Within Reach Now

The word with no equal,
Can often be the most difficult to reach.
Clasping at a time when you can look into the other's eyes, and say it meaningfully, is
Like hacking through the jungle, breaking through the bullshit
To reach the haven at the destination.
Worth it? Always.

Often though, the arguments feel like they're gonna be the death of it.
Not today, not tomorrow, but one day.
Like the jungle is gonna grow faster than you can tear it down, swallow you,
And drop you at the bottom of some pit which you can't escape from.
You'd claw at the sides and go slowly mad, kept company only by yourself, screaming at you
'Where you went wrong'. And the destination - is far-off, impossible now to reach.

Or, is it like a bonfire?
Not quite ready until it's set alight. With heat, with rage, and passion, and collisions.
Until the word is ignited by differences?
Well flames are certainly pretty, warm, and make you feel happy for a while.
But they're dangerous, they hurt...
They burn out fast too.

And if you set light to the jungle?
Try to fix one-another and make it a clear path to the end;
Try to argue your way through the forest, to reach your goal at the end.
Thinking it can be repaired by saying 'I...You'.
You never reach your true destination, because it's burnt with the rest of it.
A charred remainder of the elegance it once was

So, light the fire-pit, or tear and burn the jungle?
No, deal with each day, learn to live with the jungle, rather than tear it down
And look forward to the rewards at the end.
Look forward to the reward of gazing into their eyes,
And hearing your heart scream, and your mind nod, and your tongue say

'I Love You'.

It Lkoos Crrecot

'So... how does it feel to be a character in a dream?'

It certainly feels 'real'.
I feel the keys under my fingers, feel them react against my force with each tap;
Does that make them existent?
I can smell the breeze from outside, the start of summer creeping into the room;
I hope that's 'real'.
I can see the trees outside, mostly swaying in unison. But sometimes they stop -
Am I sure that's real?
Love must be real;
It interrupts your thought, takes over your consciousness and diverts you from everything else.
How could that not be real?
Thanks for the 5 senses, they certainly seem to work well.

"Just resting my eyes..."

It certainly feels 'real'.
I feel the dream-catchers and low-hanging ancient antiques brushing past me as I walk;
Does that make them existent?
I can smell the stench of death creeping towards me, it's distinctive;
I hope that's not real.
I can see the hooded figure opening the door for me. The bodies falling in the corridor before me.
That must be real, why would I imagine that?
Pain must be real;
It interrupts your thought, takes over your consciousness and diverts you from everything else
How could that not be real?

Thanks for the 5 senses - still missing the one that counts though.

Because I know I'm dreaming.

If I push on this wall, will it collapse;
Like some cheap scenery card-trick?
Or is it a little stronger than that;
Is it the most magnificent card trick ever performed? At the heart of my brain.
Always liked the one where the magic man pulls the card from his mouth,
Like he's dragging it from his mind.
Maybe you are the card, dragged from mine,
Or maybe we're all cards, dragged from God's.

I guess I'm stuck in this bubble for now.
Can't touch you, can't hear you.
But I see you; I see where we're going.
Floating down to the water, where it begins.
Where we can all awaken from this deep dream.

'Reality - is what you make of it.'

It Is a Good Pain

To miss someone,
To remember their scent,
Their smile, their skin. To feel sorrow for what you have, but cannot.
Cuts deeper than a flaming blade to the heart.

The monk, sitting on the mountain
Feels nothing. Linkless to anyThing, independent of anyOne,
No barrier can break his connections, since there is nothing to break.
Like a dead man;
Sat in heaven, he can feel no pain.
When that which he loved is gone.

Away, for now. A distance stretches this link between their two souls,
Twists and warps it into the essence of pain.
Not pain of evil, the pain of love,
Retaining it's former purity, immortal.
Like a bullet, elegant and glistening,
A jewel delivering agony and ecstasy, in equal measure.

This barrier of ice, the other side so clear
He can see the image of their face.
Perfect - too seductive, ever-enticing.
Passion for the heart / Torture for the mind.

The Sorrowful One, stood, wishing he was the monk?
No. Glad he is stood behind this glass, with this blade In his heart,
Setting his thoughts of her alight.
Glad to be stood there before the glass, the veil holding them apart.

Because I'll take this dagger, shatter the glass, and hold you with me forever.

A Dance

Every day, we dance. You, I, and Them.
To music, we move our feet to the rhythm and rhyme,
Sending sparks out that could light fires in a thousand admiring hearts.

We dance in our conversation, a waltz of words, the limbo of language,
Our tongues turn and bounce in sync, like radio receivers,
But miss a step, step on toes, and anger is spawned.

The believers, they Dance with god.
Put their hands together, clapping out a melody with a prayer,
A dance with no crescendo, with an impossible partner.

The lords and crowds of this land Dance out moves with their speech and their cheers
A Movement of their feet, of their voices, becomes a Movement of the world order.
Dancing out a new dawn, so that fewer must take their final Dance of death.

A Dance I will make sure you never take as long as our feet move in kind.
Instead, we'll Dance with our hands, with our bodies, with our hips, those lips.
On whatever Dancefloor we can find - A forest, a street, a dance with your eyes.
With my hand on your back, and our fingers interlocked; this ballroom is for us.


Dance with all your heart, mind and soul to the music each new day gives you.

My Mother is a Toaster

I've made it my current life goal to see Iron Man 2, especially with this trailer out.

5 Long Years

Since you asked me for that,
The small treasure I'd hoarded after the 11th celebration of my birth.
Since you stole from me
The ocean of compassion I held for you.
5 Long Years ago. Baba.


The forest is dark, cold, unforgiving, and bitter.
I am a child, walking with my Guardian, tasked to keep me safe,
To protect me from the evils lurking in this mist.
Beasts with a thousand eyes and a thousand fangs,
Tear at the ground, rabid, eager to claw at my back.

But whilst you are there, they cannot touch me.
With your bright light, broad as a coast line, deep as its waters, safe as an island.

A smile.

In your long Grey Armor,

Second-Hand Jacket.

In your Red Chariot,

Peugeot 406.

Crashed so many times, never a graze on your steel skin. Untouchable.
Unforgiveable.

You held my hand, as I trod the ground in this new world and
Grasped at the moss around my feet.
You stepped further away, yet never too far,
Always stood by my side, your hug, a shield,
Always a flame turned to the evils of this forest.

11 years walking with you, I run back, after venturing further,
A Siren, bearing hooks for eyes, and a knife to it's own stomach,
Has caught my Saint, the one who lost the need for protection long ago.
I run to the life-line, screaming for you.
But you are no-where to be found now.

All I owned, all I knew to be true, you had taken,
And vanished from this world, taking all you ever were.
I sat, slumped, on a tree-root, cold, alone, with only the Siren for company.
The Saint would have helped me, yet he was ensnared by It's deceitful gaze.
I called out for you, a thousand times, in vain.

Now, I stand tall, carry my own sword,

These words.

Stood not alone, as you did

With friends and loves.

With more light than you could ever bear.

With the knowledge I begged for from you.

The scars you left, deeper than any beast of this forest could tear. Healed.
Yet in my sleep, as I drifted in the moonlight,
They split asunder.

Despite yourself, Father, I miss you.

You Are What You Believe

Belief: "The psychological state in which an individual holds a proposition or premise to be true."

'I believe in the word of Jesus Christ our Lord, that all men should suffer for their crimes.

'I believe in Barack Obama for President! YES WE CAN!'

'I believe that everything is what I perceive it to be.'

'I believe in humanity.'

'I believe that weed is the answer bro, the grass gave me back my eyesight!'

'I believe that Bigfoot is my estranged auntie.'

'I believe in the flying spaghetti monster.'

'I believe in God.'

I believe in none of these things.

I believe:
I believe in the individual person, but not in the people.
I believe that Pandora's probably real, somewhere. (No)
I believe in UFOs. (Yes)
I believe that there is more to this reality than we can comprehend.
I believe that certain emotions are obsolete.
I believe that everything can be written as equations.
I believe that I will one day venture beyond the Earth's atmosphere.
I believe that the right sentence can change the course of history.
I believe that all I can be sure of is My own consciousness.
I believe that we can all be Gods of our own visions on the world.
I believe in Me.
I believe in You.

To know your beliefs - is to know yourself - is to know the mind of God. What do you believe?