In this moment
I am at peace
I sit in my tent
Crickets chirp outside
All is calm and still
In this moment
Archives: Poems
When they come for me
I pray that the pain is unbearable
So cruel that I have no choice but to fight them
It is the ones who come with comfort
To drown you
Those are the ones to be feared
There is no true path through life
Only what you choose
God gave an easel
And we made the paints
And this canvas of ours stretches further than the eye can see
Everlasting
The paint flows eternally
There is no dream that cannot be dreamed
No picture too big to make
Our minds paint the world
And any color we can dream is there
If we all have the courage to see it
In my mind’s eye
I saw myself walking down a grey road
Not really there
No landscape
No background
A solitary figure
Not a stick figure, but something close to that
A sort of ephemeral appearance
Not quite there
A shape, a shadow
Walking through this empty space
As he went he dropped pieces of himself
Or they shed off of him
Like flakes
Floating behind
Then a strange feeling came over me
Like I was floating
Everything seemed to shimmer
Myself and the world
And it was all the same
Does the creator walk among us?
I think he does
Have I met him before?
I think through all the people
I have unknown
Were there any candidates?
It’s you a voice says
Such arrogance, such blasphemy
Such grandiose delusions!
But perhaps there isn’t but one creator
The world is made of creators
To love is to be human
There is no humanity without love
But just remember it is bittersweet
I don’t want to be happy
I don’t want to sing
The gloom is my friend
The sadness my queen
The anger my master
The pity my priest
The nightmare my banquet
The struggle my feast
I don’t want to laugh
I don’t want to play
I want to get drunk and write poems all day
I cannot be kind and I won’t be polite
I don’t want to be loved, I just want to fight
Beauty is the dark
That’s what we do not see
That plaster walls, the crated faces
Everyone asleep
The tethered souls, the gated minds
Broken down to sheep
The muted tones of grayed out souls
All in the name of peace
After much hacking and clawing, a colossal funnel open on my left side
It was then I realized that my body was but a marionette to the god above
And that I was him and he I
My flesh but a silly prop in our theatre
Is my world just a world of thoughts?
It seems selfish to think so
That I am the only one pulling the levers
But this creeping dread always slips in
That I am the one in control