Pottery wheel, spinning clay; flexible and unbroken, inanimate and unspoken, as it waits through the flames.

Seeing to it the soul is set ablaze in an oven; getting hotter by the minute as it hardens fragile clay.

Passing through from place to place as time sweeps away; Chinese blue and white porcelain, slightly cracked, remains unshattered, antique as it was priceless; made in 1738. My favorite vase.

Then came the final phase, the day she fell from her clumsy base. Now in place a thousand shard’s that can no longer stand where she stood, I thought, it could not be replaced.

Perhaps there was nothing I could do on that very dreadful day.

So today I make a new one, in tradition of the past.  

As I hand it down my family tree; knowing it wont last.

#poetry  

You wanted it, and now you wont stop flaunting it to the invincible ones.

Until they stole it; you’ve been shut down entirely.

Up to you whichever; whatever, however.

I’ve been hanging on throughout all of your endevour.

Based upon actions. Look upon, cut into fractions.

What is left of you.

They must have forgotten who they were talking to.

A true mastery of mystery. After being mistreated.

I’m sure you can feel the heat, it’s just tagging along.

No one can touch you now, you’ve left them in dust now they are standing there scribbling.

Like giving advice about a place you haven’t been; how would you know?

Did you jump inside my brain and say: “yes that’s definitely him”

if so then make a bet, feel free to pretend that you know it all, as I recall.

Each and everyone must fall too.

Until then I’m not sure of your sincerity. I only trust the one’s who have.

#poetry

lower case (faced my new malice)

two faced must taste (like new whim)

add two and two again (duplicate)

must be from the north grid (silly and sick)

bullion slick got tricked into giving the slip

(hands down new pick)

sterling silver shone (like shivers) melting from my heart

sand stone sharp (swords take part) in a gunfight

(invisibly) dizzy (evict fear)  

waking dreams to befuddling the darkling

(destitution lays wait)

dumbfounded nubile noble (desperation I grovel to)

enliven such weak mood (congregational celebrations)

much is history (unforgettable and audacious)

of course and not forgotten.

#poetry #creative #prose

She fell apart before me

Adorn incandescent heartfelt mystery  

Swearing to the ninth wonder like fire Who now holds the wind

#poetry #prose

I don’t know what I’m doing here

Nothing passes It’s all the indifferent

I can change all I wanted to yet the world will stay the same

So what’s the difference in any progressions I’ve made?

Using all time just to escape

Only to find myself back at the gates

Of hell, where I started when I first made the change

Now I’m back to the beginning of this joker’s parade.

Only now I’m not the fool; No part of the charade

Coloring evil a delicate red

Part way from

Always best dressed

Forever prepared to witness the face of death.

Not ment to just sit in limbo but delegate action.

#poetry #prose

Moon lantern; adjusting as to swing to the banter

Missing such sight’s to

Swearing such might would not be used to my

Dimming whatever is seen by any

Love show’s up in strangest way’s

it’s not always another

Sometimes in your own faith in yourself and your thoughts and the way

You cannot master destiny in the course of one day

It take’s time

 It takes faith

It takes courage to be brave

For the element’s are tough

 You cannot choose when it rain's

#poetry #prose

There once was a time when words rang true.

Back when life required less to connect as

 love was abundant and superstitious.  

Two eye blue;

Three eye black;

Walking on.

 Looking past.

Blue eye blue.

Dust to dust.

You aye you.

Meet me in a world before awkwardness existed.

Ascend quaint comfort and not have to pretend;

Look within to restore this new depth of leisurely refreshment;

Repose in relief; Succor amenity.

A new reason to start again.

Watching drones repeat the actions of the next.

Styrofoam generation.

Make my day.

One hundred thousand words at the reach of my disposal.

Then here you are, refusing my proposal.

#poetry #prose

Standing upon the bridge looking down to the scenery strikes wonder upon them lithe be;

an amorphous cascade of water running fourth,

causing a half-hearted deadlock unto the dreadnought-

getting caught up in the epitome of fleeting etiquette.

Enchanted by effervescent,

flowing from the rocky crescent.

Evergreen tree’s light the breeze as a slow moving drift flows down from the moon-lit morning sky.

Moved by such majesty, singing it’s own lullaby whilst the thicket.

No thought of brooding in such mood, as unrestrained revelations take place in the misty palace of nature.

#poetry #prose

They say you cant rush art.

Whoever said that was wrong.

 I rushed this, so much for that.

I’m pumping these words straight from my hat to my heart with no real aim for literacy.

Then again,

 this is my attestation.

And if it doesn’t make sense,

I must be faking.

They say if it not ought to be then it not ought to be.

If you tell me what not to do,

 who not to love.

Where not to be.

Then I’ll be there shaking the sugar tree.

Proving wrong whoever said it’s the wrong day to say such mental mockery.

No one ever told me how to live anyway.

Tell me what not to do so I can go to it.

Just because you can’t,

 don’t mean I can’t go do it.

I do what I want,

don’t you know?

I want to better my life.

I need to be in control.

Because the brain in my head is not just for show.

I use it to see differently.

Definitely felicitous.

I’m being totally vicious with the words being used here.

This is where an open mind come’s in absolute use Dear.

#Poetry #prose

Happy today, my thought’s are toned down and my heart is turned up, the volume that is and whatever it is that makes me dance like this. Perhaps this world just gave me a kiss. Whatever it is the sacred information flow’s through my lips. I am no longer in doubt,

 I keep seeing a clearer version of earth in my mind yet every time I do, I turn out blind for this one. And another clue emerges from the ever-knowing tide of truth.

For the place I keep escaping to inside my head, is only a distraction, from making this world my home and not that one. That one in my head.

Sometimes I must look out, for me to look in, yet then again, I’m doing it again. Only this time I am here as a friend and not lost, within the world within my head.

Not needing to mend from my own critical judgement again.

Because when I visit that place, I know that it is not. My home that is. Because my home is here. Writing these words, that I hold dear.

My heart is turned up and my mind is turned down, my head wear’s the love, and my heart wear’s the crown.

That’s the way it should be, the way it is now.

#poetry #prose