|Old souls.....onlyPage 5 of 274 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41)|
|Almost half way..|
Amongst the pines, swaying gently. I lift my eyes
to meet your brazen gaze..You smile a slight smile
given to the moment
A brittle wind gusts screams through
you cover me with your warming smile
you dance a bit among the fallen needles of pine
the heady smell is intoxicating as you are
Watching in wonder.... possible
Take me further into the pines
show me your dance.....
give unto me your rhythm
I'll meet you half way
You pause and turned away
..........capturing my smile
with but a glance
you take it with you
deeper you go into the forest
I follow......You've gone beyond
the hills where the truth lies
do i dare approach..
this path of wanting
The timber in your voice
resonates throughout me
Naming me...calling me..
I approach slowly..
I'll meet you almost half way
we'll see where this path leads me..
This melodic pace enthralls me
call to me again..
for I will merge beyond this
point of halfway with you...
If we are kindred...
Posted: 2/24/2007 9:53:57 AM
|Language unknown to me|
familiar yet distilled
it resonates through me
As a wolf cries to the moon
The aching begins, just behind the
bottom of my conscience
raising the glass...I sip the smooth
liquid, yet entranced by the
language you speak
in tongues or in spirit, bring forth this
splendor and share
with me for this time, sipping the hot
warming liquid....finding softness in you
boards sing and cry beneath my feet
as I walk towards you..
As in a trance..I succumb
sweet hot liquid, drowning in thoughts
of this language
My walking stick in my hand
gathering strength to lean upon
it and proceed with no head
the smell intoxicating, this language
reeks of something familiar
my mind knows this
my very soul feels this
yet unable to recognize this
passing through your eyes
seeing all...dropping this
crutch of a cane,footing
found, you grace me with
the support of your tongue
give to me the sweetness of
your hot liquid
come with me
I ache for your sweet hot liquid language
folding into myself..
I awaken..soft, languid stretches of
a casual grace..What is this I smell
a sweetness..tasting not remembered
a warmth grows inside of me and
I come back into your language
your forgiving, welcoming strength
envelopes me for
Posted: 2/24/2007 9:25:07 PM
|Behind...I really enjoyed this..|
Sweet...I trip over myself when i read your writes..I'm so touched and moved by them..Thank you all for sharing.. I adore this place..I'm warm by the fire here.. with all of you..TY.
Posted: 2/26/2007 9:47:00 PM
|Maiden of time.|
The dust settles gingerly on the tips of my fingers..
While continuing on, tracing, lingering here
a bit there...another crusty edge
to trail along, with fingertips...
Aisle after aisle....Wandering..Testing memories
I study my fingertips...a mauve glow encapsulates
the tips now, a streak of light crosses. The dust
dances as if for a show of its own..
The sunset breaks through the gray day, through
the panes of glass at the end of this Aisle..
Pausing, looking, reflectively...
Bantering within my own mind..
To continue looking..The softness of the shelved ages
come to my attention....Lingering but for a moment
longer, pausing..Studying the title a bit closer..
The author comes to mind..This book, this is the book
I've looked, touched and freely flowed amongst these
beautiful relics, to stumble upon this..Author..
Touched my cheeks are of a flush..
Rushing to my senses I gather the knowledge
quickly begging my attention..Read, write of
only what you know..The message is clear.
Fingers lick the pages, cautiously as to not
disturb the golden flickering dust settled
of ages, knowledge..
Speak to me, the wisdom for which I search
Give me lead to continue on in my queries
There it is again..Read, write of only what
you know..Have lived. Define your style
giving as takings.
Entranced by yet another layer which has
embedded itself upon the tips of my fingers
Blessed am I for this knowledge comes into
me through these means..
Wanderings of Aisles...
Dust proof of the endless ambling
I study intensely the words given to
us, me, by you..
flows freely, relentlessly given
It hovers but for a second
before sharing with ancient coverings
Drops...a single tear.
This lineage I leave, a mark, that
I was here..
Show me another Aisle..
Another blush of conscience.
Posted: 2/28/2007 10:53:39 PM
|Stepping .. Glancing|
Mingling within my own thoughts..
He comes to me
Smiling, he sits..
Enchanted I am with his gaze
Rapture begins within..
The fire pops and flares
I feel it's heat. His gaze
Fixated, I approach him
offering up a glass of
time, wine with me.. pray you
Slowly we dance this dance
of lost time..Remember not the
aches, but the smiles, joys
Giving to me he embraces me
within his grasp...Pulling me
to the sea...Lost...Revealing
in his gaze, once again.
I find him my common..
swaying into the sea we
Testing..Come with me
to the fire..
let me warm you..
Following, my common..
We dance into the evening
in front of the dying fire to
be warmed but by a kiss.
Sheltered we dance
a rhythm of one
Shielded from the outside
solace...within the eyes of
Posted: 3/1/2007 6:42:03 AM
|*mikael* awsome same as the song on your site been listening while browsing the posts thanx for sharing |
Posted: 3/2/2007 2:45:07 PM
|.........Meticulously, flawless in the pursuit|
kneeling by the running water, tears spill
befuddled by the actions brought upon
oneself......confusion sets itself as a
Processing the flowing water, it's
ebb and flow upward...as the journey
The battle ensues within....
turbulent...tormented by her own
flaws...too strong to soften..
or remember how to......
Fearful the mistake is a grievous one
too many questions, glances
fleetingly remembering a time when
one did not matter...........
The warriors goddess in her own
right, of passage..
Lays down her weapon
Drifting downward, it
spirals towards the ground, to her feet
Crouching, follows the weapon to
lay amongst the ruins
................of her own doing(s)
Receding into a time of a different
matter, a voice calls to her...
consciously looking around
the water trickles from her forehead
unbeknown to her...
standing just above, watching
he is still, watching, the reactions..
Too forward with her words, too bold in her
stands, opinions, they are now her
enemies. Of her own doing.
An ache begins, the light within the
the water flows somewhere
atop her head, he stands, out of
Laying her weapon(s) down,
sword sheathed she ends this
Entering into the water
she drives the demons
...to never be found
Emerging naked as a newborn
the journey has begun
Warmed by thoughts
of more, she walks
forward. A new world.
Posted: 3/2/2007 3:03:01 PM
|The old bridge moaning|
beneath her request for
A cackling startles her
Naked flesh rising to the
eerie cawing of the unknown
intruder, beneath the bridge..
continuing the pace to
recover to the end of
this passage....a hand
Ancient, times have not
been good to this...
long filthy nails
claw at her leg as she
passes, the cackling of
the gurgling voice...
Spurring herself forward
feeling, the hand anchors
tightly upon her ankle..
Coming down, the bridge
bemoans her capture..
Looking furtively sideways
the eyes are mischievous
the face horned with spots
of age, drying, dying cells
protrude from every inch..
The sight makes shrill of
her voice..Sending the crows
howl in the presence of
Rising, he motions for her to
stand..Oddly looking, as if
struck..Gazing into those eyes
a kindness enters her heart for
him..Releasing his capture
handing her a cloth enough
to cover her. He smiles..
Suddenly..the gurgling becomes
a melodic transformation of words.
Be naked not you, journey into
this world new with insights
finding the truth is but a seeking...
Take away you from this place..
leave not the cloth
find your way through the
center of the forest where
you shall be taught..listen
well..look deep inside...
find...the well..follow the water
through the woods to the spot
of your salvation.
The cackling returns, glinting
with a gleam in the eyes, it
smiles and turns, back under
the bridge..This troll, so wise
in its knowledge..Following
water...through the center
of the woods, the hardest
part is yet to come..
Soothingly naked once again
forward, with the troll in close
proximity, the crows her guardian
through this journey..
Posted: 3/9/2007 6:59:28 PM
|Emptiness echoes through the hallowed halls |
in the recesses of my mind, bouncing, glancing ,grazing
coming up short. The matter of the mind...
Nothing is as simple as it appears, in the words
processes to gain serenity in those place
in which ideas, thoughts bounce and
Trying to take flight, looking to the left
then to the right, standing there off to
the side. Not motioning, not moving,
For the acceptance of my mind to wrap itself
Bantering deep inside the caverns, with of all
myself..I digress..Seemingly time is not of any
matter, but a piece to be gained and nurtured..
I come to the center of this being, living, thriving
for a resolve..
Standing, searching, mulling. Beginning to gain
knowledge that..It's not the searching of thoughts
and ideas or ideals
Its but the human condition, my condition.
I accept..They fall to the ground as if they've lost their
air for flight. I've taken this from them.
Peace settles upon it's own mercy.
Calmly I walk towards the waiting matter. For time is
not the enemy but the merchant of this mind.
Posted: 3/10/2007 7:39:10 AM
|Alas, the soul !|
Forged from many,
Molded to one.
Formed from spirits,
Like teachers, like kin,
Dreams and thoughts,
Formed in a vessel,
A body of life,
A carrier, protector,
Nurturer of sorts,
This is my soul,
Alas this is me.
|a crude awakening|
Posted: 3/10/2007 8:50:23 PM
|(Um... hi there. I'm new to poetry, but otherwise feel like I've been here forever.)|
Sometimes I wake up suddenly
Breath half caught
Damp and exhausted
Fighting battles in my sleep again
Receding images on my screen
Tattered wings dragging on wet asphalt
The sound of despair
Vast golden beings intertwined
In a passionate frieze
Was it love or war?
Echoes of ancient pain
ricochet between the strings of possibility
The choices not made
The path not taken
Was it me?
Was I the one?
Had I only…
If there hadn’t been…
But there it is
I emerge fully into consciousness
Ensconced in my edifice of shame
And time slowly gels
Back into thixotropic stability
Or something like it,
With gritty corners.
Now to face the day…
Every human interaction
Tainted with remembrance
A faint double image
An aftertaste like old honey and dust.
Sometimes I long for the peaceful sleep
of cats, or young children
But then I remember…
Too late, I’m already awake.
|a crude awakening|
Posted: 3/10/2007 9:07:32 PM
|Thank you, Truthisee. Maybe it would be more accurate to say... I've been writing for years, scattered bits and bobs, but this is my first time out of the closet. It just never occurred to me anyone would want to read it.|
Us old souls have a tendency to isolate, somewhat.
Posted: 3/11/2007 9:36:13 AM
|Such a welcome I had not forseen|
inspires more words from in between
the strokes of darkness
Free to dance
amid phonemes of ancient rime
barnacle encrusted underbelly
ponderous with slime
What grace lives there
within this carcass
Your actinic glare
makes shadow melt
with knifelike edge
while I grieve
the loss of innocence
Wielding primordial myth
revelation laid bare
sting of betrayal
My creation perverted
by the angels
Ah, how we shimmied
thru strands of time
our brilliant mischief
Today, forgiveness awaits
while I berate
my cosmic lapse
This curse of density
as I dance free
Posted: 3/11/2007 11:09:41 PM
|P.F...It makes me wish I was a damsel in distress...What am I thinking...I am!|
Posted: 3/12/2007 2:05:15 PM
|~Color my Soul~|
Like a blind painter,
with my brush,
I paint your heart with love.
Color your soul,
About the one thing I know,
I have once felt,
great love in my life.
Soon some found love,
too much of a strife.
I have never felt that love,
before in my existence,
and have never met that again,
for I keep my heart at a distance.
I am missing the other half,
of my colorless canvas soul,
Ever searching through this world.
For one to make it whole.
I will ever search for the other half
of my soul.
With my brush to color...
Posted: 3/12/2007 2:25:00 PM
| I loved "God took my balls"....|
I'm having a hard time getting the juices flowing this evening..
I'll be back with superglue and ball splints
As soon as I get a clue or a hint
Prosthetic man-marbles easily attatched
Wait 6 weeks before you run a batch
Posted: 3/12/2007 2:49:50 PM
|Laughing my ass right offffff...you are too f-ing funny|
Posted: 3/12/2007 4:37:27 PM
Delicious and sensational dish
A naughty little boy's only wish
Whipcream and a cherry or two
A creamy delightful surprise, for you
Intoxacated with desire and passion
With a little kinky reaction...
My lips taste like sweet wine
Tender cherries you wish to dine
Devoured to the very last drops
With no restaints ...one pops (or both)
With a twinkle in my bedroom eye
You are one hell of a naughty guy
So next time you desire whipcream
...only in your dream
For I will never let you rest...
Knowing I'm wearing my...Sun...Day...best
Posted: 3/13/2007 11:24:45 PM
|Ferocious smiles bleed moist velvet secrets as haunting broken porcelain gods squirm in eternity|
Posted: 3/13/2007 11:30:40 PM
tomorrow lies suspended only for a few hours
dry heat consumes us
the winter is upon us
Posted: 3/14/2007 12:12:55 AM
Time evaporates the shadows of tomorrow
A new day is born
Peeled away and put into a box
We again awake
Like rotten apples, our minds shrink
Breaking off into fragments
They are consumed
Posted: 3/14/2007 12:09:36 PM
|Leaning so long on the side to rest of this old worn and burly oak|
The marking from the bark, battered and tattered left on the skin
a deep reminder of the struggles within. New buds sprout begging for a spring.
Momentarily a spell of learning, knowing, guiding, as the mist
evaporates the truth of the shores be known
Found is the sanctity of the realities.
Gathering the making of a small fire it lights
and feeds upon itself, growing. Looming larger, I sit
by this warmth and gather strength, knowing it was but a
trip in time. Visions do not flounder, growing stronger
In this strength the truth be known. A short trip this one.
Gratefully, I let go. Tears well inside, but do not spill out.
For this I am motionless, waiting for the fears to resume.
...............They do not....Gathering the strength of the lessons learned.
From this one....Cold, hard as the barren Oak, in a different time.
Not this one, not this time. Looking down I reconsider
the markings from the bark. I touch the tip of the last
It's hot...yet..from the fire.
I am warming again. Nothing eludes the blowing tundra
in my mind.
Whisper again, to the lost and lapsed of hope.
There will be another. One day. Somewhere
in this time..If but time is allowed to lean upon and
gather the passings of deep marks of the bark.
This too will be seen..Rejoiced upon the knowledge
of strength and heart to not be questioned.
The belongings of my mind are ripe, walking
now upon the new buds in hopes of the rains to come.
To well upon the roots and give renewed life.
Stumbling upon the lush greens, in my mind, perhaps
of a softer side of the life about to spring forth.
This welcoming solace...The everlasting truth of
................our own...Drowning the evil side, It's beckoning
force reaching, stretching. Denying it's time...
Deny this force........
the life within bubbling, begging for the chance.
Posted: 3/14/2007 3:19:23 PM
|Time rots away stiff caramel prisoners as voices seep downward from a decayed picture...|
Posted: 3/14/2007 8:18:45 PM
Yearning, I come back to this place
Knowing you've been here..
The mirror reflects back, the wandering
soul . I remise this reflection
The caress kindly to that of a gentle
breeze..Comes upon this notion..
I am a slave to this joy..
Crushing I see the flushing of
cheeks, flesh open
Giving stride, taking into the last dance
surrounding in this reflection a wisp
of the breath...Ragged and kind
dauntingly in its avenue
Containing nothing for it matters not
Come with me to this place
Surround yourself ... within yourself
Bring onto me the joy of yours
show me yours hands, let me feel
the life in them ebb and flow
the very means of your doings
This life given you take more than
imagined....I rise to this
these occasions of splendor
Right or wrong, it is here
swallowing me as if a tempered idea
Following your hands with my eyes
I see, the underlying means
of this..Come with me
...........The fields are lush and rich
prepared for this journey I'll seek you
out..Finding you here and there..
In this reflection, we'll meet again.
.....More the day in which
the mirror lays shattered and crumbled
and your touch and caress are real.
Sealing this with a promise, I give no unrest
Posted: 3/14/2007 8:55:35 PM
|To the North |
for the land is rough
warn and welcoming
This journey...of time to no one
to the world..I come looking for
my own..Do you see this
a place prepared to rest, laugh
smile and enjoy..The carnal lust
of wanderings..I kiss the smoothness
of reviving a sense of deep meaning
Standing tall I stretch, caring no more
for a moments rest than to be..
The aching of muscles yearning to be
released, coming to this place for
a mere glance at a families place of history.
From far away lands they traveled, given unto
this Nordic a sense of being here and now.
In this land rough, cold and of Northly
Entering, finding an aged picture
it shown itself to me. In dreams. His beauty
is indescribable. The love of big men comes to my
mind once again, dating this picture I see why..
The width of the shoulders, the setting of the eyes
the presence in which still comes clearly through
bygone times. His hand has encased something
once shiny and of essence..inscribed it is, not
easily readable. "bean-sìth beinn". I smile, remembering
history. How odd it is that i yet seek this history I've been
told since but a babe.
Foretold is this destiny. Battling myself moreover
to find one that is kindred. In the corner of my eye
I catch a glimpse, a large frame filling the side glance
Quietly approaching my senses, a welcoming humming
courses through my existence in this time and place.
The saying is for you, as inscribed. You will wail, bellow
and do so from a top the mountains. You will be heard.
Sought out you will be of your own. Lead you will.
Whispering in my ear. Depth of the voice courses through
me as a pin prick on my finger tip. I welcome this dialogue
of which I am not a part of, but a participant of.
Softly he describes a land not so far away. A time given
and taken. Of hostages in this land voluntarily. I smell the years
on his breath, I swear I do.
My mind is complete with this presence, which vanishes
before his voice finishes its assault of my senses.
The answer found, not clear, but a path to be traveled.
I leave this place comforted by his visit, graced with
knowledge that I fantasized him. No? I see the mountain
ahead and begin my journey.
For this I must complete. The winds will carry my voice
musings, wailing, rantings, through the trees carrying
to the ground, into the water. I will be instilled as he was
into this land of the North. To be carried to the east one day
back to homelands to give pause to those in search of a journey
I've captured and continue to travel.
........... time yet to be lived.
274 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41)