Tag: individuality

Backwards and Late

I should be sleeping but I am beyond wide awake right now.

Tomorrow I will once again feel the dreary and the drudge of the day, but that is still a very long few hours away.

It take me until bedtime to wake up, to get the gist of the day, to get in the swing of the hang.

I spend the day in a haze, steering through the fog of the motions, until it is finally time to call it quits.  When I can give my mind peace and solitude, it start the race it pumps the gas, it competes against the unseen assailants of the nights, like a ninja in the darkness the brain races to a start line, the end nowhere in sight.

Some day I will catch on to the rhythm of the living. For now, I follow the drums of the night.

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My Ironic Soul

Dreaming of destruction and pondering chaos

I wrestle with keeping it calm.

Desiring the heat of flame and pursuing the dark fumes

I am a diamond cut snow flake.

There is no peace in the heart,

There is no soft to the touch.

Without you, I am everything.

In the barren winter I find inspiration,

In the vast white ordinary I find my color

In the silent night I hear jazz.

In confusion I draw straight lines

In serenity I create a kingdom of noise.

My comfort is not in the sun, my song is not with the wind.

I dance in the stillness.

My beauty is dark like a moonless night.

My charm is in the blizzard.

My complexity is the simplicity of words.

Diamond Eyes and the Expressive Hands

They say that the eyes are the window to the soul.  A diamond lens, eyes are each beautiful, mysterious, captivating, and lustrous. The world around is perceived and filtered through this kaleidoscope pattern, giving each person a unique point of view, interpretation of the situation, a foundation on which to form theories.

I, however, leave the sentimentality of the ascetic of the eye at a gesture.  The lens of the eye acts as a concept, it filters the world, it’s a perception.  It’s a very romantic implication, a poetic deduction of the individuality and beauty of that aperture to one’s mind.  The beauty of the eye is too abstract to be the window to the soul.  Soul is found in physical expression and how we impact our surrounding reality.  Its more tangible then that special sparkle in one’s eye.

I think that the hands are the window to the soul.  Everything that I think, all my ideas, intentions, inspirations, and influences are expressed through my hands.  The eyes can only look.  They are merely a lens.  Hands, however, turn the abstract into the physical, they turn thoughts into creations, they turn ideas into a usable product.  My hand create food, my hands create writing, my hands create art, my hands create love.

Your hands can change the world, and your diamond eyes can inspire it.

Ruby in the Rough



I am a ruby in the rough

A deep glitter amongst dull light grey concrete pathways

Straight lines leading down or out, up or in, sidewalks and roads

They lead to some specific destination

I sparkle sideways, my step is diagonal

I shine darkly, my twinkle is more of a complex luster

Gems have no destination, there purpose is singular

To bring peace with a simple innate beauty

To contrast the sharp stones with a kaleidoscope light

As rare as a ruby, subtly I sparkle against typical patterns

How red radiance deepens the light, quietly I drum my hum.

A Poem for Mum

I love my mum-

she is the only one

with so much heart,

and so much spunk,

to lift a flat note soul

out of baritone blues

into a sharp chord heart

like a falsetto chime in early spring.

Her energetic eyes

spray ultra-violet light

of compassion that melts

the midnight shadow snow.