Journal Entries

red your dead a collaberation

And in not knowing all the reasons
As to why or how the sun must set,
Or of the winds' directions blowing,
where they are going whilst the sun is glowing.
Is it wise to ask these questions? Will the answers placate you?
Will the questions answered wrongly, be given as if true?
The moon in its full glory is like a yellow ball,
Yet, only seen at nightfall, is its soft glow seen by you.
The sun--a giant fiery orb--is large,
Yet seems small seen at this distance far.
But at each night's fall the colour ((color)) of the horizion becomes a crimson golden red,
The colour that we think of as our bodies approach the state of dead.
Yet, if you stop and listen at this time of day
You'll hear the voices whisper, "A new day's on its way."
For, while the wind is blowing out the embers of the sun,
The dogfox is a-hunting rabbits on the run.
The breeze calls out a warning to all those listening, upstream;
For those who are unlucky, the last thing said is screamed;
For all who are sleeping, it's naught but a cruel dream.
Yet, before the night is over, many more will die,
But only in my nightmares vultures o'er my head do fly.
It seems the winds a-calling them to come indulge and feed.
The scent of sweat and bleeding is all their senses need,
To hover on the up-draughts ((updrafts)) 'til all below is still,
Then downward they come spiraling, their stomachs soon to fill.
And after they have eaten, all bloated there they lie,
Their heavy-laden bodies are now to big to fly.

Discuss this Journal entry [5]

Latest reply: Sep 30, 2004

En route et croute

Follow me down to the river of dreams,
Whispers the wisps ,or so it now seems.
Where you will find grass that is green,
Memories, savoir faire, especially prepared,
Passing the time in the valley of hope ,
Reshaping your life , aspiration succumbing
If the winds pathway is straight as is true,
cold is the air, as the truth travels through,
Hot are the fire of lies and deceit,
excuses for ,fear is the fuel, that
The cruel ,in there rule ,of desires and lusts,
Must and often will often ignore,
What is the , right, and is it just,
the path, that is twisted as is the, way
Of the past, is all gone ,or
so it now seems ,as I follow you down to the
River of dreams

Discuss this Journal entry [2]

Latest reply: Sep 29, 2004

black eyed peas

Conflicting collaboration conspiracies conspire,
confusing contradicting compassable confutation
As boldly as I can I go, towards the end of the road?
Black eyed peas, see all, from the sanctuary of there beds.
Yet they are silently, moving forward,

Differing association conspiracies connive to,
confuse contradicting compassable refutation,
So in the grand scheme of thing we will find
All is well within reach, from those who teach,
The way to the stars, in the black eyed peas.
One sees all is well, don’t break the spell

Contradictory collaborations plot ,conspiracies
confusing supporting compassable confutation.
If you say today I’m on my way, when all is
Said and done, the black eyed peas and I are one

Discuss this Journal entry [2]

Latest reply: Sep 26, 2004

tears of the willows

I’ll remember the tears flowing ,like branch’s on willow
reverberations of the news first heard, through my pillow
Brought by a raven, a cold hearted Black bird.
I asked him to ,repeat it in case I had misheard ,
Again and again, numbness in those words,
I stand alone and afraid , Red eyed ,speech slurred
Bowing to gods of the river, I implore you I urge
like the banks on the river, The breaks in my heart,
Memories like torrents are pulling apart,
Around ,my head spinning, thoughts out of place.
Never gain will I see your bright face, the tears on my
Cheek blackout the pain, been crying so long now
A grey stain marks cheeks that once glowed, like
The nose on a reindeer when it gets cold, the light
In my eyes when your where near by , are cold and as black
As mid-winters sky.
the light that you lit there when our love was new,
Died with the message I don’t love you,
The message was sent from the bed of your wife,
Cut much deeper than a surgeons knife,
The waters inviting, I go on my way,
More fish in the sea as mother did say.

Discuss this Journal entry [3]

Latest reply: Sep 25, 2004

Corridors to the soul

Blue eyes ,warm blue ,eyes, that made my heart soar
Memories of lazy summers days of yore
After a while, the speckles , like star maps, those warm pools,
I have gazed long and often, when sitting on this stool,
What are they reminiscent of ,these gate ways to hell
Stasis fields ,guarding the corridors to the soul, yet
So inviting twinkling ,diamond like smile, sparkles ,
Defiantly high lighting the freckled sun kissed face’
That’s how I’ll remember you.
Not any other way ,my heart fused forever to yours
The fires of passion, fuelled by stardust from your warm blue eyes
Has melded Us together forever ,Until the month of never
like the little tin soldier for ever and a day.

Discuss this Journal entry [4]

Latest reply: Sep 21, 2004


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