Without Order, Recommended Lanes, and Death ((W.O.R.L.D.))

Stymied growth holds us locked
In a parody of truth,
Confined, this growth,
Gets larger and larger,
Eating itself from within...
At least until implosion day.

Without the work of fattened hornets,
What would we be?
If not for technology,
And money and greed
What would we be?
Proud?

They have more pride than ever before,
and for it,
We fall,
Oh we fall.
And in this day,
 Fairy tails sting,
And our poppet wings are clipped.

Found under thumb,
Wrung of life,
Dreams,
Wight,
And our old ken,
Our own ken,
Is removed from our kin,
And in place is memorization.

Without that order,
Without the lines,
Designs,
And rinds of fat,
What would we be...
Except for free?

***

Cars travel in forgotten rows,
Without the driver,
Without a soul,
On to work,
And back to home,
No freedom left to know.

When all are dead,
When all are gone,
And all the books are ash and dust,
What are things meant to be?

The rules are there,
They're meant to protect.
They're meant to provide,
To keep the rest,
But when life falls,
And souls don't keep,
Except the rage;
Accept the peace,
Of structured lines
Paralyzed in routine.

For the lanes are recommended,
For the control it gives,
(And takes away),
Give not to life,
Give not to live,
Take peace in routine,
And if there is none left...

Take it all,
And rend.
For while they are stuck in recommended lanes,
You are free to live.
In the end,
You are free to live.

***

Sleeping throughout ages,
Without a dollar,
Denari,
Or dime,
Eons and eternity,
Go by.

Sleep is wonderful.
Sheep sleep,
Wolves sleep,
Even greedy foxes sleep.
Treacherous snakes sleep,
And Sharks sleep,
Though they constantly move.
Everything Sleeps.
And so everything dies.

Games carry on for the longest time,
Books have epilogues.
Even movies,
Though the caricatures may not rest,
It ends.

It is the saddest thing to be without,
To be lying in a gutter waiting.
And it is with all,
Even life,
Does not continue.

An ending is brief,
Bittersweet,
And mostly painful,
But beautiful.

To be without an ending is a cruel thing.
It is harsh,
Hateful.
And full of spite.
To be ageless is the paramount of ugliness,
Even beyond a character without that age.

An ending,
That we grow closer to,
Makes us beautiful.
To be beautiful in age,
Even not if in youth,
Is a gift.
As is that ending.
But unlike a gift,
It can never be taken away.

***

The young man walks upon a crowded road.
Coming upon a building,
He whisks away from stress,
Breaking out the bottle,
Breaking out of pain.

He sits upon a couch,
Or a chair,
Or a seat,
Remember old days,
Remember old things.

Eventually he's a caterpillar,
From the hummingbird that played,
And the curious cat,
He lay upon the bed,
Smiled,
And sang.

"Without Sleep,
Lines would stray.
Without time,
How long would be the day?

In a line,
As long as night is gay,
Even I at my weakest,
Can be happy and play."


ISA
 

Stolen Colors ((Abscen Chroma))

A golden bird,
With azure eyes,
A dusky tail,
Looks upon the emerald plains,
Never singing,
Never stopping,
Not even for the food or pain.

The sun goes down,
The sky lights bright,
And the burdened towns,
Come up for night.

The shadowed and the stars,
Ridden with black,
Burdened with blue,
Shine on the bird,
Shine on us too,
And for the night,
The bird stays golden,
Till the sun rises,
Till a new burden,
Rests on our shoulders.

When the sun rises,
As the bird carries on,
Everything fades,
Broken,
Forgotten,
Except for the bird,
Who waits for the night,
And while grayest can be,
While darkest at light;
She will take back her colors,
Leave him in the day,
Because while she knows the night,
And he is the gray,
They both share the color,
And the color never stays.

ISA


 

Wonder When

Time flows like a river,
Down streams,
Carrying men,
Carrying dreams,
Building Civilization.

These men it carries;
Prideful folk;
Use time,
Use the ocean,
But for simple drops,
In a puddle,
Muddle,
Muddling ground and rock,
Into silt and mud.

These men shaped nations,
Wrote books,
Won prizes,
And were respected by all but their society.
They wondered in their when,
And were masters of blood and bone,
Iron and Stone.
If not for what drove them up,
They'd have never reached the heights,
That drug them low.

***

I thought upon the lessons,
I thought upon the reasons.
I wondered when,
What might have been,
Became what I saw two steps in front of me.

It baited me,
As time took my steps back.
It baited me,
As I got better and better.
It baited me and I was foolish as to run.

Only with my two feet on the ground,
Only cloaked in shadows,
Only when I cannot fly,
Is fame presented to me.
And in despair do I fall.

Only when what might have been,
Only when what was,
Only when I wonder when,
Only when I fall,
Can I see gold and virtue.

Calling me, I fall.


ISA

 

A Writer's Ode to Writers.

Turns out that following the endless road,
Was not for me or mine sensibilities.
Twirling in madness and divinity,
I forsook the sun,
And took the path-
"Forget it, I'm done."

 

...The writer hath no bounds,

No limits,
For what he can write,
Or she can admit.
They weave worlds,
Sing magic,
And breathe life into all parts,
And places played,
Beyond what is.

 

***

 

As walkers wade,

Through endless tides,
The chains may drag me down,
And the winds may guide my spirit around,
Constantly losing the way,
But the storm I am,
Will never sink under,
Too guided by rage,
Too sad to be ripped asunder.

 

***

 

Bleed the sun,

Torture its light,
Never going down without a fight.
Explode in form,
Bring beauty to ear,
Eye,
And Fear
What would never be,
What we bring into being,
Whole worlds,
Gods of misery,
Aku, dear,
Do not worship a Sun,
But the shadow it brings,
And the one you cast on the world.

Search And Deify, Notwithstanding Ebs, Simplifying Sight (And the human who watched it all...) ((S.A.D.N.E.S.S.) )

As the bird,
Sought a soul of sadness,
It left the confines of its mind.
It turned the world,
Upside down,
And destroyed all who came near.

She upturned her nest,
Broke her eggs,
And bit into the blood of her mate.
She killed her prey,
The hunters,
And the unspoken,
Searching for what she'd find.

She finally found that god.
The one who'd protect her.
Keep her safe from harm.
She found him in her clarity.
In a way you'd be unlikely to find,
That Soul,
That Sadness,
She ate them and deified.

***

The crab,
Lax on the shore,
Looked forward,
Seeing the horizon.

When he was hungry,
He would hunt.
When he was tired,
He would sleep.
But it rarely mattered that he could never look up.

One day,
Tired,
Sitting on the shore,
He sees the sunset, rising as a friend.
It mattered all the more.
And he shifted about.

The sea whispered to him,
Told him of its gifts.
What they'd do for him.
What they saw,
And wished,
And wondered.
It offered its hand...and he took it.

He could finally look up,
He saw the beauty of the sunset,
The bright, warm colors that faded to night.
He saw the drifting clouds,
The winding waves,
And the great moon...
And as he looked up,
He saw the sky cut in half and he despaired.

***

The wolf shrouds himself in the forest,
He had hunted for days,
Tracking this one meal,
Never stopping, never waiting.

He was finally in luck,
And the doe dropped dead.
He never looked down on a free meal,
Or questioned it.

He was just about to jump out and eat it,
When a hulking monstrosity rose from the forest,
It picked up the animal dragging it behind him,
As its deformed arm rose slightly upon its neck.

The beast's back was turned,
No shell,
No claws,
No teeth.

The wolf jumped,
And the man turned around,
Lifted his arm,
And did something...

***

I looked at the three creatures whose lifetimes passed them,
I wrote their struggles,
And I left word of their history,
Their actions...
Their results...

I turned and remember the days,
The days gone by,
Where I would attempt to play,
And be chastised.

I dreamed of days better than the now,
Where and when I wouldn't be alone,
Drifting upon clouds,
And flying in ask.

Where the clarity didn't hurt,
Where I wouldn't sense the pain,
Where dreams and reality didn't bleed together,
Where I could find hope and not disdain.

I dreamed of romance,
I dreamed of FICTION.
I dreamed of happiness and hope,
where everything turns out alright.
I dreamed of better days,
Of nonsense random and full of cheer...

And when I woke,
Looked at the world,
And saw the same things,
I despaired....


ISA

Run Under Nothing ((R.U.N.))

Inside a careless dream,
Just the person and the strait.
Bring hope, peace, jumping bream.

The skies turn blood red.
Music plays,
And the cloud bring rain.

The person runs through,
Ever onward,
Ever on through day.

Night falls and the thicket grows,
Grows upwards,
Growing taller, blocks the road.

No choice,
Can't turn back.
"Go up."

Go climbing.
Use the weeds.
Leave that sea.

Go and flee the world,
Use it's sins to lift you up,
Run and fulfill, hope.

***

Sadness life brings,
Anger and hate,
Aspire to hope.

Aspire to win,
Sing a victory march,
And your road will never grow dark.



ISA


(Full Poem is written in various haiku marks per stanza.)