Lane

Who has been in touch?
Whose asked you how you are?
Who knows you are hurting even if physically they are apart from a far?
Whose true in your life?
Gifted or cursed with the all knowing of your current reality,
Tolerant enough to stick around through all notions,
Being emersed alongside you through euphoria or brutality?
Many today are entertaining the smokes and mirrors charade,
Only showing their best cards,
Once a fool to this sorcery,
I self measured sparring with the bullshit,
But now I want all out anf to be rid,
Washing my hands,
No part of it,
My Pinocchio sparks curiosity,
Into the world of celebrity,
But the craft of orchestrating or hiding from paparazzi,
I acknowledge and thank is lightyears away from me,
So why reveal anything,
Essentially to nobody,
Once fooled such networks were made to document,
When on the contrary they are built for the business of popularity,
And I seek not a spotlight upon me,
I will engage privately,
Especially with imagery,
But my minds often constraints me,
Regurgitating unwanted mental photographic projection,
That I only know to express in metaphors,
Blogs and poetry,
I must release to give my head space,
For turbulent matters to wreak havoc and pace,
Where people can choose to check in to learn and relate,
This worded place has no ladder to popularity,
No motive but to seek mental clarity.
Real is personal and direct,
A transferable transaction,
Hosted privately.
The act of back and forth,
Must flow that way precisely,
Frequency changes,
I believe are bound to occur,
But now older and less naive,
I acknowledge can result in permanent damage,
And irretrievable wreckage.
Who stuck to you like glue in your past,
So tight you never dared doubt that the bond may not last?
Who is in your present?
Are they a gift or a blooded tyrant?
Who will journey with you to the days ahead and unknown?
Memories fade,
Sometimes a blessing when practicing forgiveness.
Yet burdened scars bare permanent marks carried to the grave,
External or internal,
Some pain never drains,
Forever holding us hostage,
A haunting hold passed through bloodline,
Most complex without the hold of remembrance,
As triggers to avoid,
We know not,
Yet decclining emotion,
Mental stability,
We loose,
Confused we try to facade,
To cling to dignity,
From pressures of certain public persona,
As if wearing fragile emotion is a disability.
How do you weigh,
Measure,
The impact of bumping heads?
When trying to avoid conflict,
Yet acquire self respect,
Whilst acknowledging your worth?
The only inevitability in life as far as I see is death,
If you have entered this world as yet.
Being mindful,
Is not to revel in regret,
Or sit and wait for what hasn’t evolved yet,
Nor have to try too hard in relationships,
But to perhaps simply accept that sail has slipped and shipped,
And that’s ok,
If love was once shared,
It will always be there,
Even if unbeknownst,
Or unawear,
Worms meat is biogradable,
The universes capacity to treasure and share is amongst us and obtainable beyond our power out there,
But when trust is lost,
Your heart is ripped,
With no owned responsibility,
Warranted apology,
Palatable explanation,
And when no ofference has sincerely been made to truely fix it,
Redemption,
A line must be drawn,
For our tiny mind expantion is not infinite.
We are intended to always be on the move,
Going backwards isn’t easy,
Yet somewhow we all do it,
Nor is being in a spin,
Yet we all get stuck in loops,
There is absolutely no point in side stepping,
Going forward is the intention, And in my opinion not a cliche but accuracy,
Life is a marathon,
Learning many lessons as you march on.
In my lane there is room for support,
But now especially,
No room for baggage,
Being dropped myself too many times,
It pains me to reach this point,
But a door mat I am not!
I am pure and full of love,
I am light,
But not a star to stay constant for whomever,
Whatever,
No matter what and whenever,
My lane form is turning narrow,
With love I intend to part from many of you with one last hoorah,
Not maliciously,
Nor with sorrow,
But independently,
For a brighter tomorrow,
Deserved and contained,
Pastures new,
If you are part of my life,
You’ll personally know it,
Because you’ll be in my lane.

We Knew, You Knew, Your Judge will too!

And so the leech has died without our blood,
Slithered and withered away as he so should,
So away mind body and spirit,
Part swift and leave us to it,
Sarah is ours again,
Let her dance with us until she leaves for heaven.

Roundabout…

Inspired by the TV show, West World…

See the record spinning?
Neither head nor tail,
Where’s the end or the beginning?
Round and around,
Full circle on demand,
Yet seemingly free,
Deceit!
Tis all engineered,
Placed by God,
Or something supernatural,
A force beyond our understanding,
It’s all engineered,
Designed,
Rigged,
Already chosen,
A hidden force manipulates,
What we perceive to be free Will.
Play,
Stop,
Skip,
Handle with care,
Delicately,
Avoiding wear and tear,
Scratch that,
And the sound will slack,
Skipping,
Trying to take it back.
It loops,
Circling like a hoola hoop,
Rhythm fast,
Rhythm slow,
Rhythm go,
Go,
Go,
Over and Over,
Because the master made it so.
A mirage of freedom,
In reality,
A soul trapped against its Will,
Destined only for fatality,
Things aren’t what they appear to be,
Russian roulette,
A fascade of tranquillity,
When really brutality,
A journey that you will endlessly repeat,
Yet we still forget,
The purpose as to why,
We do not know yet,
Bewitched,
Trickery,
We learn with regret,
And then we try to learn some more,
Starved with zero power,
I am mentally impaired,
But a sensitive suffragette,
Slightly aware that things are not right,
Stuck in an endless maze,
I hope for something more,
That there is some reason behind this treason,
But for now,
We lack control,
Lost in a game that we did not sign up for,
Chained to the tightest strings,
We are but puppets,
Stuck in a wretched game,
That we are forced to Play,
On this tainted roundabout,
In shades of grey.

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Time Knows…

Is it the end,
When the clock stops,
Or do we just descend into a new beginning?
They say that lightyears of time came before us,
And lightyears of time will continue on after us.
Time is not ours to bargain with,
More complex then we are lead to believe.
With the need of power,
And a sense of control,
Man made the clock,
A system unbreakable,
As solid as a rock,
But what happens when the hands of time malfunction,
And the tick tock and chimes are no more,
When the inhalation and exhalation of our breath stops?
When promise is ceased?
When the heat of the sun transcends into ice cold?
When fluidity turns solid?
Eye’s close,
Followed by customery worms meat or air pollution.
If there is no tomorrow,
What have we got!?
Nothing is more powerful then time,
In line with the sun,
Moon,
And sea,
But science suggests that even they don’t have immortality!
Time may help us anchor,
But it will never be a prisoner,
To you or me,
Time answers to no one,
The grand master of eternity,
Existing to the realms of infity,
And the only knowing,
Of how long that might actually be!
As the tea lights in the sky no longer exist,
I expect we shall cohabit like this,
At the end.