I Wouldn’t
There is a basic fact that lies overlooked in our inherent potentials. That glaring face of responsibility on the dual faced coin of our own personal choices.
These choices being the actualized fiber of who we are.
It is the idea that just because we can do something and do so without consequence, does not mean we have to.
This concept in conjuction with life being the main thing I hold sacred combine to allow for my answer to such a question.
Life being sacred means I respect it. I will not take it, and any who have it have my respect inherently; though respect can be lost situationally I grant it initially off the rip.
There have been bad people in my life and many who have harmed and even threatened my very livelihood, but the loss sustained to me through the mistreatment of that which I hold sacred would be a greater cost on my self than Any outsider could ever inflict.
So it is; that given a free pass to end a life, I would not take it; I would decline.
Road Trip
And the mountains
In their misted majesty
Lay bathed in golden shine.
Silhouetted Dark masses forming waves ore the horizon
Bright strikes of light patching through tree leaves
Only made quiet as our altitudes increasing
Weaving through these mountain tops.
Time could stop
And I'd be happy.
Just knowing this;
I feel lucky
Road trip
And the mountains
In their misted majesty
Lay bathed in golden shine.
Silhouetted Dark masses forming waves ore the horizon
Bright strikes of light patching through tree leaves
Only made quiet as our altitudes increasing
Weaving through these mountain tops.
Time could stop
And I'd be happy.
Just knowing this;
I feel lucky.
Now Higher-ing
Precious and raw.
Our verbs don't know time.
Our usage sees its faces,
And it's at these times,
In the written pages poets get to work.
Verbiage fueling the continuity of our very existence.
It's with Each word
There is received a flow of content, and meaning,
seeding all the things
that matter to us ultimately.
This highest of purposes dealt through poetry and verse.
Be it a curse, a blessing, a charm or a lesson.
Poets guide humanity through our conscious progression,
As with our words we reach out
and with our meanings we reach in
Forming an understanding within.
Reading to feed life and
to Give.
Writing just to feel something
That we need to live.
Journal of Inside Words
So long on this wrenched road I've walk
Pains gone from the shards of glass and bits of metal in my feet
And the pinch and pull of rips from movement barely register from the dried patches of deep red scabs all over me.
.
To call numb a feeling is ironic
Irony having lost its comedic glow
From ironic to being "just how things go".
I've emboded failure and tasted regret
But that taste left in my mouth
Is washed away by cigarettes
Exhaling into the vacuum packed atmosphere.
A stinging twinge with a dawning thought that dances near my anterior mind.
That love and joy and life divine are lost to me in my mental fortress and isolating mental autonomy.
I owe life an apology.
| Birth |
A new horizon.
A miracle arisen.
From the Dark form springs.
|Growth|
Multiplicitous
Size shape height weight change
The body and brain.
|Development |
What life is meant for.
Clutching moments place in space.
Reaching out to live.
|Aging |
It is a as the tide.
Waning moon and suns gone by.
Through this life we pace.
|Death|
Deaths the guarantee
Bringing life's sacred value
Last beginning faced.
Title: Waves
It was the bang that laid out this path.
Lovers more star crossed than
Any love past.
Sir Ur (our earth)
And lady moon
did swoon so!
This took place
In the hollow vacuum of space;
but it is that the gravity of the situation made it so
these two celestial Spheres
love affairs could never be.
So; Sir Ur
filled up with tears.
They swell when she is near.
Close, but
always too far to touch.
So it is so that
our Earth must
(try as it might),
Attempt to catch
the path of her flight.
Hoping against all reason
to bring them together
evermore.
It is as he weeps
That rain pours.
Waves will crash
on distant shores,
all while the
wind speaks the pained shrieks
of the fight.
This is why
every night
The lonely Lady moon comes.
Yet
(try as she might)
she too fails the plight
Never to reach
Her Sir Ur.
Like a siren to
Our world;
Her amorè.
It is
the thrashing tides
Who keep the score,
And their woes whisper in the wind.