This is some stuff that I wrote. This is only a sample, really, I have piles and piles of this stuff.
Acrophilia
A drop of a hundred feet is much like a thousand;
Both end in a splat.
But seeing the ground so far below me I wonder;
Am I subject to that?
It seems in a lengthy fall I’d learn as the birds do,
Kicked out of their trees,
To ride on the winds as though they're thick as the oceans,
Or I thin as a breeze.
I fear I might fail to catch myself when I’m falling;
An ultimate dive,
Yet below the clouds with steady whiteness assure me,
And I know I’ll survive.
But now I’m aware I can’t get down from this cabin
To heaven below.
These portals that line the walls are mere decoration,
And only for show.
A part of me says this sort of thing is called flying,
But let me be bold:
A genuine flight is open skies and is freedom—
Not a pressurized hold.
And some of them think this time is good for reflection,
But how can I think
When just to the left a window leads to blue yonder,
And I’m here on the brink?
And so I just sit, not thinking about elevation,
Way up in the sky;
In love with the air, but now just waiting for touch-down,
And the bed where I’ll lie.
Student of Incomplete Wisdom
I am a student of incomplete wisdom.
I am a sailor on oceans of light.
I am a dreamer adrift in the heavens.
I am a star in the brilliance of night.
I am a walker on paths well established.
I am a map-maker sitting at home.
I am a gazer who sees from a distance.
I am preceded wherever I roam.
I am a spinner of shadows; a weaver.
I am a wordsmith; a forger of truth.
I’m a magician, a worker of wonders.
I’m an apprentice, an untested youth.
I am a wanderer far from the city.
I am alone in the midst of the crowd.
I am a silence when thunder is crashing.
I am a voice in the silence, unbound.
I am a nothing; all vacant and empty.
I could be everything, boundless and full.
I have a dream of a future that’s gleaming.
I am in dread of one listless and dull.
I am no more and no less than a person.
I am a song that deserves to be known.
I am a poet; my words hold a power.
I will have strength and speak out on my own.
White Sky
The sky above is white.
It shines a frigid light:
Illuminates the snow
Above me and below.
A flat and depthless view
Devoid of any hue
Now hangs upon my wall.
The snow that will not fall
Around horizons looms
Like white asylum rooms
Built fast to hold me in.
I’m sitting in my skin
And walls that wait outside
Are forcing me to bide
My time here till release.
Now
What’s this medication for? I think I’d rather play.
Isn’t it more fun to watch your mind just fly away?
Walking oh so slowly with no destiny in sight,
Done with destinations, I’ll just wander day and night.
Lost amid the clouds, I’ll sing with angels in the sky.
Lost in perfect wonder, though I’ll never wonder why.
Tell me, what’s a future, once I knew but I’ve forgot.
Give me no instructions, let not knowing be my lot.
Why should I need anything but life to be content?
Happiness is being, letting needs and wants relent.
Let your wanting vanish, let your soul be tranquil too.
Even in forgetting, I’ll remember I’m with you.
What is an ambition but a dream that’s gone astray?
Wandered from the flock of now to somewhere far away?
Won’t you be a shepherd here and guard your flock with mine?
History’s gone on ahead already, that’s just fine.
Dream me a tomorrow and I’ll dream you a today.
Spread your wings and span the sky above so far away.
Yesterday, tomorrow and today are only words.
But in this world called now we can be free as soaring birds.
Blind
My eyes are blind; I cannot scream
In mourning for the seers’ dream.
My dreams are blind; I cannot lie,
And though there’s hope it may yet die.
My hope is blind; I cannot sing
For me. This song for you I bring.
My song is blind; I cannot lose
Nor win nor tie nor even choose.
My choice is blind; I cannot see;
Please lend your eyes and scream for me.
Day and Night
Knife of dawn for all our sakes
Come cut the night the shadow makes
And clean the wounds of our mistakes
Before the morning breaks.
Raise your hands to greet the dawn,
Forget the night; the memory’s gone;
Daylight’s footsteps marching on,
The moon is far outshone.
Dance of spheres unyielding to
Such silly things as me and you;
Though now the sky is clear and blue
The darkness is soon due.
Greet the night with boundless fright
And chase the sunset’s failing light
And flee the dark; the cold will bite,
This happens every night.
My Own Personal Hole in the Ground
I sit in a pit
Of unspeakable black
With no way to go
Either forward or back.
I shout, "let me out"
As the people walk by,
But the wall is too tall
For my pitiful cry.
I sink in a drink
of a murky black hue;
I'll drown underground
In this unholy goo.
I need to be freed
from my prison of muck,
But it's true, sure as glue
I am thoroughly stuck.
You now ask me how
I was trapped in this place
with these flies in my eyes
and this mud on my face?
Please let me ease
Your inquisitive mind;
I created my state
With this shovel, you'll find.
