When I was....

When I was young, I could see the future.

It was filled with things that I would do - would become. It was filled with permissions, possibilities, and paths. It was clear and unclear - it was a mystery, waiting to be solved.

And what I saw... What I THOUGHT that I saw.......

I did not.

It was a figment. A phantasm. A fantasy.

What I see now, is that I could not see the future. I could not see what would be. Who I would become....

I could only see as far as my horizon would allow for - I could only tell you about the things that I knew about.

The things unknown to me at that time have shaped me more than I could have guessed. The unknown has become larger than what I knew. The more that I experienced, the less that I could be shaped by the smaller world view.

As I grew - I grew.

When I was young, I could not see the future. I could not see me, or you. Or this.... I could not see where I am, or who I am.

Pioneers

Artless.

The sigh says a thousand things,

And nothing. It's a magic, of sorts....

Transmutation of lead to gold,

As promised, as foretold.

It is light from dark,

It is hope born of despair.

It is a painting that happens without an artist - it is a poem that happens without a single word.

Born in a blackout.......

Once again, we are...

Dream

Spin the sky

This is me

Sometimes Silence...

Sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes you owe it to them to NOT be silent. Sometimes you are obligated to offer up your voice, to be heard.

 To make sure that they know why you need to be heard.
And sometimes what you have to say cannot help you, or them. Sometimes the silence is as cold, harsh, and desolate as deep space. In other times, silence can be a comfort. An answer to chaos. A twinkle in the blackness of space. A place where only silence exists, free of pain and frustration.

Sometimes silence is everything.

We are water

Like murder

I see so many things that kill me -

some things that shouldn't but they do.

And if I don't say what they are,

then maybe they will just go away.

But If I give them a voice,

then they become more real.

So I let them eat away at my chest - at my brain.

I let them kill me, over and over and over.

But it's not a real death,

because I haven't given them the one thing that they need.

I haven't given in to them.

I haven't validated them.

I haven't.

I won't.

It's not a real death,

but it burns -

it feels like falling apart,

being torn asunder.

Like murder.

Sunburnt, again

Helios ascends

Like aspirations -

Visions of greatness

Delusions of relevance

Helios descends

Like reality

Scenes of truth

Facade fades into black

Helios, my old friend

Helios, my hated nemesis

What you illuminate you burn away.

Complicated constraint

Never enough is never ending.

That kind of hunger leads to drowning in your excess... And what do you have to show for that in the end?

A list of things that meant so much at one time, meant so much in one mind....

Step up and surrender it to the fire, push it in and let it transform before your eyes.

It's all wasted,
it's all rotten,
it's all gone
in the smoke and ash of rebirth -
born again.

It's not a cycle that never rests - it's just a beat within your chest.

It's not a sunrise, or a sunset - it's just the way that things get.

Complicated and constrained by the faults and that pain and that voice that screams for more.

Wasn't (Isn't): Moment

In a moment
In a life
In a thought there is a
Moment where you can
Change your life.
Imagine what wasn't
As if it had been.
Imagine what isn't
As if it were.
In that moment of thought
There can live a lifetime
In that lifetime there can be
An alternate life.
That wasn't.
That isn't.
But could have been.

The sight and sound of me

I saw a sight that was never seen.

It looked unlookable.

I heard a sound that was never heard.

It sounded unhearable.

And, in both cases, it was the same.

They were the same.

They were one thing.

They were - they are - chaos.

And they were - are - me.

Chaos am I, chaos is me.

I am that vision, that sound...

Chaos am me, chaos is I.

Was

What was once

Was then wasn't

Once it wasn't it wasn't

But when it was it was.

Wasn't was but was wasn't.

Once.

Spectrum of Time

A poem, by Carol DeFeo.
Used with kind permission, and heart...

Ask....

and answer. a period is different than a questioning mark.

ask and answer. tell and be told.

inflection and affectation create syntax and understanding.

subtlety.

nuance.

spirit.

answer and ask. be told. be telling.

be heard. be listened.

be clear.

Circle and sphere.

(null)

It's not a word, It's not a sound. It's not an idea of a concept of a thought that you thought that you thought when you were deep in thought. It's not a mental picture or a snapshot or a crystal clear vision.



I don't know what it is. I don't know what it was. I don't know where it comees from, or where it goes. I don't own it, control it, believe in it, want to take it to dinner, or want to shoot it in the center of its head.



It's not me.

It's not you.

That about covers it.

It takes a toll

Just a man

Jeg er bare en mann.
ikke mer.
ingenting mer.
bare en blanding av action og ingen.
rett og slett et mønster av gjorde og ugjort.

a smile again

completed

Source Image Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos

Thorns am I

Think Deep

Hunting Humans

We humans,
We, as humans...
We hunt. We seek.

We hunt for answers and understanding.
We hunt for reasons and logic.
We seek out places and people.

We hunt for someone that will know us - for someone that will see us as we hope to be.

To see the potential in us...

We seek to find a reason for the blue in the sky. For the hows and whys of magnets and electricity.
For the code that cracks the puzzle of DNA and god.

We hunt for acceptance. We hunt for a reason to get out of bed. We hunt for the perfect cup of coffee.

We seek out a hand to hold on a cold and wintery walk, a perfect fitting pair of gloves, and a place that we can call our own.

We hunt for humans.

We humans, hunt.

We hunt humans.

We seek and seek and seek, and then we die.
And those that we leave behind hunt for reasons why.

Gears of time

an enchanting surrender

Warrior poets.

Query?

What did you fail at today?

Luciferian Blossom