I found her majesty

I found her majesty

Monday, October 13, 2008
11:08 PM

I wake up and take a walk. Passed by the places of my birth, the sweet smells of falling leaves that paint those sweet faces in the canvas of my memories. They are of shining places like soft spaces, heaven dazes, and mirth filled phrases.
I wake up and take a walk. I see your face staring intently into mine and think if we could get closer you would be mine. I would say to you, welcome my highness to this, your kingdom.
I wake up and take a walk. I lingered in your soft touch and wanted to crawl into the warmth of your hands that wrap around my neck like little stones picked from the soft bed of river
I wake up and take a walk. By that stream that makes the creek we spent eternities sittting by and saying nothing but knowing eachother as one knows thyself.
I wake up and take a walk. I stop by that place where eons met eons and rejoiced in their quiet legacies
And the stories they told and secrets we left for them to hold
I wake up and walk by your sweet scent but I cant stay hear* because these fallen leaves tell stories of myth and majesty that I can hardly bare to bare.
I wake up, walk. And tell myself to just keep going. That way the pain would be left behind there and hopefuly the quiet stream would rush by and sweep all my nothingness away.
I walk and hurry by. I see a place that is like some dream I used to have as a young man.
I walk, a vision of sun sweeping my face and it recalls a smell to my olfactory that builds a place in my recollection like souvenir collections of places I don’t think ive ever been.
Walking and I stop for one second to day dream about some forever I don’t remember living and it becomes a wrecked déjà vu.
I wake up and take a walk.
I wake up and take a walk.
I wake up and take a walk.
I wake up and take a walk.
…i stop
Desist from this routine and resist the refrain of the memory blockade
The soft drizzle begins to fall and I take cover.
I sit down. Finding myself weeping under the shadow of a willow.
I realized that one day I woke up and took a walk and havent been back since.
I took a stroll and found I rolled and took a tumble.
I took a walk and set off to some nothing land.
I sit and mourn this place that conceals my scars and shows the farce of my mask brigade.
I sit down and mourn this place.
I sit down and mourn your face.
I sit dow and mourn this pace where I left my tear drops in your footprints.
I sit down and water falls, Rushing by and flooding the montage of my volumes of reminiscence.
I sit down and my frozen cheeks are buried in my cold boulder fists.
I sit down….
I sit down…
I sit down..
I sit.
A little waft of suger sweet and soft stone clenching the side of my cheek and I hear your honey smile say to me…everything is as it always has been, I have not left your side.
I sit. Thinking I saw your face today and light breaks bringing forth the prestige of your visage.
I sit and think that I saw your soft touch on my frosted one that I tried all this time to have disremembred.
I see now all these places that we have been and omitted from our banks pointed back to that one sweet moment
again I live in mirth and lore, for my forgotten store of honeysuckle memories.
And all that was once right in this cold dank place is brought back.
I turn to you with one last tear for the unremembered fanta-seer of long ago and say.
…
Thank you, you'r majesty...

...ow

He knew it was almost over, the last of it was so close. The quiet that usually welcomes in the final crescendo was beginning.

The lit streets where once bright lanterns had begun to dim were like omens to his end. Prophecies to a demise he spent a lifetime trying to avoid but managed to walk headlong into it.

He walked these same conduits as long as he could remember. Surges of emotion overtook him.

These streets he once knew well betrayed him now

these pathways of his youth were like his memories dim in the dusk light.

He found his way by the hauntingly familiar rough touch of the sidewalk and the brick.

He had made it to the destination that had awaited him for years now. Remembering that even in his early years this would be his grave. That he would enter into it with no one around.

He was lost now.

No one to care
No one to bring solace or even despair
No accompaniment to the explosions in the sky

So long lonesome
Were the last words he heard.
…
Only to realize they were his own.

retry: it feels like deja vu (madness from my own inferno)

we are the curse of our fathers.

we are the memories of what we once loved.
we are the remainders of their division.

pieces left of places we've been and haven't seen.

i see your fragments in my head
there for me to piece together later
they flash through like visions in my dreams and get confused

what was what couldve been

all became the same when I left and fell off

when my eyes close and the wholes open wide.
i see u far away.

these beginning rituals of elementary introductions from when we first meet.
second glances become the second chances of the lives we have lived out in my head
awkward deportment of our stance as the lids are caught agape for the first time
makes us jump back

sweaty demeanors we learned from the preparatory
keeps you at my distance so as to derive your intention.
this sick math stays my hand
a restraint from your touch
hold me close. hold me close.

these sights play out before me and life becomes my movie.
its my favorite except ive lived the past 20 minutes over and over
all i see now are their eyes staring at my broken places and torn up faces
that i wear to hide the scars

the scenes tickle that spot in me that loves, the one lying dormant.
it twitches in the morning light
stretches
yawns
greeted by the friend and deliverer
...

and cut to the heart

only to sleep the day away
this world has taught me to hate
and the love that spills out becomes like poison
slowly killing me each time it feels

i play back the moments of my film on the big screen of my soul
the surface is torn and battered

i need a guide because the place im at is so far from where i kno.
the people here are stangers and the lights are dim

bring the siren
bring the sirens
listen to the sirens

they preach the demise of the places you knew
they proclaim the pain you can not escape
and fill you heart with dread so you can not feel
except for
the love thats been turned to poison
festering at the wounds youve hid from the light for so long.

where is my guide
my virgil to show me the way out from this place

"this man has not yet seen his last evening
but, through his madness, is so close to it
that there is hardly time to turn about"

sunrise

i've realized the last year has been one in i pretty much just kill everything about me that feels and loves and does anything of significance.
mostly a series of exercise taken to get by the weighty death known as school.
i figured if i just go on auto until i graduate i can finish and get on with life.
im not sure whos plans or intentions or fault it is but it doesnt seem to be working the way i planned.

ive decided something. we'll get to that.

the last month or so has been different.
like a retraining or a jump start for my heart.
suddenly i feel like ive woken up from a long nightmare...
it feels scary to know where ive been and where i find myself.
its like falling asleep to the wind beating violently at your window and waking up to the first snow, everything is quiet but you hear all the small things you hadnt heard all through spring summer and fall.

ive been doing a lot of reading too.
i swear i learn more when im out of school then when im in it... i look forward to being done and learning for real haha.

i used to say if i ignore it i dont need to deal with it, thats true. now things still hurt just not as bad. what was worse was all the memories that began to become like daggers. i may have not had to deal with it but the pain just multiplied.
i still get those flashes of that life once lived all the time. i hope things begin to get clearer
i have learned a ton too its just now a matter of organizing all that and putting things to action.

foremost among the learning-
love with abandon. life is always going to be too short. no matter how much we try and fast forward the ugly parts life is still there
just as ugly/beautiful as it was the last scene.

feel everything. everything.
and all that everystuff you find take it to the father. wrestle out the bad embrace the good find your in between

if we dont feel not only do we lose ourselves we live like zombies among the ppl of zombies. (huh kinda like isaiah once said, except he was talkin bout lips).


could it be that every person be so bewitched by some magic as to jar them from their slumber

consider this the message to the serial sleepers
from
one who was numbered among you
until recently...

something im workin on

leavin my bros house a few nights ago the beginnings of this struck me. i typed into my phone and developed more just now.

this is what i got so far but i dont feel its done yet.

potential title: no one knows im gone...


we are the curse of our fathers.
we are the memories of what we once lived.
we are the remainders of their division.
pieces left of places we've been and haven't seen.
i see your fragments in my head to piece together later
when my eyes close and the wholes open wide.
i see u far away.
these beginning rituals of elementary introductions when we first meet.
second glances become the second chances of the lives we have lived out in my head
awkward deportment of our stance as the lids are caught agape for the first time
sweaty demeanor we learned from the preparatory
keeps you at my distance so as to derive your intention.
this sick math stays my hand
a restraint from your touch
hold me close. hold me close.