Wednesday, September 12, 2012

There is a time...




picture credit:  http://nighty.deviantart.com/art/The-Dance-34020852



Yeah, so there are things you’re good at
and things you love to do.
Maybe you’re good at it because you love it,
or is it the other way round, I wonder,
but I digress…
Life, however, has this annoying little habit
of interfering with our ability to do them.
Time seems elusive,
disappearing like a leaf in the gusty autumn wind,
gone without a trace in an instant.
Or is it the energy levels that dip
as you get lost wandering through the empty rooms at home,
staring out of windows, all the while waiting,
praying, for that voice in your head to come up with
a million and 1 other things that need doing.
Need? Really?
Do you really need to snip those flowers? Dust those annoying ornaments?
Fill every waking moment with an activity recognized by the world at large
as something considered to be constructive?
Or should you rather just sit down, stretch out your legs
in the warm afternoon sun, in that quiet corner specifically designed
to relax in and read a book, but never have,
or maybe daydream,
daydream until the sun is but a faint memory,
in a time where the owls swoop soundlessly through the air,
where even the wind has blown itself to sleep
and your mind is refreshed and relaxed
enough to see past the obstacles created by the chaos of everyday.
‘Cause when you can reach that place,
everything is possible,
dreams are real,
and choosing to act is the only, possible answer,
even fear doesn’t feel so bad at all,
in fact, it doesn’t scare anymore,
but fills you with courage and excitement instead,
and you stand up from this daydream
to do, to live, to just experience that which you love,
which you’re good at,
and smile…
because time, too, denies every thief its victory,
and under the light of the passing moon
your dreams become real once more.






Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Adrift




picture credit:  http://psivamp.deviantart.com/art/Float-On-45845892 




With a murmuring breath, the edge becomes smooth,
the ledge not as high, much wider than you thought,
your feet become still, your trembling hands rest,
your eyes see new things that have been there before.
Your mind starts to drift on a raft in a sea,
smooth as those edges, a sigh of release…




Friday, September 7, 2012

The place in my mind



picture credit: http://furiousxr.deviantart.com/art/Overcast-Perth-83938729






There’s a place in my mind
with silvery skies,
where pine trees whisper
with the breath of the breeze,
that brings ‘bout a stillness
to the infinite noise
that’s ruling, that I can’t control.

And it’s here I retreat,
where I shut out the noise,
ere the darkness too deep,
creeps too far in my soul,
and smothers my breath,
to the poison that swells
to a plane of hopeless despair.



Friday, March 9, 2012

5.15





picture credit:  http://brokenchar.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d4ohggf  


5.15, an early dusk settles on this day
and a veil of silence descends like a comforting mist
that feeds the stillness, desperate to emerge
from the depth of your being,
warm as a lovers arms,
consoling and soothing away the strain
that has bound you, confined you
and curbed the vision
of inspiration
for too long now...



Friday, February 17, 2012

Lost

Picture credit:
http://browse.deviantart.com/?q=cold%20air&order=9&offset=48#/d2fhvbb


 
Lost. The joy...
...left a chill in that damp alleyway;
a flood of cold air through your soul.
 



Saturday, February 11, 2012

The beauty of the night



picture credit: gavin dowd 




Wrapped in ice like frozen wishes,
dormant in the blinding  white,
‘round the limbs of waiting jounces,
spring is striving to ignite.
...yet grey the cloud and moist the air,
with sullen mood that broods despair,
‘joy the beauty of this night
ere starry skies your soul delight.





Friday, December 23, 2011

When the music died









When the music died,
mist rose from the ground
like rolling waves of silence,
engulfing sight and sound
in its thick white shroud,
and tears of sorrow
clung to lashes
in silent reflection,
before surrendering
to a final echo.




Friday, December 2, 2011

Hide for another day







The mood turned to brown
in the hot midday sun
as the stifling air withered words,
struggling to make their way
from the cool depths
of the lakes of suppressed emotion.
 And the chirruping crickets
run riot with thoughts,
disassembling them as they form,
watch as they dissipate
in the turmoil,
lost, ere they ever began.
 In futile surrender
you shut your eyes,
let the hot wind blow silence through,
your world that is dim,
that slowly recedes
and you hide for another day.