winter

Bitter cold, i bite my tongue.

 your punishment is my silence. 

i will not drop my head any longer. 

you can not and will not hold me under.

 who has really lost i wonder? 

what has come from all your thunder?

i see you, unveiled by your fury. 

standing naked like a child before me.

 stamping your feet, dig your heels into the ground. 

you watch the world through your own reflection 

a victim of your own distortions.

the pain of knowing

i wonder.....

           if you were to be deaf. would you rather be born deaf. living a life content with the silence. or would it be better to loose your hearing, so in your silence you can dwell in the memories of sound.

          if you were to be blind would you rather be born blind. living a life content with the darkness. or would you prefer to loose your sight, so in your darkness you can watch the slide show from your past.

          if you were to be dumb, would you rather be born dumb, unaware of your simplicity. or would you rather loose your mind with age, so in your simplicity you can smile with satisfaction.  

          if you were to loose something, wouldn't you rather you never had it in the first place? be unaware of what you have lost. because wont the memories just be tainted by the fact that it was lost. and the tainted memories will grow into resent. with resentment all beauty is lost. with resentment all truth is lost. 

   

if we do not have beauty and truth, is it really worth it? 

 

Comardes

• silently seated
• side by side
• perfectly content
• mountain and sky 
• 
  
• a friendship unparalleled.

tip toe down the valley, sit on upon the edge, watch the morning stretch and yawn, and the sun roll out of bed. 

Day versus Night

• We are soliders. 
• You and I.
• Men of war. 
• We fight again.
• together in harmony.
• we defend life.
• forever in battle.
• we find peace.
• the enternal dance
• Moon and Sun

sense & sensibility - resting seeds

hold your ear to the ground, and you will hear the sound of a thousand seedlings softly breathing and dreaming in a collective sleep

sense & sensibility - the sea and the sand

hold a shell to your ear, and you will hear the sound of a thousand grains of sand dancing a slow foxtrot to the rhythm of the tide.......

sense & sensibility - the wind

youth and wisdom sat together, 

on the top of a hill, 

"tell me youth, what do you feel when you catch the wind in your hand?" asked wisdom

the youth leant forward, and clasps his hands around the wind

 "Nothing! I feel nothing"

"and tell me youth, what can you hear when you hold the wind in your hand"

and the youth leant forward held the wind up to his ear

 "Nothing! i hear nothing"

"and tell me youth, what do you see when you hold the wind in your hand"

and the youth leant forward and peered at the wind in his hands

 "Nothing! i see nothing"

"yes my son, nothing. without freedom, the wind no longer exists. 

sense & sensibility

flowers don't last

Better to invest in trees.

singing songs of sixpence

a pocket full of rye

everything will be ok

with a raven by your side

"Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library." 

Kafka on the Shore - Haruki Murakami

to sleep, perchance to dream

so tired, 

i crave the depth of a dreamless sleep. 

but i resist.

too tormented by the truths it keeps and terrified by the version of me ill meet there.  

the self confrontation i don't need to repeat. 

 i pray for insomnia.

i used to seek asylum in my dreams, but they exposed me to my elements, and now i am weathering from the inside. 

a refugee from my own mind. 

i pray for a coma.

so tired, 

i crave the comfort of a seamless sleep.

 but i resist. 

too exhausted to hide the proofs it keeps  and scared of the sanity i might meet there
the version of reality i dont need to repeat.