As my world burned he came. Angelic in feature, unscathed and unharmed by the flame. He looked at me, our eyes met he winked Than flew away. "oh come on", I yelled "not again..."
Pen in hand,
Staring at the paper
No words amount
Close the page,
Dawn brings a new day
Hail the fridge
Haikus are easy
But sometimes they make no sense
making the word count count
A Harmony of Sound and Silence
Dawn comes bells are rung
alarms sound chirping abound
wind cascades childen play
the bustle of another busy day.
streets sun-lit, laughter and glit
young lovers hopes and dreams
the day ends moon descends
The air is filled with
A star filled sky
day gone by souls ascend
young love found now hidden.
streets lamp-lit strength and grit
the harmony of a somber evening
winds abate, children asleep.
stillness abound a silent sound
Dawn comes bells are rung
Shadows Under The Sun
I have ridden on the wings of dragons, destroyed armies, and loved princesses. I have experienced crushing loss and deep despair. I have loved many women, lived a multitude of lives, and been called many names. All this I have achieved, and my journey has only just begun.
A story allows you to be someone else. Watch his life flow, witness his hopes and dreams play out as he toils and sweats before you. You see him at his best and worst, you watch him succeed and fail, with the aim to learn from that man’s tale.
A story that has impacted me greatly is the Count of Monte Cristo.
I witnessed the sudden and crushing destruction of Edmond Dantès’ life. I stood beside him horrified when we heard the judge’s verdict, and I labored with him in prison digging to make our escape.
I found the treasure of Monte Cristo with glee, and immediately began plotting our revenge. I watched the young Maximilian Morrel strut about in his naïve youth and sought to teach him the painful lessons that were seared upon me.
With Edmund Dantes I’ve learned the harsh truth that everything in life is relative, and if one wants to experience the greatest of joys, they first need to experience the worst of defeats.
Dostoevsky has taught me a great deal about the human spirit.
In his crime and punishment, I stood beside Rodion Raskolnikov as he murdered Alyona. I watched Rodin fall apart as his perfect crime slowly unwound. His brilliant mind too clever for the police but alas no match for his withered soul.
Dostoevsky gave me insight into why it is people feel the need to make themselves suffer. Through the suffering of Rodion, Semyon Marmeladov, and other immortal characters I have received much insight into my own life.
I have lived many lives and been called many names,
This is some of the bounty I have received from the written word.
those who wait
Silently waiting, he answered the phone.
His son was alive
Now he was to.
those who lived
After pain comes bliss and after screams silence. he could hear it, a silence so sharp it hurt. A soldier saluted him, He just nodded in acknowledgment. He walked through the city alone, a living thing in a giant corpse.
then she said yes.
. . . , , . . , , . .
A beautiful sound
Like music to my ears
A Pleasantness so great
I have longed for years
For a heavenly grate
The noise deafening
Yet love it I do
For the sound of nothing
Is the one which rings most true
A walking contradiction is he
Clear as dirt, understandably
Misunderstand and yet understood is poetry