry about grasping it?  How about when what we appreciate chooses to be near to us? Be patient. Don’t be in any rush. These things take time. Learn to navigate the things you feel. Direct yourself towards acceptance of you in the present moment. Work towards what you want, but understand that you are only happy if you choose to be. You see what you want. It’s easier said than done of course, but you aren’t going to let that stop you right?

Go on just say it. You choose happiness or you choose excuses. What good has an excuse ever done you? They only keep you from attaining your best and brightest moments. You might be good now, but how much better could you be if you stopped letting all the excuses you hold onto go? Have you found what you want to put time and energy into when you are alone?

Have you MADE the time (No matter how small) to explore the shore of what it has to offer? Would you turn down 15 minutes of walking on the most beautiful beach you could conceive of? HELL NO, YOU WOULDN’T. So why turn down any amount of time to do what brings you joy?

Stop disillusioning yourself. We don’t all get the ‘perfect’ life. Perhaps for the rest of my life I’ll only find 60 minutes a day to draw and write to you. Should I stop knowing I’ll never get to do more than that? What do you think? I know my choices. Now make yours.

When you get to the end of this day ask yourself, “What did I do well today?” Look for those positives. Build that momentum in your life. Soon enough you’ll be expecting to do better so you’ll have more to reflect on. This alone will get you exceeding expectations. Fan that fire baby. See your beauty, feel it around you. Stay cool!