Sonnet

If time should heal all things in course
Then without time all things would fade,
Into such a place were we must force
All debts in heart and soul be paid;
But with time in place a distance undefined
Grows between the lives that once were twain,
Thus a moment defined by one or many instance
Will cause a light to wax or forever wane;
Though theoretics may give hope of alteration
In lives we might that we could ever change,
Once written ceding only to determination
Of author and of editor both willing to engage;
Though time may often leave an ugly scar,
Beauty, with new Ink on page and skin, may not be far

Where do I go?

I don’t know where my soul is

Im not sure if I have a heart

I don’t know if im living

Not sure if i remember the start

The days drift by staring at this luminescence

Living the dreams of someone else

Minutes fade to hours, then fade into the distance

Books sit unread upon the shelf

Where do I go where have i been i cant remember

Does anybody know my name

Im standing right here on the sidelines

But i never join the game

(Theres no one else but me to blame)

(Am i just scared or im insane)

I have a dream

I have a dream, a subtlety of sorts

An idea in mind, a subconscious thought

A decision, a choice, myself unawares

A question, an answer, awake I can’t bear

I have an Idea, a dream of sorts

My conscious mind, a question  of thought.

Festival Fallacy

We met midsummer's eve amidst the trees and dusty fields,
Within a sleepless city to which silence, sound would never yield.
Where all who came from near and far to open up their minds,
To dance and sing and laugh and cry, they knew not what they'd find.

Within the second city that me met the fields were long replaced,
Through glass I saw emotions, within which you were encased.
We travelled from the centre, to Failand and Green Lane,
And on the journey there you shared with me, your troubles and your pain.

You Told me of lovers lost, of friends betrayal and fathers scorn,
The stresses of uprooting home and how you felt so worn.
And as you curled up beside me as we journeyed from the barn,
I wished that I could keep you safe, keep your heart from further harm.

Yet on that grainy farm you showed us all your strength and power,
Your willingness to do your best despite the lengthy hour.
Though Robert did betray his folk, Vain Morrison his girl with eyes of brown,
You held your devil by his spoke and spun him to the ground.

Through Longitude to Latitude, past oxygen most dubious,
With Phil of river cottage fame and improvising Jupitus.
My shack it saw no action, afore great wind tore asunder,
Swift aid did help our sorrows drown in bubbles from down under.

Three stops along the wayside did delay our journey home,
The last a central garden yet I spied no single gnome.
Many hours later we returned, one friend repaired,
Our possessions were not with us, still out on the road somewhere.

You offered to me sanctuary on your moonlit street,
One touch most inappropriate was all between the sheets.
A decision from discussion, to complicated it would be,
I miss you already said a message sent to me.

Upon the sunny southern shore, just outside Lulworth cove,
We cast aside our doubts and fears, into each other dove.
I hoped that I could hold you forever there in my arms,
I could no more turn my gaze from you than move the stars..

night owl

floating past the midnight bell,

an air of uncertainty beneath my wings.

to the light fly through the dark of hell,

will the animals come to buy these things;

fly's on the wall, eyes are in the sky,

head turns so far beyond its means,

to keep watch till end is nigh,

and all of this can fade to dreams;

Social Network

 were they totally unaware of the 56 million usear of facebook and the unrestricted accessand freedom of speech affiliated with such a gargantuan social network, or unbelievably they were so naive to understand that when incorporating yourself into such an incredibly complex, multinational, multilingual and multi sexual network of such magnitude, covering the span of the world, that given any chance that they were bound to eventually to come across something unfortunate. I could find countless words, images, references and much more that offend and cause pain within my very soul, and when just cause presents itself I will use this amazing tool of social communication to voice my opinion. But I will not ever under any circumstance  take what I read to be either fact 'or' fiction or knowing not what the writer intends, be it the later or the former. Such a thing would be akin to considering the Daily Mails opinion of the Sun. If one does not like what one reads, whether in narrative literature, newsreel, lyric or gospel, one can simply close the book and pick up another.

who knows

I didnt know his favorite colour or his favourite tv show

I didnt know if he liked sunshine or smiled when he saw the snow.

I didnt know his favourite band or favourite harmony

I didnt know if he drank coffee, or took sugar in his tea.

I know he was a man like any other that I know,

I know he had a heart and soul out on his sleeve for show.

I know that he felt love and laughed and cried like all of us

I know that we All struggle, when life gets really tough