IMEISM
Hello to all and welcome to my home page!
First a little about me
My name is Joe I am a truck driver but what I am passionate about is writing. I am a hopeful romantic. Along with a small mission to change the world, I consider myself a poet, a philosopher and a man with a passion that cannot be easily extinguished. Certain occurrences in my life have tried to harden me but I keep bouncing back. I read a lot and write even more so I will publish my own work on here take it for what it is, a way to express myself and get through this journey that we are all sharing a ride on. I will try to keep it updated as much as possible. I am, of course, interested in many other things but this page is meant for the explaination of my belief of Imeism.
About the page
This page was made as a place to find out a little more about Imeism. Imeism was a concept I developed in high school, to try to express where I thought my place was in this creation. It became a forum for discussion in some circles, a call to action in others. Extremists found it threatening and before finding out what it was, condemned it. Some people, who were just looking for something to hold on to, rallied behind it but never took the time to research it to find out what they were rallying behind.
It started with a basic concept of why do I have to be someone I'm not to get through life. I am me! Hence the name, but that was only the jumping off point. That's where most people stop looking. Imeism became a mission to not only declare myself as to who I was but to make a trail that could be followed and to evolve my person into something extraordinary. Later I moved into changing the paradigm and trying to open the eyes of some very confused people. Where do I get off thinking I could do this? Because I was one of the confused, and I have been at times since.
Imeism is a belief in the individual, but the individual as a part of a system. This system interconnects us with everyone and everything. As a part of this interconnectedness, everything we do has an effect on everything around us. We are scared by our inadequacies, but being deceitful is the one way to push ourselves even further into our hole instead of reaching forward and uniting.
There is no end to the anguish society puts on the individual. Society sees the individual as wet plaster to be poured into a predisposed mold to be hardened into a shape that fits into there designed machine that will produce more plaster. Every now and then some plaster gets out of the mold and has its own individual aura. This piece of plaster is immediately labeled defective, rebel, trouble, reject. Well, this plaster is the plaster that holds the world together. There are to many masons out there forging this plaster into conformity. Let people be who they are. They have a station and purpose in life, as do we all.
Have you ever gotten a member of a large group alone and they tell you what they really think? You are now dealing with an individual, someone with their own ideas and desires. This one person is part of a group so large that the voice of this individual can no longer be heard. They are afraid to upset the herd so what ever they believe comes second, or not at all. It's like a bucket of crabs, as soon as one gets to the top and gets ready to get out, the others pull it back in. After a while, why struggle. The rewards for getting out are tremendous and the people you meet on he outside are the people you will have true relationships with.
Our lives are more than a series of jobs or bills. The theory of live, work, grow old die does not sit well with me. There is more to what we can accomplish than that. We tend to get caught in the "I need" syndrome. "I need" to make more money, "I need" to get a new car. The truth is that is what we want not what we need. To get a new car your going to need more money, to get more money your going to have to spend more time working, which will take away from doing the things that could make us extraordinary. When we do get the time what do we do with it, flip on the TV. Television sucks the life and energy and even thoughts right out of our heads and we go to it with a smile on our face.
This page is for myself as much as it is for anyone, so when I start to get a little lost I can find my way back again. I am on a quest to be a great person. That quest is very difficult for someone to do. Not very many people have done it in the history of the world. But how can a man become something like that? By actually getting off of his hands and making his life mean something. This page is another step in that direction.
There are so many obstacles on our path that get us turned around and we lose perspective and forget where we were going and why we were going there. The little things will always be there. Don't get fixated on them just walk over them. Easy for me to say? I've been there, I've done that. I've tried to ruin my opportunities more than most people by rationalizing what I "had to do." Believe me there is a path out of the darkness. If nothing else, my hand is there.
We ignore the beauty and splendor of nature as we hurry by trying to get ahead. Living our mundane lives, never stopping to see what's out there, to understand why we work to begin with.
Spending the majority of our time working so one day we won't have to. Wasting the most quality and useful time of our lives stressed out about how we will be able to afford the things we've already bought.
Day after day we miss the miracle of life, the wondrous world that lies around us. We forget that our time here is very short and that we should not be wasting it as servant to the daily grind. We have the ability to be so much more.
I was asked of my belief in a greater power. I believe in God. There are undeniable forces in the universe. The mere fact that energy cannot cease to exist shows that there must be something more...but what? I believe that the quest for this is the joy that makes life fun. Many unfortunate circumstances have happened to me, yet the growth comes from knowing that if it could be worse than its not that bad and it can always be worse. I've been beaten almost to death but I grew from it. I had my heart smashed but now I truly know what love is. I've had people very close to me die, they suffer no more, their journey is complete. We are the ones who continue the quest. Don't get stuck in your single stage, strive to be extraordinary and you will be happy.
As far as God goes I believe in a greater power. I don't know its name, origin or gender, but I'm looking, and I believe that it wants me to look. To look everywhere and develop thoughts and theories and talk to people and get them looking too. In a nutshell, that's my views on God. I think it approves.
We search for imperfections in the world as if at a magic show, looking at god as some magician whose tricks are so good we can't figure them out. Always we look for the secret, why it is an illusion. We look for the wires and the trap door never quite excepting it for what it is.
My life is my own and I impact it by my choices. These choices are similar to channel surfing. I watch what I want to when I want to. If one channel is not giving me what I need than I move to a new channel. In the same respect I choose who I am by the different paths I venture down. Each path can take me into new directions or return me to places I've already visited. There is always a choice. We sometimes make the wrong choices but that does not mean we can't change our direction, it is just a lot more difficult to cross over. Between these paths are thickets and thorn bushes. The crossing will be painful and to go back to the wrong path would be easier but than the pain would be for nothing and you’re still stuck on the wrong path. Lord knows I have my share of scars from my many path changes. Sometimes I feel the scars and calluses have hardened me, sometimes it makes me question my journey and the paths I've chosen. But for the first time I truly feel I know where I'm going and I have a map to get there. The magical world in front of me is fun and entertaining. I will except the miracle of life and enjoy the show without wondering where the wires and trap doors are. The show is free and I'm having fun.
What poetry is and has been to me
What is poetry? Poetry is a means of expression that allows a person to
extract meaning from a seemingly meaningless object or occurrence. Writing poetry
is for a wordsmith who needs a forum for expression that goes beyond normal
conversation. A poet is someone who is tired of the miss use of words for emotions.
The word love has been sold out in commercial advertising so often that the word
has lost its luster. How someone could use the same word that is used to describe a
dishwashing liquid, to describe their feelings for me is unconscionable. Poetry is
passion!
Edwin Robinson wrote of a man named Richard Cory. Richard was a man
with seemingly everything going for him. The cover of the book looked good but
the plot was weak. When I was 22 years old I was overweight, getting ready to go
through a divorce, and what I thought to be my career was folding in front of my
eyes. I was uneducated and had no visible future and I was alienated from my
friends and family. What made me such an incredible asset to business is that I was
a great actor. I looked and acted like I was on top of the world and that no matter
where I was, it was the place to be. I could glad hand a customer even though my
guts were laying on the floor in front me. Richard glad handed his customers also
"...he fluttered pulses when he said good morning..." meanwhile his guts were
laying on the floor, so much so that "...one calm summer night..." he went home and
shot himself.
Robert Frost spoke of being Acquainted with the Night, I too have "...walked
out in rain - and back in rain..." In my transition from overweight, under confidant,
uneducated drone to lean, exceedingly confidant, well read, man, I walked in the
rain too many times, stepping into puddles the size of oceans. Like crying over spilt
milk or cursing the rain, I heard the proclamation that "...time was neither wrong nor
right..." After my divorce I needed to find a way to become self-sufficient. I
reverted back to doing something that I vowed I would never do again, but I
rationalized it out into something I had to do to survive. I put on my coat and
"...walked out in the rain..."
This was my darkest era when there was no emotion only
negativity. I always thought it would be cool to have a "don't mess with him
attitude." I was wrong, it created a loneliness I had never imagined.
E.E. Cummings made it as clear as day to me in l(a. I was never as alone as
when I was falling. I would be alone no matter how many people were around,
most of my so called friends were with me for the exposure or the drugs. But as
Stephen Crane said in A Man Said to the Universe the universe owed me nothing. I
had forgotten the reason I had started this whole journey. Instead of becoming self-
sufficient, I had become dependant and lost the small piece of dignity that I had
once possessed.
The life I had been leading was actually no life at all. One day every thing
was going horrible with no change of direction in site. I was confused and felt that
life had no purpose. I was headed for Richard Cory's destiny. Nobody in my
family knew what was going on, my day job thought I was gods gift, and my
customers thought that I had the world by the short hairs...but they were wrong.
On a early Spring morning I took a walk down my street, after
one block I realized that I had never even known the next streets name, for I had
never taken a walk in my own neighborhood before. I walked for over an hour
discovering little things on the way. Children were playing in the street in front of a
house not unlike the one I had grown up in. "These children have no idea what's in
store for them when they grow up." I thought. I was wrong, it was me who had no
idea was I was in store for. I had no direction, was living for the moment, millions
of people had life ten times harder than I did and still were reaching for something
more.
I needed an outlet and my outlet came through reading and writing.
Identifying with other writers and seeing their poetic expression showed me a world
that at the time was unknown to me. I went to Virginia Kendall State Park where I
sat down on some cliffs that looked out over the Cuyahoga Valley. I knew that
hundreds of years ago some young brave, crashing from a night of mushrooms, had
contemplated his reason for existence. Which meant to me that maybe there were people
in the past who shared my anguish. Maybe if I wrote down how I felt and how I
eventually made it through it, someone might read it and find their own way through
this labyrinth we call life. Walt Whitman said in Poets To Come " Not to-day is to
justify me and answer for what I am for, / But you, a new brood...must justify me."
I started with Ralph Waldo Emerson's Nature, who showed me the difference
in what he called "...integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects."
Which goes beyond normal conversation, but leaves you something to contemplate.
He made this much more clear when he said "... it is this that distinguishes the sticks
of timber of the woodcutter from the tree of the poet." Then, of course, Emerson
led me to Henry David Thoreau, who took Emerson's theory from words on a page
into life in practice. Once Thoreau took it so far that he was thrown in jail for tax
evasion and Emerson came to see him. When Emerson asked "Henry what are you
doing in there?" Thoreau replied "Ralph what are you doing out there?" as if to say
you talk a good game but I am living it.
Shortly after this awakening I realized that there was so much to the world
than my little section of it. The drug trade had nothing to offer me but a slow
corrosion of my soul. I was feeding off the table of knowledge and for the first time in
my life the food was good, so good that I couldn't get enough. I decided to go
where the intelligent people hung out and that wasn't a bar. I Enrolled in college the
next day, moved out of my house and into a more collegiate neighborhood, and began
a new life away from those people who I once knew.
In college I realized that it is not a gathering place of intellectuals, just a place
that gives you an opportunity to better yourself and give you a choice in what you
want to be. I now write nearly everyday, not just to keep in mind where I am, but to
let me know where I was and what it was like. Nostalgia is a seductive liar and it
would be easy to look back and say to myself "it wasn't so bad" but I have it in my
own writing exactly how bad it was. Walt Whitman wrote in Here The Frailest
Leaves Of Me "Here I shade and hide my thoughts, I myself do not expose them,/
and yet they expose me..."
My philosophies are my own as are my poems and people can read them and
dispute them all they want. They can tear them apart to make them into what ever
they want them to be and that is alright with me. I wrote them for myself and for
others who can identify with the situation I was in. The burdens of the things I have
done weigh heavy on my mind, but a burden is only a burden until you get used to it.
People do not see my burden so they can not remind me of it. They do not know a
lot about me, they do not know the fear of someone saying "Don't I know you from
some where?"
My life is finally my own and it is much to the credit of the poets and writers
before me that I am the man I am today. Walt Whitman also wrote in Poets To
Come "I myself but write one or two indicative words for the future, / I but advance
a moment only to wheel and hurry back into the darkness." I only hope that during
my moment I can add one or two words that can have the affect on someone as
profoundly as many writers and poets words have had on me.
A man in a guys world
Growing up I have been bombarded with what people call the "guy's life." The male species is divided into two separate but distinct categories. The two categories are often confused but the differences are as obvious as they are pertinent. As with all walks of life, it is easier to slap a label on an entire group rather than finding the diamonds in the rough. The categories I break us down into are between men and guys. To break this cycle of prejudice I offer this reasoning to help distinguish the man from the guy. All males are driven by instinct. What separates us from mere animals is that we have the ability to control our instincts by use of our free will to overcome primary urges. Guys are more susceptible to these urges than are men. Guys refuse to think their actions through; whereas men look at the consequences of their actions. Men think, guys react.
All males have a strong yearning for acceptance; therefore they are susceptible to outside influence. Guys tend to be subject to their environment, blindly following the crowd like lemmings off a cliff. Men are independent and confident in who they are. Not having to be on the run or with another male to be who they are. Both want acceptance and have desires for companionship. Unfortunately a guys longing becomes self consuming, always afraid to be alone. A man's desire is something more controlled and becomes something he looks forward to. To put it bluntly, guys are followers men are leaders.
Goals are something males also share. It is merely the distance into the future that differentiates the man from the guy. A guy's goals will usually be short term. Men have short-term goals leading them to an ultimate agenda, a way to make life extraordinary. Men have a plan, guys have a play. A goal to a man is a target; to a guy it is more of a due date.
The way males deal with the opposite sex is the area of greatest differentiation. All heterosexual males have a yearning for female companionship. The guy sees this yearning as a conquest, something to achieve, conquer and then move on to the next battle. This "battle" falls under the adage that all is fair in love and war. They will lie cheat and steal to take the flag. Guys are infatuated and obsessive. They have an urge and will do what they can to fulfill it. Men, on the other hand, are passionate and romantic. A real man is not afraid of commitment or to show his real feelings. A man has convictions and follows through with them. A man is not afraid of being who is no matter what the crowd says.
A man loves, a guy lusts. A man sees sex as the ultimate form of sharing; a guy sees it as the prize at the end of a torturous quest. Guys consider women as possessions to be used as tools until something better or more convenient comes along. To a true man women are friends with whom you wish to find just one to share your entire life with, in every aspect.
Guys change with their surroundings because they are not sure who they are and are afraid they will not be accepted by the status quo. Men are comfortable with who they are and people respect them for it. Guys tend to think they will be respected if they ridicule the outsider. Men are often singled out for their individuality, they are considered different therefore browbeaten by the common guy.
A man is patient to find a monogamous relationship that will last, one that has positive potential. There are multitudes of guys in the world but finding that ever-elusive man is a noble quest, one that is endlessly rewarding.
Some of my work
The Artist
As I drive through the gloom before me
I feel the darkness of depression
The sky is a dreary gray
The rain is cold
The air
Because of the sharp wind
Is brisk
My attitude is torpid
I have begun the interrogation of myself
I don't care for what I find
I know what I want
But patience is not one of my greatest qualities
I turn on the radio
But that does not seem to help
My mind wanders to all my inadequacies
I seem hopelessly engulfed by the whirlpool of life
Destined by some fateful prophecy
To lie with all the other discarded waste
Suddenly I snap back from my self-depression
I realize that I am driving on the highway
My body knew where it was going
Even without my minds constant vigilance
I notice
It has stopped raining
The wind has died down
I remember thinking that the gloomy weather wouldn’t cease
At that time I was drenched and cold
I knew that I had six more hours of work left
Before returning to my hermitage
Unexpectedly the clouds give way
A window forms for the sun to peek through
The rays blasts an infinite amount of pastel colors
Against a canvass that reaches the limits of the horizon
I pull my vehicle to the side of a construction riddled highway
Being bombarded by the shrieks of horns
That come from the servants of the daily grind
Obviously this message is just for me
Or
Is it that the lemmings have their blinders on so tight
That they refuse to heed this communique
I leave my car and I am awestruck
Never have I seen such beauty
Never
Each cloud was different
Each direction had a new wonder and beauty
Everywhere I looked was a new surprise
To the north there were light pink clouds
Each cloud looked as if there were brush marks
The clouds were layered
As if a brush was rolled rhythmically
Definition seemed to be added with slight purples and hints of blue
To the west
Where the clouds gave the opening to the sun
It looked like a curtain
That someone stuck their hands through to create an opening to look through
As if this master artist decided he needed a little more light
The clouds to the west
Look more like they were sculpted instead of drawn
They are all white
Different shades of white
But white just the same
The edges are rounded
The grooves are dark
As if to show depth
To the southeast
Are streaks of pastels
Obviously the artist had studied the many styles of the great masters
The clouds show slight greenish tones
A little red was used
It appeared as if it took decades to produce
When it actually appeared in mealy seconds
As hundreds of cars drive by
I realize that these people are missing this
I want to make them all stop
To see the work produced by this wonderful artist
But wait
Maybe this message is just for me
In the beginning of the day
My world was wrong
My life seemed to be getting worse by the day
all month long
At some point
My life had turned on a dime
And plummeted towards the sewer
Every time things would look up
I would fall into a deeper hole
But just when they seemed there worst
A master painter/sculptor made me see
This too shall pass
The Vessel
A bend in the road or a path not taken
An opportunity missed or a choice
A dictation of where our future lies
Or an ocean sky with only the stars to chart our direction
More to life than mortality
More possibility than probability
Restrictions on the self some say are chains on the free spirit
But they show the integrity of the vessel
A vessel that has a destination
Not designated by the wind
But by the captain
Like As Do When
Like the taste of a crisp wine
Like the feel of a satin pillow
Like the sound of an alto sax
Is the touch of my loves skin
As the fire at the heart of a flame, ever hot
As the winds of the fall monsoon, sometimes overwhelming
As the tides of the Mexican ocean, warm yet ever changing
Is the passion and the love of our awaited union
Do the trees wilt when sown upon unfavorable ground
Do the tides cease their drive when obstacles appear
Do the blades of grass stop their growth when repeatedly cut
Nor will my quest yield till I find my soul mate
When patience meets joy
When confidence meets destiny
When anticipation meets truth
When my life meets yours
Our life begins
The Revelation
The turmoil's of life seek to extinguish the passion that burns in my soul
I struggle to overcome these obstacles
So that I may find a peaceful yet passionate coexistence with this life
I look forward to the challenges yet proposed
I dream of great things to come
Yet fear unexpected twists
I curse past chances not taken and pray for new ones
I hope they will not be thrown aside to common spontaneous pleasures
Enjoyable for the moment
Yet mean nothing to the future nor drive any passion
They take no true thought
I grow neither spiritually or mentally
My search is no longer for incoherence
I seek happiness
Not for the moment
But forever
To do so I need extreme self-motivation
A new dedication that can propel me towards my new goal
I want to push myself beyond pleasures of the moment
To be able to help myself achieve the goals I search for
To once again pull myself from the mud my life seems to get stuck in
To finally enjoy a reality of beauty and wonder for life and nature
The Endless Battle
On a path of leaves I walk through the forest in the fall
Wandering in the valley of the sirens I listen for a songbird
Fighting an invisible dragon with blinders on
Searching for some weakness in its impenetrable armor
Ghasts laugh at my struggle as they plot for the next time we will meet
It will be tonight as
I dream
weary of the conscious battle
I sleep
It is then that the demons of my past will rise from their caskets
Buried deep within
Imprisoned by myself
Enshrined with crosses and chains
But there is no security from them
I awaken scarred from the unconscious battle
Searching for some reason for their reemergence
Some hidden meaning
Maybe a sign to show me the new direction
Or is it possibly a ball and chain attached to me by a mystic court
For crimes against the moral fiber that holds the "good" people together
The blood from past confrontations stains my soul
And taints the perception of myself
My scars are constant reminders of my past ventures
It is the pain that constantly encompasses me
For regret is the wound that never heals
The battle rages on
I beat them back into submission
Back into their caskets
Back into the blackness
The counter offensive is eminent
All I can do is prepare
Fix my armor
Bind my wounds
I do not know when they will return
I just wait
Sensing
My eyes are closed and I am alone
I feel you
My solitude is consuming at times
I know you feel me
The past haunts me and sometimes I can't think
Your presence brings me peace
My soul is a machine but it is silent
You are the small piece that the machine that can start it working
My future is bright but sits on the horizon
You are my compass
I know you’re out there
Meet me half way
Our life together is waiting
The cellar
Back home after a lovely evening of dining with friends
Wonderful conversation
And even possible plans for our forever
We laugh and kiss each other expressing ourselves as only we can
I stroke your hair and back till you fall gracefully to slumber
I thank God for our love and our evening
I fall asleep happy in bed
The billowed softness of my down comforter
One arm under my pillow the other around your waist
I feel warm....even perfect
The pleasantry of slumber is abruptly dashed
I am on a cold dark dank concrete floor....alone
No blanket, no comfort, no you
I call for you
But you do not answer
I hear familiar voices on the floor above
Their conversation is light and pleasant
I yell till my throat hurts
“You know me!” I yell
“Let me out”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I pound until my hands bleed
Punching the walls
Kicking with no affect
But they don't even break their conversation
What happened
Why do they not help me
What did I do
Where did you go
How did I get here
When will it end
A prisoner without reason
Persecuted for unknown crimes
As the minutes turn to hours
The hours into days
And the tears turn to stone
I get used to my new surroundings
I can see in the darkness
I get an understanding for the vermin I share this hobble
Given food on occasion
Something to sustain
But nothing to quench either hunger or thirst
I can live like this
No unexpected horror down here
Something comfortable about being on the bottom rung
If I fall again I won’t fall far
Over time I will get used to this hardship
Just as any other
The burden is only heavy until I get used to the weight
One day I hear an unexpected sound
The cellar door opens
I hear a warm familiar voice say
“Are you coming up, dinners ready”
I squint at the unaccustomed light
“Unless you want to stay down there”
“Coming” I say
“Go clean up before dinner”
Everyone one I know is there
People talk to me as if it was just another day and nothing had happened
But it had
I take a shower
The warm water seemingly fills my soul as well as my pours
I never thought a shower could feel so good
Some shampoo falls into my eye
So accustomed to pain the sting is almost pleasurable
“Maybe now I’m dreaming” I thought
Before dinner I find time to get some things together in a box
Books, paper, a small shovel
I take them to the cellar
Just in case
Dinner is phenomenal
Listening actual conversation is wonderful
While finishing dinner the front door opens
You walk in
My heart falls to my stomach
As those stone tears liquefy
I don’t know what to say to anyone
What if nothing really happened and it was all a bad hallucination
I don’t want to go back to the cellar
I don’t want to rock the boat
I test the waters
“What are our plans for this weekend” I say
“I thought we would go downtown, see a show and check out the museum”
you reply
“Both of us?”
“...of course, silly”
We retire to bed
I make love to you, seemingly for the first time in months
Tears stream down my face
You ask “what’s wrong?”
“I love you” I say “...and I never want us to be apart.”
“I love you too.” She said “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I can’t remember being better”
It is like we never skipped a beat
Everything is as it was I’m perfect again
I try to stay awake
But the comfort of the bed overcomes me
I awake shivering
I don’t open my eyes for I know where I am
Another cruel trick
How can they live with themselves playing with me like this
“If you must keep me here
I don’t want to know the other side
Leave me be!!!”
Now my slumbers dwell on that one short moment in time
That small second helping
The warmth you gave
The water that is leaking out of my soul as fast as it was filled
My eyes, even though familiar, take time to readjust to the darkness
I go through the yelling, beating, and crying ritual once again
It doesn’t take near as long to get the picture this time
My waking moments are spent digging
When not digging I try to write in the darkness
Promising my self never again
My digging takes away my anger
My writing stores and feeds my passion
The books show me that the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t always a train
Once my tunnel finds light I run
With my few minor possessions I run
Run for freedom
Run for life
Run for a new start
Away from so called friends
Away from family
Away from all that I knew
Leading my new life in solitude
On the third floor with no cellar
No one knows me so no one can hurt me
But now I imprison myself
I am the one locking myself in the attic instead of the cellar
Only feeding myself to sustain
Not to nourish
The thoughts of this being my life have surfaced again
I have to learn to care for my wounds so they heal properly
I retreat to my books and poetry shows my how
My own as well as others
That the ability to feel love is the gift from God
Love is the gift another person gives
That there is another person who could find worth in me
That I am lovable
And that I need to give the world a chance to do just that
Or I will be my own jailer and task master and torturer
Fantasy
My love for you will never end
It is as ageless as it is timeless
There is a destiny or fate if you will
That bonds our souls together
My love for you is like my soul
I can not physically touch it or see it or control it
But it encompasses my entire being
It makes me who I am
You are the lost piece that I've been searching for
The great things that happen to me
Are not great if you are not there to share them with
The great things that are going to happen to me
Will only be so if you are there
If not than it will be just another thing
Something that could have been better
The thought of smelling your hair
Starring at your face as you sleep
Gently stroking your soft back
Brings back feelings that I never thought would return
I wake up in the morning wondering if your up
I go to sleep wondering what your dreaming of
I dream of our future together
Waiting for you is the labor
When you come the world will fade
Show me the light
I wonder at the mysteries of my soul
How it feels what it feels
Why it recognizes certain familiarities
or things that can't be seen by the naked eye
Why am I so filled with joy at the prospect of talking to you
That's why I know when I find you
We'll be together forever
When I see my future there you are
It seems like there was no past that did not include you
When I wake from my dreams and see you in my arms my life will begin
When the time starts and my reality turns to our reality
Life becomes whole and our dreams become the light we see by
Just Another Day
The night air is brisk, the skies dark, the only illumination is the multitude of
stars and the seemingly bright moonlight. The sounds of the night almost rhythmic,
as if each insect and animal awaited its turn in the night time symphony.
In the distance, the horizon begins to glow as the stars begin to fade as if on
cue. Their time is done for now. Still, some of the more stubborn stars stick around
until forced to retire. The horizon begins to turn orangish-red as the dawn arrives.
A glowing disc on the horizon radiates and sparkles off the dew that covers
the grass. The dawn awakens a chorus of birds which begin singing as if
orchestrated by God itself. With the sunrise comes an array of colors that when
viewed intently, will awe struck the most hardened heart.
The sunrise brings a clear blue sky with streaks of white that the most
accomplished artist could not duplicate. These streaks stretch as far as the eye can
see. They seem endless, colliding with the horizon as if joined at some far off point.
As morning becomes mid-day, white billowing clouds appear like a slow
moving herd of animals, marching across the sky on parade. When the herd moves
into the sun lights path, a darkness blankets all around. The cloud is illuminated and
the anticipation of the warmth swells. Finally, like a blanket being slowly lifted, the
sunlight creeps back in.
The sun begins its slow retreat as the skies and clouds begin to shed their
bright whites and blues, for their pastel reds and purples. The longer you look, the
more you can see how truly beautiful it all really is. The suns retreat is complete,
night returns and the day is done.
The choices we make dictate the life we lead
Damned by sleep hallucinations
Sleep hallucinations that drive you to edges
Edges of cliffs that fall into previous realities
Realities that were created by some stranger
A stranger who lurks inside me somewhere
Somewhere I believe I had abolished
Abolished by my own desire for it to be gone
Gone but to a place deep within myself
Myself being the person I had created
Created with the choices I made
Made because of my own misunderstandings
Misunderstandings that allowed me to believe in what I was doing
Doing things unconscionable
Unconscionable because good people wouldn't make those choices
Those choices dictated the life I lead
Leading me to my sleep hallucinations
Pick-up Lines
Something new
Something strange
Something rare
A few words originated for the purpose
Some good
Some bad
A master for words could use this tool
But what master would he be
What gift used for such a purpose
What life is led
With that as your purpose
Life is bigger
The true art lies in confidence
Making yourself seem more than you are
By unconsciously showing ourselves fallaciously
We must re-pour the foundation already hardened
It is the pursuit of the moment
But misses the point
Passion is the food of the soul
But passion without love is merely a snack
Love without passion is starvation
Where is the achievement of the writer
Maybe like the professor
What you can not do
You teach
Compass Free
Floating on a tranquil sea
The hot sun beaming down
Pondering how it came to pass
That through such a wicked storm
You still master your vessel
You recall the days of your youth
Venturing onto the sea for the first time
Paying no head to the traditional routes
The water had challenged you
You answered
You charted your own course
Never heeding much to one charted for you
Pitching your sails you created your own destiny
Surviving everything the oceans could throw at you
Finding joy and beauty
Experiencing fear and hate
Anger for what the sea has taken from you
Appreciation for what it has given
Always driving into the waves
Never to be dictated as to where you could go
You stand stretch and look out towards the horizon
Looking back to see where you have been
Wondering how you have gotten as far as you did
You feel the breeze on your neck and you smile
Covering more of the sea than most
Venturing into unknown and at times unsafe waters
Your family and friends await you on land
As the port comes into view
Your heart swells for you now realize what you have accomplished
A Crippled View
A crippled view of a handicapped world
Fate and consequence is the ironic price we pay
For desires and hopes for happiness
Desires and hopes are distorted visions and hallucinations
But dedication to such a hallucination
Brings about a bliss immeasurable
No one will understand it because they are blinded by their own miserability
Dedication to such distorted visions is an addiction
The drug is love and its yearning will follow you through life
Once truly felt the desire for it never leaves
To give into and follow your addiction
Will alienate you from everyone you know
For it is completely consuming and the consumption is completely self gratifying
You’re in your own world of happiness and joy
Until you’re forced back to reality
Forced into a detox program that takes you out of your bliss
And into the status miserability
For like a bucket of crabs
The people at the bottom only survive
By pulling those at the top back down to the bottom
Allowing no one to succeed for long
Knock
Better person, Better man
Cyclical bleakness dulls the razors edge
Golden horizons, clear blue sky
Missed opportunities prevent greatness
Dark dreams, tattered conscious
Pain hurts but keeps us awake
To the ideas of what we refuse to be
To doze off momentarily will cause
Months of work to be for nothing
The Voyage
Viewing the voyage of my life
I fear my trips might be in vain
Watching the changes in the tides
Improving from whence I came
Watching people watch me sail
They're wondering of my ends
I'm looking to make great things happen
Sailing on the wind my spirit lends
One port fading out of sight
A new one coming into view
The horizon is getting closer now
My destination I wish I knew
I have navigated many seas
Paying consequences not much concern
Watching my brethren pay the price
For lessons they would not learn
Bad decisions plague my mind
My thoughts were so unclear
The fog has lifted from my soul
The voice of destiny I hear
I see my future as my own
In the past this was not so
The horizon hands itself to me
For I know now where I go
Oasis
Passions dwell in small puddles in remote oasis'
The droplets congregate to fill,
In there own individual essence,
Enough liquid to quench a soul forever
Drenching the dehydrated skin
that has wandered through a vast desert of longing
Some stumble on the oasis by accident
Some search forever never finding it
Some do not believe it exists at all
And some have drank
And awakened to find it only a mirage
The mirage is real enough to the beholder
Real enough to dedicate their life to wandering in a lonesome desert
Burning by day
Freezing by night
Vultures constantly circling awaiting the eventual fall
Forsaken by society
Or forsaking it for the dream
The thought that it might just be out there
Thought to be mad
Will drink not but from the puddle
Even if they die searching
They know they would always be miserable
Just thinking that it might have been over the next dune.
DO NOT QUIT
FIND YOUR OASIS
DRINK AGAIN
BE THIRSTY NO MORE
A woman of Substance
A woman of substance is someone who can intrigue me
She makes me think as well as question
For intelligence is very alluring
A woman of substance can carry on a conversation without dominating it
She wishes to receive information as well as express it
For knowledge is a gift only if taken
A woman of substance keeps fit mentally as well as physically
She sees her body and mind as extensions of herself
For these lead to a positive attitude
A woman of substance is nonjudgmental
She worries more about her own outlook than that of others
For change starts with ones self
A woman of substance is honest
She builds life through truth
For there is no foundation in dishonesty
A woman of substance is independent
She relies on no one for her persona
For life is lost if not known
A woman of substance is open minded
She remains confidant without being arrogant
for confidence allows room for compromise
A woman of substance is as passionate as she is hard to find
Perspective
Clouds engulf a clear blue sky
Its anger is seen as a sense of fear of what nature could produce
As you look in awe at the sheer power of the storm
You see a break in the fury the size of a pinhole
Through that pinhole in the ferocity of the storm you see a peaceful sky
I see that life is merely perception
When we are looking forward to the excitement of the unknown
Even if it gives us its worst
It is all just a commercial during a prime-time blue sky
The limits of the horizon are always calm and beautiful
Things can never be that bad for that long
So when life seems to be giving you its worst
Just look for that pinhole
Shadow Chasing
I will never walk alone
A light shining from behind tells me your there
I complain that you keep a piece of me and I miss it
But the piece I hold of you I could never live without
To wait or to grow
Believe or know
Wait and see or chase the shadow to your feet
Once at your feet I will enter your soul
And without taking what is rightfully mine
Or relinquishing what I believe to be mine
Our joy will once again be complete and my smile will return
Waiting
The wind blows ice cold
The flakes of snow
As big as quarters fill the air
Branches atop one of the trees rock
Back and forth with the fury of the wind
Clusters of leaves hold on with great intensity
The last reminisce of summer holding on with desperation
The snow blankets everything
Giving a beauty only achievable by nature
People scurry into action
Inspired by some instinct
Children build snowmen
Teenagers have snowball fights
Adults are out shoveling the driveway wondering what affect this will have on traffic
I suppose these instinctions give us a peek at our personalities
Children are carefree
Building their snowmen and waxing the rails of their sleds
All they see is the possibilities for fun
Looking at life as a game
Teen-agers see themselves as invincible
Running around with coats unbuttoned
Seeing the weather conditions as a challenge
One that must be met head on
Adults
Already stuck in their daily routine
Anguish over how this will affect their schedule
Meanwhile
I sit and stare
Trying to soak up its magnificence
Trying to burn this vision in my brain
So that I may access this memory at a later date
I wonder if there is a combination of all these types of people
An aggregate of the ideas
Some way of getting the realistic thoughts of the adult
The toned down version of invincibility from the teenager
And the fresh outlook of seeing the festivity of life from the children
I suppose there are some people who do
I wish I could find this non-extremist
Individualistic passionate tribe
People who see the beauty of life
Someone whose passion burns as bright as mine
An inextinguishable flame
Acting as a lighthouse
Sending a signal out into the ocean of people
Hoping a similar person or group will pick up on my beacon
To join me in my struggle to unify us
We move from difficult situation to difficult situation
We move from difficult situation to difficult situation
Changing our perspective to fit them
We can not keep switching who we are
We liked who we were
Not who we have become
We were confidant, secure
But lonely
Now we are self-conscious, downhearted
And still lonely
We have some great memories
Of some incredible moments
Shared in a very short time
Our loneliness leaves for the first time in years
We love that
And it makes us love them for taking it away
When it comes back
We have to readjust
We fight it as hard as we can
The fight will only hold us back
Make it harder
The hole deeper
The bar higher
Till no one can get over the walls we create
I dream of a new reality
I dream of a new reality
Where my life began
And where it shall end
Dreaming of what existed
Living what is real
For some reason I see what is real
But what I see is not others reality
What is real to me others do not see
I dream of a new day
A day of a more common reality
When a bigger picture is on the wall
When the little things are swept under the rug
For each it comes in different ways
We have different visions
So we need the assistance of focal lenses
Once our vision is clear
We do not understand how we got by so long
Missing out on so many of the beauties of life
I call it the finale
But yet the play continues
Silence
Silence is the song of the day
I scream it
Inside emptiness, I scream it
Ghosts shriek warnings
The walls tell stories of joy unsurpassed
When I look back I see the joy
The pain has dissolved
Withered by upcoming prospects
I recall the last days
The taste of her lingers on my tongue
The scent of her body fills the air
My soul feels her
I feel resistance
Possibly some transparent barrier
Is it to keep you from being hurt ...or
To keep you from feeling
Is it keeping me out or you in
Something so precious that it needs protected
but not isolated
Allow yourself to feel the joys that life has to offer
The pain subsides when you let the current drift it away
The longer you cling to your pain the farther from shore you get
Passion
The love of something with every ounce of your being
An unending quest for more of what you enjoy most
A feeling the effects your very soul
It drives you to destinations you never imagined you could go
It never ceases to amaze you
It's the intensity that makes life enjoyable
It's what dreams are made of
It ties your stomach in knots and warms your heart
It's what you look forward to and fondly remember
It's something you hold sacred and never take advantage of
It's something no one can take from you unless you willingly give it
It is something that once you have truly felt it you believe in God
Dreams can not compare to its reality
It is passion
It is what we live our lives for
It is the basis for all emotion
Lighthouse
A light in the darkness
An intermittent glimpse as to the destination
A vision of warning
A beacon of life
A view of hope
I am not alone
On a landless sea
On a lifeless leviathan
On a black filled night that the moon itself will not pierce
On an seemingly endless voyage
I see a light in the distance
Anxious yet weary
A light entrapped me on this ship
I have grown used to the solitude
But a companion would be nice
Anybody alone is a genius
But I want to be challenged
I will never find what I seek
If I refuse to look
I am just a passenger on this ghost ship
Being lead to where I want to be
I Have...
I have looked
Exploring for pieces of my destiny
We explore the limits of our vision
We are always watching
I have watched
Searching is not an easy way
We search for many reasons
We have seen many things
I have seen
Finding anything is an uncertainty
We find much that fills a need
But wonder at the needs left unfilled
I have wondered
Contemplating the void that is not filled
We contemplate silently
But listen intently
I have listened
Piecing together small bits is how we create
We piece together a melody
One that must be heard
I have heard
Longing for finality
We long to find the end of the song
A song of exploration
The Crustation
The Crustation is soft and vulnerable
On the inside
But holds it's shell
As protection
When it grows beyond it's limitations
It finds a larger compound with more room to seclude itself
When it is outside its shell
It is fully vulnerable
But what a world of feeling it must experience
When it is vulnerable
What a desolate life it leads
In between when it is hiding from that great moment
That it sees while moving to its next desolation point
Pain and suffering is a risk we take
While finding our compound
Is death so scary
That we need to hide with only moments of freedom to see
Maybe waiting for death in our shell
Is the true death of our soul
THE TRAIL
A man wanders into a park trying to find some solution
To his ever accumulating problems
His self loathing was leading him down an unpleasant path
Wandering through the park he finds himself on a trail
And on that trail he finds a tree
The tree had rooted itself over a rock
Gripping it much like a boy would a baseball
Though it looked like it was ready to fall over
The tree was strong and sturdy
Finding itself sown to a rocky terrain
It found a way to be fruitful
Though circumstances were not optimum
Though things were not the best way they could be
Even though other trees may have been given fertile soil
The tree grew strong and healthy
And probably has a stronger foundation then one sown to soft soil
But most importantly this tree showed a confused man
That his problems could actually be his strengths
And that these strengths had uses
And more over if life in any form can show perseverance
Over such seemingly huge obstacles
Than surely his problems comparatively were very insignificant
Quiet Lust
On a cold, quiet, star speckled night
It seems like I can see forever into the sky
It smells like winter
It smells crisp
A night when breathing is an effort
A deep breath causes a pleasurable pain
The air is some how fresher, cleaner, empowering
Pulling in the air I need for life
But my inhale is deliberate and hard
The brisk air pierces my lungs
And for a moment I don't breath
Then I exhale
Wander/Wonder
I wander and walk
I wonder and I run
I wander and I look
I wonder and I see
I wander and I listen
I wonder and I hear
When I walk I am open but aimless
When I run I am reaching for something
When I look I am observing
When I see I have found something
When I listen I hope
When I hear I grow
Wandering is observing
Wondering is a way to find
Wandering is based on filling emptiness
Wondering is based on searching
Wandering has no end
Wondering has no end
The Assassin
Wondering if it was a gift or a curse
An opportunity
Or a penance
I am still here and mobile and free
But what now
The street was black
The rain is much lighter now
At least I believe it to be
For their are pools of water in the ruts of the street
It is still early
Around 3:30 a.m.
The view is somehow distorted
Something does not seem real
But I watch as something begins to unfold
I don't know if it was a flash of light
Some sort of reflection that brought the person to my eye
But there was a figure
It was semi-concealed and for some reason did not notice me
Which was particularly odd
Being that I was in the middle of the street
At the far end of the street
A pair of headlights appear
It activates the hidden figure
I watch as the car awkwardly rambles down the street
The car pulls in front of a small house
Parks on the street
Striking the curb sharply while doing so
A man stumbles awkwardly out of his vehicle
Fumbling with his keys
Out of the darkness
Three flashes permeate the area where the hidden figure hid
The man from the car crumples to the ground
Falling limp as though any piece of life was turned off
Like a switch of light
The door to his car still open
The only noise I hear
Is the sound of the door ajar alarm
Paralyzed in fear
I gauche in horror
I recognize the victim
I watched
But now it seems the dark figure has noticed me
Nothing else stirred
The night is quiet once again
The dark figure moves close
I recognize him
Its me
As is the victim
The Marathon
I hate the marathon
I am out of breath and tired
But I still need to run
To complete the race
I continue to run never finding a finish line
Rationalization tells me I am staying in shape
My endurance grows
My muscles strengthen
But why am I running
Is it for my well being
Or am I being chased
Fear is chasing
So I chase myself
My subconscious keeps me running
Sometimes in circles like a crazed dog chasing his tail
Never getting anywhere
Just getting dizzy
My words like a python constrict
As long as I run
The snake can not catch me
I am a tree without roots
The longer I stay uprooted
The less chance I have for a future
The running must stop
I must halt the dog
Pet him gently
I must face the snake
Show no fear
I must allow my roots their chance to find soil
The Marathon is over
And I find that I am the only contestant
Whenever I would have stopped
I would have won
The Mouse
I am the mouse
Running the maze
Looking for the cheese
That is my goal
That is what I was taught to do
I run my course
Finding many dead ends
Much confusion
But still finding my way
Learning as I go
I find my way
Through the labyrinth
Through the tedium
Feeling accomplishment
Finality
I hate cheese
And when I get there
It’s pulled from my grasp
I get put back in my cage
Till the next maze calls
IT
I hear people talk of love
I see people drink till they believe in love
I know people who love their car
People who love the ocean
People who love the weekends
And people who think they can make love
But people just don't get IT
You can win the lottery
but you can't win IT
You can be a great actor
but you can't act IT
You can be the richest person in the world
but you can't buy IT
You can be the greatest hunter
and still might never see IT
IT is the most precious gift
and the darkest curse
If you pass IT by
you may never see IT again
Better to have lived without knowledge of IT
if you can call that living
than to have lost it forever
If you have the fortune to be a part of IT
Cherish IT
Nurture IT
But most of all hold onto IT and never let IT go
Millions walk by IT
too blinded to see IT
cursed to mediocrity forever
A man once said "better to have loved and lost..."
He never knew it
and should suffer having known IT
and lost it for eternity
Anticipation
I sit quiet
Hearing the sounds of nature around me
Waiting for a glimpse of the sun
The sun that has hidden from me for too long
Leaving my world in darkness
Today shall return
The moments I wait for it seem like hours
The anticipation is almost maddening
It’s been years but
I feel your touch
smell your scent
I have had visions our union for so long
Dreamed of how it would happen
Anticipated the moment
An anticipation that would be shared with someone
For whom I adore and cherish
It becomes a source of incredible energy
Our eyes meet and start the caressing long before a single touch has been felt
For our eyes capture the very essence of the moment as well as the anticipation of what is to come
Though it appears our eyes see only the physical without notice
They focus upon the entire being and peer into each others soul
I choose now for my passion and hunger to taste the fruits you so kindly offer
My eyes have seen into yours and sense your desire for to be touched
Your desire and yearning to be fondled by my eyes
My lips
My softness
My hunger
My desire
My passion
As your eyes beg for my tenderness
Your lips tremble for my affection
You see my eyes focus steadily upon your lips
I move quietly to within a breath of you and your tenderness
A scent so strong and powerful
I need beckon for my strength and endurance
Our eyes can no longer gaze into each others
We come together
Welcoming each others breath as our own
Noses are barely touching as we close our eyes and inhale the intoxication that has infiltrated our souls
I feel your breath and my lips swell with anticipation
That breath has given us our direction as we ever so slightly graze our lips together
Almost unexpectedly
The graze of your lip startles me
I feel vulnerable in your strong and beguiling presence
In small delicate grazes
Our lips have found each other
Pouty and swollen with hunger
Our tongues are introduced
Squeamish at first but the slight moan of pleasure that escapes eases the curious tension
Shy but ready to pounce
The hunger grows
Our lips lingering about exploring every corner
Delicate and succulent
Our lips move and tickle
First slow and very purposeful
They learn their boundaries
Taking turns we massage one another’s lips with sucks and pulls
Then with ease and grace they harden as our energy begins its release
I have noticed my lips are no longer dry with nervous excitement
But wet with the moisture you have shared
My hands framing your face as if to center your suppleness for my own consumption
My palms and fingertips are gentle as though holding a fragile flower
As if the flower was being nourished by our passion and tenderness
You begin to bloom
Parting your mouth awaiting my exploration
My hands interlace the hair on the back of your head
firm yet sensual squeezes give way to moans of pleasure
It was with your tongue delving into my willing mouth that I too began seeking out your passion and all you had to offer
We both hunger for the sensations of feeling
The inflexibility of our warmth within
The smoothness of our teeth and the rigidity
yet softness felt simultaneously in our tongues
Breathing heavy and gasping for our next breath is of little concern
Our energy has just exploded during our lustful exchange
My mind is being flooded with sensations
The tenderness and raw passion felt together is overwhelming
Yet I still want more
Much more in fact
Because although my lips are bruised and burning
It is not just my lips that are ablaze and craving more
This is you
This is what you do to me
These are my dreams and desires
This is what I have thought about in the darkness all these years waiting on the sun
This is why the moments seem like hours
Now I see you
The warmth that flows over my body
Is like air into my soul
And purpose into my like
You’re more beautiful than I ever could have remembered
The Moon
I see the moon
So far
Yet so wonderful
I see the stars and the beauty they portray
I admire them from a far
I can't live without their marvel and wonder
Maybe their wonder is their attraction
Maybe because I can't see them as they are
Only see them so far away
Is the attraction
Their fire burning so hot
They can be seen worlds away
Their reflection of light
A mirror of an intensity
So miraculous that it inspires life
So I sit and watch the wonders of the universe
I sit and write of their beauty
A wonderment that all get to see
That I may never possess
But I could look at forever
And will
Forever
On this day
On this day
I drive
But it is no ordinary day
For on this day I have seen the most beautiful site
I have breathed the freshest air
And have tasted the sweetest nectar
On this day I felt a presence I have not felt before
On this day I found you
On this day
I smile
But it is unlike any smile I have created before
For on this day it won’t go away
I have been touch in my soul
And it has released me from an unknown cell
On this day I have been freed
On this day you found me
On this day
I swoon
But I have never been so taken
For on this day I guard not myself but you
I have taken a precious fragile flower
And planted it in the garden of my soul
On this day I tend to your heart
On this day we are one
The scene
I look back on our day
As if perched on a balcony over looking a scene of a play
I have my notes and I know how the story goes
But I look at the players with amazement
I know the script but the way they portray their roles is so new
I know where the next scene is but I can’t wait to get there
I know he gets the girl and saves the day
But I want to feel them get it
I want this scene to last forever
I want to be able to rewind it and feel it again
And again
And again
But I don’t want to miss the next scene for he sees her again
He has been counting the hours
Passing the moments of the mundane parts of his life that he used to think was so exciting
All the while dreaming of their next encounter
Suddenly he is on his way to meet with her again
I know what’s going to happen so why am I so excited
JUST GET THERE DAMN IT
Easy big guy
The anticipation is part of the fun
What will happen this time
I hope he goes back tomorrow
We will have to wait till the next scene
What I refuse to be
Better person
Better Man
Cyclical bleakness dulls the razors edge
Golden horizons
Clear blue sky
Missed opportunities postpone greatness
Dark dreams
Tattered conscious
Pain hurts
But it keeps me awake to the ideas of what I refuse to be
Sleeping dogs
Seeing thoughts of yesterday
Looking for something worth dying for
Dying for something worth living for
I hunted for love
I have searched for passion
I have longed for a dream
I have seen things so beautiful
That it makes my poetry seem bland
But it is a fogging memory
I taste something slightly similar
It brings back flashes of a past reality
Some things sleep but never leave
Some things will not sleep forever
Sleep is temporary
Some sleeping dogs need to be awaken
The Leaf
There was a poem by E. E. Cummings that tells a story of a leaf.
A leaf that falls from its perches
Falls alone
Falls silent
Falls seemingly forever
Awaiting its bottom
Awaiting its destiny
Awaiting its end
Yet at times the wind catches it
May at times hold it
Hold it stagnate
Hold it twisting
Hold it without knowing its final destination
The leaf knows where it is supposed to be
Supposed to go
Supposed end
This leaf seems lost
All it wants is to be a leaf
All it wants is to fulfill its destiny
All it wants is to know its end
All it wants is to know it was a Leaf
A Man
There are many things that establish a man
Integrity
Reason
Principle
We need to see ourselves
We are who we are
We are a populace
White Black red brown or yellow
We are people
We are Men
We are Women
We are People
Those who say we or they are less
Will and are dying off
We need to be better
For now
For the Future
The wonder of you
I have enjoyed the beauty of the ocean at sunset
I have seen wondrous things in the sky that no one else could see
I have enjoyed the Rainbow formed from the mist of great waterfalls
I have heard the wind whistle through the trees to a tune that was unforgettable
I have enjoyed the smile of child’s unconditional love
I have felt the power of a storm by merely smelling the air
But I have never been magnetically drawn to a person the way that I am drawn to you
I wonder at the stars
I search the outer reaches of the mind
I trek for understanding
I seek passions that exist only in fairy tales
I yearn for a perfect life
All these things are intangible
But the one thing I have found is intrigue in a woman
I have collapsed into you
Like a marathon runner at the finish line
I feel disoriented
Drunk on endorphins
I thump my chest to show all what I have accomplished
Yet this is only the beginning
The beginning of something so extraordinary
Mere words are as worthless as a thought never expressed
I am excited about what has begun
But this is a thing that will create its own mass
A ripple that could very well
Develop into a tidal wave
A wave that will encompass the two of us
One that will wipe clean all areas of doubt depression and despair
Thank you
For you have come to me as I was alone on an island
The rescue craft I believed did not exist
I have lived on the bare minimums
Cursing the times and opportunities wasted
But as you come closer
The emotions well up in my body
As I remember what hope feels like once more
A life alone is and can be a life
But not the life I am looking for
I have tried it
And it is not for me
I see your face and my world changes
My paradigm shifts
And my life is better
The smile that forms on my face I can’t remove
Even if I would want it to
Your beauty shocks me like cold water in the morning
I am a man who wandered the desert
But now I am camped in an oasis
There is no world except for the water and the palm trees that surround me
For there is no joy greater than when I see you
I can stare at you speechless for hours
I know of all the peacocks in the fields flashing their tails
What exactly drew your eye to mine is a mystery
But whatever my tail was doing I need to make sure it keeps doing it
For the cocks are in the pen and they want the prize hen
I might not be the biggest or boldest but I have a the gift of passion
I feel something unlike I have felt in the past
The thoughts of you pour so quickly from mind to paper
Much like drinking from a fire hose
You get what you can but come back to fully gather
You say hello to me
I just melt away
You smile at me
And my soul smiles back
You look at me
And I lose myself in your eyes
You touch me
And my body becomes warm
You speak to me
And the rest of the world is silent
You kiss me
And my soul weeps with joy
Staring into your eyes
Stroking your thigh
Seeing you smile
This was truly awe-inspiring
The smile I could not peel from my face
The image of you burned into my mind
The memory of feeling your touch
Brings chills to my spine and bumps to my neck
How wonderful our time together is I cannot explain
We sit and talk
Laugh and share
Every story is a new doorway
A doorway letting you know who I am
A doorway letting me know who you are
Doorways leading to a beautiful room
A room immense in proportion
A room where we will find who we are
I cannot wait to see you again
Frustration
I ran fast once
Without reason or cause
I fought against a demon I didn’t even know existed
Just to please people who didn’t matter
Now when I run with cause
I am slow
Now when I fight
The people are the demons
I loved once
With a passion that was unexplainable
I wrote once
Just to explain my existence
Now I question the love at its core
For what is here is passionless
I write now
Just for therapy for my quest
Passion is not sex
But sex can be passionate
Love is not lost
But seemingly forgotten
I am tired
But so awake
I thirst
But am flooded
I am the catch
But yet the fisherman
I am the hunter
But obviously the prey
Today I was Angry
Today I was angry
The first time since I was scared
I was angry
The day I wanted to die
I was scared
Today I was angry
Today I was angry
The first time in years
I was angry
The day I questioned my faith I was scared
Today I was angry
Today I was angry
In days gone by I was thus
I was angry
In days since I have been in control
Today I was angry
Today I was angry
I am better than this…but
I was angry
I can’t swallow it…because
Today I was angry
Today I was angry
Deny or deal with the fact that
I was angry
Even though this is new to me again
Today I am angry
Today I am angry
I have denied this feeling even though
I was angry
I used to hurt people…so
Today I am angry
Today I am angry
But I love who I have become…but
I was angry
I will be an extraordinary person…even though
Today I was angry
The Delivery
A knock at the door
A past that I have denied is on the other side
To drop off a package
They leave it
But I am afraid to take it
The package is a soul
A gift
But not one I can accept
All too beautiful
But a moment and its gone
Given in a point in time
With desire and trust
A gift with no strings
Nothing to tie me
But a noose to execute my beliefs
What about my needs
Or desires
Can I sacrifice the passion
For the Desire
Can I accept the lust over the love
I see so many who settle
Who get what they can
But never get what they want
Always a story of what they meant to do
Never a story of what they did
We seek to be what we thought we needed to be
But look past what we wanted to be
And become what we feel we must
But forget what we defined ourselves by
To become the one who regrets missing it
Love
What happened to it
Passion
Where did it go
We spend too much effort to be ordinary
And to feel a part of anything
The Past
No more clearer a painting as the past
But none more distorted
A diary written with a hint of ambition
A letter of fiction which I hold as truth
Whore to my own memories
Re Keying what should be important
Never the clear picture
For my protection
Or my torture
My email is imeism@hotmail.com feel free to contact me
My Favorite Links
Angelfire - Easiest Free Home Pages
Williams Holler
Daniel Quinn's Homepage
Mirror (poetry)
Imeism forum
Email: imeism@hotmail.com
