Offroad thoughts

You'd think sanity to be
part of the package,
and that's that.

Maybe for the very few,
blessed with peace,
or cursed with boredom,
this rings true.

But insanity need not come from
lack of reason.
It may look different,
but the instability caused by
inner chaos
might well be of the same strain.

In pure over-thought,
in those neurons
that thought themselves
greater than the mind,
in the illusion of
dreams come true
into nightmares,
and the impossibility
to throw down anchor,
to stop moving,
to never slow down.

It's not insanity,
mind you.
It's the road that may lead you to
that nice white room,
stuck in a wonderful,
unending caress.

Funny how such hospitality
aims at the streets, as if
damage has not yet sunk in.

And more laughable still
is when we leave these roads,
we find what we ought to be.

Sometimes, the first steps
are the hardest to lift.

And sometimes, in finding freedom,
we run.

Lucky

"Lady Luck will soon visit you."

As fortunate an event it may be,
it need not be an event.

Luck is for those
unlucky enough to be
crippled without it.

It's a fickle mistress,
as she may come and go,
and even be against your favour.

She can bring you to the very top,
and then shove you down the side,
watching you fall without her support,
a grin overtaking her delicate lips.

I need no ghost blocks in real life.
Leave those for the other worlds.
I can conquer them there.

The bridges I make,
the walls and supports?
They won't fall to
something so half-hearted.

Sure, those fateful to destiny
can buy the moon or a star.

But I can always find a way
to bottle it every night,
and make it
mine.

Manifesto 2012

Will this be something to burn,
or something to keep?
Will I find it as treasure,
or evil from deep?

This time, is it special,
is this something I seek?
What is it I hunt for?
Is it good, or meek?

I ramble around without full concentration,
writing excuses for mental variation,
and when the outlet has felt all the pen's vibration,
I grab what was made, and hang it for the nation.

Were these excuses what I meant to share?
Or were these words a collection of wasted mental air?
Have my testing and deductions been spot on and fair?
Maybe all that was needed was to lay the problem bare?

I meant for my art to find evolution.
Instead, it seems to fall towards conclusion.
It's work path reveals a ton of confusion,
so maybe this road was not the solution?

And yet, here we are.
And, so far...

Through rhyme, or rant,
or every odd reason,
when my voices come out,
or time changes the season

I found that this
can lead to the same
even though the road
didn't have a chain

that tied it all together,
that made it all apart
of something the same,
of something that's smart...

Not everything is hardship,
not everything is pure.
nothing is impossible,
and nothing is sure.

It's always
a path, a way, a road.

But it's still
my discoveries, my life, my load.

And who know what these words
may someday do?

So in short: These poems are without  boundries,
and I write them for you.

Words that were missing

I've never really let go.

I remember those who are gone,
and those who are leaving.

I remember those who touched my life,
not by name, but by action.

But at the same time,
I watch as they walk on out.

As they leave forever.

No attempt is made to stop it.

No words are spoken except

"I'll miss you."

...But, I don't want to miss you.

I don't want you to leave at all.

And as I raise my voice too late,
I hope that my words can change this.

Please. Don't leave me.
Please. Don't let go.

Whpsh

A downpour in what seemed a time forever dry.
What a lovely sight!

Life seems to calm when the tears of the world come down.
The cracking of the winds themselves through pure heat,
the trees dancing their dance, in attempts to summon more,
the sheet of rain that cuts off the horizon.

Such chaos brings
such peace.

How can one simply refuse nature bringing full force?
Wind guids me to my real purpose.
Never has it stopped my single path
towards wherever I didn't know I was going.

The cold will always be a reminder
that we live on.

But rain?

For some reason, it brings peace
as it hammers away at my self,
penetrating my defences.

There will always be the storm to come.

And I will enjoy it,
for the flash it is.

Expansion Pack (to be erased, but never forgotten)

Remember your failures, but never stop striving for what you want.

Take happiness from the fact that someone is happy

Hold close what you see as important, as nothing should take it away.

Take steps towards correcting wrongs, instead of lashing out.

Walk your road, but never forget to decide where it leads.

***********************************************************

Nightfall: This doesn't look like poetry at all! What nonsense is this! D:<

Angel: You're kidding, right? You know his plan. :3

Devil: Oh, you know she loves her dramatics. let it be.

Cemix: Nobody looks at this anymore, you know that, right? >:P

Rage: ...

Shadow: ...I wonder how long this will take...

Aaron: Well, now I can't back down, can I? It looks like the time to start this project! Let's begin, shall we? :D

Look right/Look left

Too many realms to balance,
in every life.

We have what supports us,
what we survive in,

and then we have that place
that we live for.

Our art,
our game,
our thought,
our love,

our loved.

We make that balance,
even when it seems impossible.

Our minds,
focused on those important,
even in game.

While we shape our art,
we are lost in thoughts.

We love what we do,
and we live.

Yes, sometimes,
one pull overrides the others.

But that never changes what we find important.

What we return to,
when the fun is done.

What life has taught us
to to never let go of.

What I destroyed

I ran into the oddest of strangers today.

An old friend.

...An old acquaintance, at least.

A person that clung to me when I was young,
accepting me for anything I was.

Back when I didn't care for people.

I had bashed her ego to death,
so many years ago,
in my attempts to rid me of her.

Yet, still, she never let go.

Until I disappeared from her reach.

Now, almost a decade after,
I reemerge by chance.
I spotted her, glancing past.

She looked deep in my eyes,
crystal clear.

But she never saw me.

She saw part of what made her her,
and then, she walked away.

I wonder what I left her,
and what she gave me,
that this meeting was reverse of what should be.

I'll probably never know,
and she already understands.

...I wonder which one's a better road to know?

I Dub Thee

Does the name decide all meaning?

There may be "chair",
but there's no reason
to keep books off it.

There may be "rock",
but it can heal
just as much as harm.

"Water" can be corrupt,
"advancement", a down-step,
"emotions", a mask.

But they are named
for a reason.

They are named these,
for all in all,
the title fits.

Attempt to find something
that fills the gap we make
so neatly.

You're a visionary
if you do,

or you're blind enough
to hide it from the self.

You forgot this

I feel wordy.

Maybe I should write something?
Something angsty, perhaps?
or maybe I should let slide my emotions,
and break the sentence to fragments.
Or, I could just vent about my surroundings,
and just toss them in the open.
Or, I could write poetry!

Oh, wait.

Before you say it,
I know what you're thinking:
Eskimo.

Why did you think that?

Because it was the word you crossed paths with.

You are told what you think,
at one point or another.

I told you I write poetry.
You probably took that as truth.

So did I.

But really,
we write what we want to write,
how we want to write it.

The name of the writing is secondary,
as it is nothing but a title.

So, I'll tell you what I really write,
and go back to the label given
later.

I write words.

Whatever you may say
about my form,
you can never deny
the means used.

And the means
is what will outlast
the title.

Maybe it should be known

I care about you.

Yes, you,
for this is not a kind life
we endure.

We all live,
day by day,
with our win/loss ratio
haunting our thoughts.

We have scars,
limiting what we can be.
We have things that make us
move.

So, while there may be exception
for those who try to hurt who
I care about,

yes, I care about you.

Because humans are worth caring about.

An End to Nothing

You probably thought
that I would stop running
when you were out of sight.

Funnily enough, I thought the same for you.

I expect that to be true,
all things considered.

You and your weaponry sounds off,
seeming to be ignorant
of my white flag,
planted in the ground
so long ago,
with the word
"Truce"
painted on.

Maybe you desire not
"Truce",
but
"Surrender" instead.

Apparently,
we had not been together for long enough, then.

By the time we went our separate ways,
I had already dried my tears,
vented the frustrations,
and burned the bridge.

I surrendered to myself.

I won't give in to someone unworthy of the act.

Maybe you find the life I lead unsuitable.
Maybe you know better.

But I'm stubborn to those like you.
Let me lead life,
and fail when I fall.

I'll get up.

I'll get up every time.

With help, with goals, with my eyes set on the future,

I'll keep on.

Eternal sight of the repeating

Young boy,
you sit in the corner,
hiding your discontent.

I watch you,
with my mind's eye now.
I see your denial of those
you once did fear.

Humans are made of harsh material.
Those who may endure
the shaping process
may find themselves
pressed against a thousand swords.

It's rare, when you're always in thought,
that you don't find yourself
at the cutting edge.

You will survive,
as I have seen it.
And on day, you'll do more than that.
You can see in others
what I see in you.

But,
do you really
want to?