don't look back.
don't do this.
don't do that.
don't be you.
don't frown.
all things that flood my mind.
also words i've heard along the line.
i say them in attempt to hide
what's actually going on inside
you don't know what's happening in your daily life.
you wake up, almost robotically
doing what you have to
what you've always done.
you make mistakes.
but you're human.
another thing i'll tell myself.
will there be a heaven or hell?
will my sight fade, my hearing stop
will I leave this Earth for good?
notice how all of these are questions,
and none of them are answers
but I suppose I will find out soon
everything I have ever known
will be gone
I will never see a sunset
never run in the dark with friends
or will i?
how does this all work?
how could I be nothing?
how could everything keep going?
all my life I have only seen the world through my own eyes
it feels like my own personal place
I was a boy when I first climbed the Oak,
Whose branches were so vast
They seemed to stretch out for hundreds
Of feet in all directions
Whose limbs reached and searched,
Groping for the touch of the other trees
Even though the other trees shrank away from it's majestic size
There was a barrier that I wanted to tear down
So that I might see why the other trees
Would want to withhold their leaves from the Oak
And as I struggled to climb,
Scraping my shins and tearing away the skin
From the tips of my fingers
I also found that I could dissolve my self-doubt
I reached the top at sunset
And I discovered not God
After sunset
I wonder what color
the birds' heads are
i fear to lose these sakura coloured
breathtaking sights i have grown to
love so much, the pink gleam of the world
twinkling as morning dew on the fresh
budding branches under the amber sunset,
crinkling their little noses upturned in the
fresh scent of your detergent and the faint
waft of my floral perfume. perhaps i dont want
this moment to end, for one day i know
i shall fall short of the huge dream i have created
just for myself, a lone daisy in the field on a
stormy night, sakura petals torn from their
branches in the violent graze of the feeling
of being cut off, wistfully fading in the grey white
reflection of the overly large crescent moon.
let me breathe and live through these
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least, must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmuring something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly, ‘Safe!
Now let the night be dark for all of me.
Let the night be too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.’
How often had the sun been red
The sky as deep a blue
Behind long, tired stretched-out clouds
When I was then with you.
How often had the evening sea
Which you so much admired
With archipelagos of foam
Been bright and ruby-fired.
Oh, all these things tonight are here
Upon a distant sea,
But I have found no other one
To stand and watch with me.
late day sun &
small pieces of ice floating
on the river
After lockup
orange sun goes down,
tired reflection.
I am glad daylong for the gift of song,
For time and change and sorrow;
For the sunset wings and the world-end things
Which hang on the edge of to-morrow.
I am glad for my heart whose gates apart
Are the entrance-place of wonders,
Where dreams come in from the rush and din
Like sheep from the rains and thunders.
No more from out the sunset,
No more across the foam,
No more across the windy hills
Will Sandy Star come home.
He went away to search it
With a curse upon his tongue:
And in his hand the staff of life,
Made music as it swung.
I wonder if he found it,
And knows the mystery now--
Our Sandy Star who went away,
With the secret on his brow.
Beyond the sleepy hills of Spain,
The sun goes down in yellow mist,
The sky is fresh with dewy stars
Above a sea of amethyst.
Yet in the city of my love
High noon burns all the heavens bare--
For him the happiness of light,
For me a delicate despair.