The Indigestible Kiss

The indigestable kiss, the mystery of her emotion. My feeling surrounds her in dark romance. Oour eyes locked in their embrace and can mystery be blamed for fantasy? And can there be no arbiter? And can there be no just conclusion When we leave to go our settled separate ways? And can the heart remember well and the be kind always in its memory>? Lost in just a moment her memory surrounds me. Freedom is hard to find and I look another way to another direction where she can't be found. Quiet memory appeals to me. It warms me with its thought and the thought of closure. It is almost summer and the birds are singing, they punctuate my silence until they grow silent themselves. And there is music in my reflections and the songs sing of love and the song was from the heart when the heart was filled with truth.

Today

Another place hides in its darkness, secreted from my knowing. I dream a dream to it in blankness, and the evening is still and the birdsong is no longer. A name is on my mind, someone I am not acquainted with, only their words have spoken to me somewhat, when I have read over them. I focus so slightly and wonder if this is the direction for me to turn to, to discover something that I almost sense that I have to find, that I somehow seek to find, without being fully conscious of it. I allow the idea to drift until I see more of these words tomorrow. Today there was strangeness in the day and I felt myself lost within its shape, I was a stranger to this particular day. It didn't present itself to me. It sought to ignore me and I sat in the evening of this day wasting time, passing time. I wanted to still avoid it, and I wanted to look into its heart. I wanted the truth of it all no matter how much it didn't want me, nor didn't want to appeal to me.

Remembering a Particular Feeling

Je me souviens et sais que vous ne vous souvenez pas de moi. Je revis notre amour et sens votre contact. Vous êtes réels à moi aujourd'hui. Que je ne sois réel à vous plus, me signifie peu. Peut-être je n'étais jamais très réel à vous. Mais l'amour est l'amour et il ne peut être nié par aucun d'entre nous maintenant, bien que je parle pour seulement moi-même.

I remember and know that you don't remember me. I relive our love and feel your touch. You are real to me today. That I am not real to you anymore, means little to me. Perhaps I was never very real to you. But love is love and it can't be denied by either one of us now, although I speak for only myself.

The Crutch

The crutch I need, I have decided, is not alcohol or religion or listening to a particular person or adhering to a particular philosophy, it is some place inside of me that I have to explore.

Now

This moment is right now. In the history of the world and of creation this is now. And I am honoured to be in this moment in the history of life, and now I must honour it........

Facebook

Here the phantom angels reside. A world apart, becoming together. And the cymbals clash and the people stand. The world has changed and the music is dancing.

Mind Guitar

Now I see that Art is God and my mind is not so much all fingers and thumbs except when they are on the guitar.

Me and Charlotte Bronte

I am presently luxuriating in the craft and the art of the greatest writer whom I have ever read: Charlotte Bronte

God

Reality stands before the eyes, physical in shape and deceptive in its truth. Spiritual mind lies behind the curtain looking for the feeling to make it real. And its realness lies with spirit and soul in the place where facts no longer figure. Love lies here also and it calls you home and to become entuned. And the music has the good people dancing, eyes are in eyes and there is no distance apart. Soul is created, silent soul, no appropriate words. Life smiles provoking engagement. You can either take it or leave it. Art lies in soul and is its own reward. God has seen to this, for he is the gift of soul and of love. And in a moment there are magical occurances, bright eyes and memories colliding with the present, and the present looks at itself and it notices a figure there. And the figure stands over all of truth, because the figure is truth, and the figure is GOD.

Advice to Myself in the Night

You want to be free? You want to excel? Well, first you have to lose your mind and keep your sanity. Be in touch with spirit and soul and forget about 'knowing'

A Turn to the Right

Feel I've been on a journey to another place, looked around and stayed for a while, enjoyed the view and the people, and yet still don't know where I was. I only know I wont be back there again and I may just try to tranlate this experience into reality sometime perhaps soon, when my mind if free, and the time is right