Haiku (Part One)

First and foremost, if you have ever talked to me about writing then you probably have heard me say how much I hate haikus. For the most part I really, really dislike haikus. Poetry is subjective, but it also has its limits and boundaries. Haikus can completely break these rules, and approach a level of subjectivity so extreme that nothing is as it seems. Therefore the interpretation of haikus is extremely varied and inconsistent, with the real meaning the writer intended being shrouded in mystery and obscurity. Therefore, I will include my own commentary about a haiku that I write. I may write some more in the future, but all of them will include an additional commentary. Please feel free to leave your own comments on what you think they mean, and what you think of my commentary.

Haikus
I dislike haikus,
They are all almost alike,
I hate this one, too.

Basically this haiku says that all haikus are basically the same, and that all of them are stupid. The last line seems to hint that even a haiku saying that haikus are stupid is stupid, since it itself is a haiku. This is somewhat paradoxical, but what I wanted to get across is that all haikus are so incredibly subjective that it is almost impossible to distinguish between what is a simple haiku about nature, and what is a haiku about discovering your true identity by utilizing your inner strength. This haiku, of course, ends up performing a self-fulfilling prophecy, as it is arguing the use of haikus to portray a subjective message, but does so in a subjective way, as a haiku itself no less.

Tombstone
My tombstone shall read:
"The cycle continues here",
For we all must die.

This is straightforward. I am saying that my tombstone will read "The cycle continues here", because my death will symbolize the continuation of life. My decaying body will be used by the earth to nourish plants, and herbivores will eat the plants, and carnivores will eat the herbivores, then the carnivores will die, and so on (roughly how it works). Everything in the world has to perish, as stated in the last line. More than that, though, every death that occurs in the world is not the end of life, but also the beginning of a continuation that will take place even after we no longer exist. In short, death can also be seen as birth in a sense. Life will always exist and operate in a circle cycle. Nothing can stop it. Not even humans.

The World and All Its Happenings
Dinner with your friends,
But a thousand miles away,
Iraqi child dies.

What I'm trying to get across here is that you should always be aware of the pain and suffering that exists in the world, even if you don't have to experience it. On a simple night when you are eating dinner, somewhere in the world, someone is going through a traumatic experience. This is not a haiku to question the motives or reasons for being in Iraq. It is not a political literary piece. Still, the deaths of young, innocent Iraqi children in order to carry out an operation for a so-called "greater good" can hardly be called fair. A laugh you share with your friends may also be the last breath of a youthful six-year old, who didn't want to die yet. In a larger sense, his death symbolizes the very freedom that you have to eat dinner with your friends. His death is not needed in the effort to fight terrorism, but it was an unfortunate outcome of the actions taken to quell it.

Mama!
Girl runs to see mom,
She was abused and depressed,
Hung dead on the fan.

The second line talks about the mother, not the girl. She hung herself from a ceiling fan because she was abused (perhaps by a spouse) and very unhappy. Her child is running to see her - but we aren't told why. The notion that she is running seems to suggest she is excited about something, probably something enjoyable or happy. We can only imagine the horror the young girl must experience seeing her dead mother hanging from a fan. This is a very depressing haiku, and I'm sorry if it made anyone who read it sad. It is a reminder that your life can change in a split second. It can go from good to bad, or from bad to good (a theme seen in Suicide Poem). Always be vigilant and treat the inner balance of your life with extreme care.

I Am How I Am
Is my life just sad?
Is it hard to be happy?
Ask yourself and see.

This is another theme which I've drilled in to the ground quite thoroughly now. The concept that whether you are happy or sad is dependent on yourself. Don't allow others to determine your mood or how you want to feel. Also, do not reject your instinctive emotions and thoughts. Only you know how you want to feel - so why not feel that way? Life is too short to not live it the way that you want, and every human has the capability to do so - so why not you? Don't be afraid to be yourself, and don't be afraid to realize that if you're in a bad mood, you can change it at the drop of a hat simply by coming to terms that you have the power, and you have the control.

We Are Deadly

What a beautiful world we live in,
Where a man can kill a man.
Creation of life happens all around,
Only destruction by the human hand.

We are Nature's Bane,
We kill her every day.
We will use her up, 'til she's nothing left,
Then wonder why she didn't stay.

War is a human invention,
A scapegoat run by the strong.
Why do we continue killing,
To show that killing is wrong?

Bears and birds feel no hate,
Neither does a fish or a mouse.
They simply exist in perfect harmony,
A perfect circle, of which we are oust.

Different

He likes to remain alone,
So others can not annoy him.
This is a lie he tells himself,
To avoid the hurt, so dark and grim.

He doesn't want to get drunk,
Like those on the "Friday Night".
He just wants to be happy,
He just wants to read and write.

He dislikes the physical manifestation,
Given to youthful sex.
But he will not abandon his values,
He will not be the next.

This is not to say,
He is not filled with lust.
He sins as all humans do,
Because sin all humans must.

Deep down he just wants a friend,
Deep down he just wants to be shown,
That he is a good person to love,
And that he is not alone.

Suicide Poem

**Don't be frightened by the title. I'm not considering killing myself, or anything like that. Just a topic I wanted to write about (and will write about more in the future) because it intrigues me.

It is all finally over,
It has all come to an end.
I never thought it would go this far,
That I would be broken and unable to mend.

My mind was destroyed first,
I just didn't get it, I couldn't understand.
People would ask me "What's the matter?",
And I slapped away their helping hand.

My soul was murdered next,
When I lost my will to live.
If you fall off a horse you have to get back on,
But eventually, even a horse will give.

My heart was the last to tumble,
And with it my hopes and dreaming gaze.
All that was left was my ghostless body,
And the method I would use to raze.

I had the day picked out,
When all my pain would be through.
Standing in line with a box of sleeping pills,
When suddenly I met you.

You're So Lucky

**This may not apply to exactly everyone who reads it persé, but taking in to account everyone I know of that even reads this blog, it suits that audience.

You're such an incredibly lucky person. Yes, you there, the person reading this text. Let me guess, you are probably at your own personal computer, or at a library of some sort. I can also probably guess that you are not starving, that you are wearing moderately clean clothes, and that you've showered (I hope) today, or yesterday. You also probably don't have any diseases, and you are probably in a moderately healthy condition. If you wanted there is probably a place you could go to this instant to receive food - just like that. If you got sick there is a doctor that you can visit, or a hospital that will take care of you. What is the worst thing that happened to you today? If you said nothing, then you're lucky. If you said something, then ask yourself if you have to deal with that every day of your life, or once in a blue moon.

You're probably already well aware of the fact that you are a fortunate person. Your family might even say grace before eating dinner. You're aware that you are lucky, compared to others in the world, but I bet you do not take full advantage of what has been given to you. What are things you do not like about life? What gets on your nerves? These things are bound to all be trivial. I won't say that I do not complain about stupid things in life, because I do. That makes me somewhat of a hypocrite. However, I do realize fortune when it is given to me, and I am fully aware that I possess it. A simple fact is that our quality of life can change based simply on where we are born. Be fortunate that you were born in a place that offers a hospitality that others can only dream about.

More than that, don't just be fortunate, be eternally grateful. Don't let a day pass where you don't realize how lucky of a person you are to have such a wonderful life. You can call life a process of living, but others in the world have forty or less years to live, and thus can not do the same. When you permit the subtle nuances of your life to bother you and annoy you, you lose sight of the fact that your life is great and beautiful. Seeing people complain in this manner irks me (and I hope others, too) because they are annoyed at a ten minute traffic jam, a cell phone in a movie theater, or a long wait at a restaurant. What tiny, miniscule, insignificant things to upset your mind with!

All I ask is that you be aware of how lucky you are. Be aware of how great your life is, and how love exists everywhere around you. Be aware that your problems are ones that do not threaten your existence, only the enjoyment you derive from it. Be aware that to be given the ability to dream and strive is not a commonality shared by all, but a privilege that has been given to you. Most importantly, be aware that no matter what happens you will always be a lucky and privileged individual, and to always be eternally grateful for that.

Heaven on Earth

When people think of heaven,
They see angels and streets of gold.
But looking down the street,
I see the joy of nature unfold.

People sometimes ask themselves,
"What will you say to your maker?"
Those things I simply ask my parents,
For I know neither are a faker.

Jesus died on the Cross,
To absolve us of all our sin.
But Jesus did not have to die for me,
For in this life, I intend to win.

Is the most important man ever,
A savior or a sham?
Either way does not matter to me,
I just love my life, and who I am.

When we all pass away,
Who is to say where we will go?
And what will happen to those,
Who spend their life trying to know?

Why can not Heaven exist in the trees,
Or the smiling faces of others?
Why wait until you die to see,
When the Earth already has your sisters and brothers?

Ramblings on Reality and Dreams

I don't know why I chose to write on this fickle subject. Nothing that is written here is likely to spark any dormant neurons in your brain. Still, it is a subject I haven't voiced my opinions about yet, so its dissection was inevitable.

The first meaning of reality is something that is actual. That is to say something that exists, that can be defined as real and actual, is a part of reality. That definition is so boring, though. What about those concepts where (and I'm sure you heard this a thousand times) each individual person holds their own reality about the world? What is this reality, and how do you define it without simply saying it is subjective? What about people's dreams within this world, within their reality? These questions and more have been asked for thousands of years, and I am merely reciprocating them in order to continue the tradition.

First, ask yourself what the world is. Besides a large terrestrial mass known as Earth - the world is also a collection of realities that people share. For the types of realities I speak of - the ones that exist within people - we can say that there is not one singular form of reality. Adhering and giving in to something because it is the way it is supposed to be done in reality is a sign of the feeble-minded. The greatest people in the history of our planet did not adhere to what was considered "reality", but challenged it with their own, and some even won. This is because they had dreams - or wishful realities - which they wanted to fulfill.

Facts and truths are nothing more than the common sharing of a reality between two or more people. If you teach a child from birth that two plus two equals five, then that will exist as a part of their reality - whether or not it is true is irrelevant. Something does not need to be true in order to exist to someone as reality. Serial killers sometimes receive enjoyment from killing people of specific specifications. While certainly twisted and demented, if it exists within their mind that what they are doing is enjoyable - then it is a reality for them. Obviously the most commonly held truth about killing others is that it is a bad thing, so these people are viewed in the utmost negative light.

People give themselves significance through their dreams and their own personal reality. They find something to engage themselves in and repeatedly do it. I write because it gives me a sense of purpose and significance. Whether or not anyone reads it, whether or not it's good, whether or not it makes me money, is irrelevant. It exists as a dream within my mind which gives me self permanence, and also stabilizes the reality within me. Obviously finding a dream or passion and pursuing it is one of the most commonly held goals among all humans of the world. However, those who change reality, those who shape it, and mold it, are the ones who end up affecting the world the most. Martin Luther King, Jr. took one reality - where blacks and whites could not live together - and helped (he was not the only one who took part in this effort) to mold it in to a new reality - where blacks and whites lived and loved together. This is but one example of changing the realities that people share about the world, in order to make it a better place.

Imagine that one million people are sick with disease in a city. You are but one of these people. One day after long hard work you discover the secret to curing the disease. You tell your best friend the cure, he tells two people, those two people tell two people, and so on. Now replace disease with something you wish to change about the world, and the cure with self enlightenment. Now make it a goal to shape the realities of all of those around you - all of the people connected and interconnected - to such an extent that they too may see and be enlightened. Is it easy? Of course not. Will you do such a thing and bring about a great change in the world? If you expected to see the answer "No" right here, then you won't. But for those of you who truly believe in yourselves, those of you who call impossible a challenge, I urge you to move forth with your head high and allow nothing to stop you. The path of righteousness will illuminate only when you truly believe in your reality.

Friday Night

Some men go to bars,
In their sleek sports cars.
Away from responsibility they run,
Away from their only son.

Some teens go to parties,
And fill up with Bacardi.
Some just get wasted and spent,
And others just get pregnant.

Some bums meet, but where, I don't know,
Toking weed, and shooting blow.
Corrupt, broken, and nothing to lose,
Not a heart, a mind, or even a pair of shoes.

More teens go to frat houses,
And are gathering like louses.
It was supposed to be a simple ride,
Who will call his mother, and tell her he died?

High school senior, filled with lust,
Takes away what made her right and just.
It was just a fun time, having fun getting laid,
In five years from now, she will die from AIDs.

Who is to say these events won't occur?
They've happened to someone you know, I'm sure.
What am I doing, on this Friday Night?
I am dying like the rest, dying while I write.

Principle of Equivalent Trade

**I don't really believe this Principle to the fullest extent. It's just an idea. Another youthful absurdity made by an ambitious mind.

The principle of equivalent trade states that to gain something, you must present something of equal value. While often applied in a scientific context, I think it is interesting to think of its every day life applications as well. That is to propose that in order for humans to gain something - albeit emotionally, physically, personally, etc. - they must make a sacrifice of equal value. It proposes if you are to fall in love, you must equally give up multiple things whose composition will comprise of that equal value of love you are receiving. It proposes if you are to gain knowledge and wisdom, then you are to give up some other aspect of your life in order to obtain them.

While such theories obviously cannot be tested, it is interesting to observe them within the scope of our world and its realities. It has long been said that if you extremely love someone, you are also giving them the capability to hurt you to the same extent. Such can also be applied to the pursuit of knowledge and inner wisdom. Seeking to know everything and seeking to know yourself can have great benefits for the person wielding that power, but what if it too came at a cost? There is a distinct correlation between genius and insanity. Does one become a genius first, then through pursuing the area of interest too far, become insane? Or is one simply on the path of insanity the entire time? When attempting to become a genius, a person may be unknowingly giving up those things which retain their sane aspects. After pushing this forward for such a long time, they eventually lose hold of all of their sane aspects, and are then classified as "insane".

But what of more practical applications? To gain a friendship must you give up something? Of course. You must give up part of your security. If you are always alone in your life you can control to what extent you are hurt by others. But if you willingly give your thoughts, feelings, and emotions freedom to be interpreted by other people, you suddenly open doors to possible pain and anguish. Marriage, too, comes at a great cost. It comes at a loss of individuality and a sense of self. Proper marriage, anyway, takes two people and joins them as one, to the extent that they share who they are with one another. While certainly the actual purpose and methodology of marriage is debatable, it nonetheless has its costs like everything else.

Is it true that in order to gain anything in the world, you must give up something of equal value? To a certain extent I think that it is. If you pursue religion fiercely, and close your mind to science, then you will be blinding yourself to truth. If you pursue science fiercely, and close your mind to religion, then you will be blinding yourself to faith. Thus both areas have their own costs related to believing. The simple belief of God has its own costs that you must give, as do atheist beliefs. Every action, every gamble, every decision, every personal choice of life direction that you choose has a path that it follows. However, it also has a path that extends in the other direction, which is the opposite of the path you chose. This path can often be seen as what you have abandoned, or chosen to give up, in order to pursue your selected path.

Most of this is bound to sound ridiculous, since more rational explanations are harder to pinpoint. For instance, What is the cost you must give up in order to equal the choice of eating food? These trivial tasks are often left to interpretation and the singular realities each person believes. The greater choices and decisions which unite everyone, and can not performed individually, are the paths which interest me most. Life in general consists of several reoccuring themes, such as Birth, Existence, Love, and Death.

Before you make a large conscious decision in your life, such as whether to get married, believe in God, follow science or religion, or any other major choice you find yourself itching to make, remember that for each choice you make about what to believe, there exists an element of equal value which you are also choosing to give up. Is it worth it to examine the things that we give up in life? If it is going to happen no matter what, what is the significance? For that answer I ask that you look inside yourself, but remember, for whatever the value of the knowledge you obtain and to whatever extent it shapes your life, you may be giving something up, without even knowing it.

Paintings

This is a story about the week of a young couple,
Their love, like all, was tender and supple.
They loved one another as all couples do,
But if their love is true, is up to you.

We begin with the first day they share,
During which the man was searching with care.
For the poor woman had just lost her favorite watch,
They could not find it anywhere, searching every cranny and notch.

The second day was not any better,
Today the man had promised he would love her forever.
For the woman had lost her one and only job,
And to his condolences, she could only muster a sob.

On the third day, poor fortune strikes thrice,
And today her faithful man was so humble and nice.
For the unlucky woman's dog fell and ended its life,
He tended to her heart, that was so filled with angry strife.

The fourth day was ripe with such bitter sorrow,
On this day she cried from the morning 'til the 'morrow.
Because the woman learned of her father's passing,
The man tried to comfort her, but was not harassing.

The fifth day was by far the worst,
Her man was gone and her heart seemed to burst.
She awakened all alone and with a scare,
Until suddenly she noticed a letter by the stair.

Her one truly beloved told her to go to the park,
She did as he said while moving through the dark.
He said to look for a bench plain in sight,
And by the time she got there, the sun shone bright.

Standing before her were five separate paintings,
And they all quickly rid her of all the week's taintings.
Quickly and noticeably, tears filled her eyes,
But she was not sad, and I will now tell you why.

The first painting was of her, in the very same coat,
In it she was reaching deep, pulling out a note.
She did the same, and made a startled sound,
In it was her watch and a note, "Look what I found."

The second painting was of her dear homestead,
And beneath was an inscription that read:
"Our love runs deep, and encompasses a wide range,
Not even losing a job, can ever that change."

Looking on to the third, was a painting that did show,
A young puppy of one, in a store window.
Attached to the painting, was another note that did say:
"I've left his name for you to choose, that is if you let him stay."

The fourth was a portrait of her father,
But his visage to her, did not seem to bother.
For below his face, were words far apart,
Saying "He has never truly died, he now lives within your heart."

The fifth painting was of a woman and a man,
The woman looked at paintings, while the man held out his hand.
In the painting she slowly was turning, looking behind her to see,
Her lover holding in his hand a ring, and also bent down on one knee.

Neighbor

I peek through the blinds, and there I see,
A girl moving in, with a slew of family.
So beautiful, and tender, how I wish to know her taste,
I wonder if she's like the others, if she too will leave with haste.

A week later, I know everything about the darling,
Her clothes, her hobbies, her pets who are snarling.
Much time we spent together, never let her out of my sight,
And the best thing of all, was not once did we fight.

We got along quite perfectly, with no problems or qualms,
We soon even bathed together, for I loved her soft palms.
But a terrible aching plagues my heart, for a secret I do keep,
And if she were, to find it out, alone I would be to weep.

I know I must tell her, soon in the future, or now,
But I must enjoy her company longer, being alone I cannot allow.
I still see her every day, and of each other we still care,
All the while my consciousness pulls me, to a secret I must share.

I plan the day to tell her, to let her in my heart,
Afraid she will reject me, and run away with a start.
Tomorrow is the day, when I am absolved of my sin,
Tomorrow is the day, when her heart I shall win.

I am nervous as I approach her, palms and forehead sweaty,
She looks at me quite frightened, and for this I was not ready.
She did not know that I knew her, or the events of her life that had arisen,
Fifty-four may be too old for her, but not too old for prison.

**I took the inspiration for this poem from another writer who did a prose piece of a similar situation.

Respect

Disgust is a word,
That often comes to mind.
When I think of foolish young men,
And the commitments of their crimes.

I feel remorse,
For the young female population.
Whilst they have such treasures to give,
The young men think of copulation.

Respect is a dish,
that has long been well-deserved.
I see lustful glances every day,
And my whole being becomes unnverved.

Mind, spirit, and body,
Become chests, legs, and behinds.
Please forgive my fellow bretheren,
They cannot read between the lines.

The day will come,
When they will collectively repent.
And ye shall forgive them all,
For you dare not their pride to dent.

Yet forgiveness is an option,
As I hope you intend to show'em.
Some confess their views through speech,
And others simply write a poem.

Good-Bye (Prose)

There once existed two lovers in the world, whose happiness was mutually shared. They not only did everything together because they could, but also because they wanted to. If there was a definition of true love, or if the existence of absolute purity in a relationship existed, then these two had obtained it. All throughout their lives they had depended on one another, and it seems as if the years passed by like water down a gentle stream. But one day, Change overcame them, as it does all things in the universe. This is the day that neither of the two will ever forget. This is the day, that they were forced to say Good-Bye.

At the beginning of their journey, the two examined their surroundings. Ahead of them lay two paths. At first they appear parellel, but upon careful examination they realize that they are indeed - ever so slightly - sloped away from each other. They turn around, and suspended in mid-air, like majestic clouds, are any and every action done together, every loving moment that they shared, and every possible living aspect of joy that the two shared in each other's company. Seemingly from nowhere, the two stare at one another, and their feet begin to move, on their own will, down the path, away from their loving memories.

At first the two are unaware of the purpose of the path's construction. They walk slightly frightened, holding on to each other with both arms, taking comfort in clutching arms, and the closeness of beating hearts pressed against each other. Soon it becomes a chore to remain clutched so closely, so they instead opt to hold hands. The hands pressed tightly together generate a warmth, and it is at this time that they realize their bodies are extremely cold. Reality begins to bite at their minds and their hearts. This path is going to lead them apart, one agonizing and painful step at a time.

Tears begin to fall like snow on the North Pole. A torrential downpour soaks the land beneath them, but they are always crying on dry land, for they never cease to stop moving. The force that moves them is unknown, and why it is forcing them apart is a mystery. Oh!, such despair is now sinking in on their poor hearts. Their only love - their only life - their only REASON for being alive, is being slowly pried from their reach. They remain silent, aware that even the sound of the other's voice at this point could cause a soul to shatter, knowing that it would be the last time they could ever hear it. Still, they march on, towards forever.

Onward their autonomic legs carry them, until soon the only part of their bodies that they are able to touch together is their fingertips. The force here grants them a slight reprieve, and allows them both to for one final time, cherish the touch that they have for so long given to one another. They stand gazing in to each other's eyes, a wild mixture of love, despair, regret, and most of all loss. With an almost imperceptible push, the force begins its unrelenting plow once again, and their fingertips part ever so slightly, yet enough to separate them. The heartbreak reaches its zenith, and neither of them, to this day, can quite remember how they refused from dieing at that very moment. Still, they continued to walk, gazing at each other for as long as they could.

Soon they became no bigger than a thumb placed against a landscape. Shortly thereafter, they existed as nothing but small dark specks on the horizon. Slowly their shapes became distorted, and eventually were - in a way - almost painted in to the blue sky as it met the ground. At the moment where neither of the two could distinguish the moving figure from the shimmering waves of heat, they both spoke for the first time in what had seemed to them an eternity. I am not quite sure exactly what higher power, or greater force, could allow for such a miracle, but at the exact same time, they both parted their lips, and almost whispering, uttered the words "Good-Bye" to one another. They both knew that they would never again feel the touch, hear the words, or see the body and heart of the other. Where this strange path led, neither was quite sure. Perhaps no one is quite sure, where the path leads.

Good-Bye (Poem)

Two souls in love,
never before had they part.
The farewell time has come,
To say good-bye to their heart.

The time that had passed,
Was not measured in years.
Along this path they walk,
Guided by their fears.

The path itself,
is of a grand design.
A perpetually growing V,
Going on to the end of time.

They both look back,
And it is there they see.
Every moment of joy together,
Every afternoon cup of tea.

Starting along this path,
They are closely clutched together.
They are forced to keep their march,
To the end of forever.

Soon the path forces them,
To hold tightly to the other's hand.
As the tears begin to fall,
Each a little grain of sand.

Reality begins to take its hold,
Firmly around their hearts.
Toward loneliness they both trek,
Two places far apart.

The moment comes,
When all that is left,
Is the fingertips that touch,
And to leave them both bereft.

The force that moved them on,
Suddenly finds a break.
Giving them both a moment,
To cherish the touch they must forsake.

The fingertips part,
And ultimate despair reigns.
For what ungodly reason,
Are they punished with this bane?

They walk, and walk,
Until they are as invisible as the sky.
In a hazy mirage of love,
They both say to the other, "Good-bye".

Angry At The World

God I hate you, your smile upon your face.
Your incessant talking, at that incessant pace.
Pardon me, could you please shut the fuck up?
Or would the blissful silence cause your brain to erupt?

The bell rings clear, it's time to eat.
Friends you go to meet, then you take your seat.
See me from across the room? See my frowning face?
It's because I always eat alone - I have no saving grace.

How's the weather, how's the day?
Does not your pettiness have any worth to say?
The world, its lives, and the experiences within,
Who is he who told them Emotion is a sin?

Tell me how you FEEL, you LIVE, in this life,
Not the smell of your broccoli, the weird shape of your knife.
The sheer scope of your vulgarity is measured in miles,
And your maturity can be compared, to a three-year old child's.

Enrich your SOUL, open your HEART, expand your MIND,
Abuse your Shell, and an exoskeleton you will find.
We all find out, and most of us too late,
Our decisions are a mistake, up to this date.

Hark! What is that I hear? Perhaps intelligent conversation?
Nay, It is but what I fear...more jubilant lamentation.
They do not yet know, but their laughter will bring them tears,
When they look back in the future, at all of their lost years.

Hidden

Big, fat, red roses, rich of color and smell.
Also have sharp thorns, which of you can barely tell.
From afar you can stare with much delight,
But attempt to grasp, and jump with sharp fright.

Beautiful birds fly freely through the endless sky,
Giving birth to two babies, knowing that one must die.
If you think they are playing, then you are deadfully wrong,
For one must always be weak, and one must always be strong.

A painting of a woman, the artist's dearly beloved,
She died falling off a cliff, he hides it was he who shoved.
The only reason he did, is because he loved her so much so,
Neither of the two could bear her pain, so downward she must go.

What is truth but a different version of a lie?
What is life but a process through which you die?
If you fail to stare long enough, the details you will miss,
I sit and ponder the age old myth, is Ignorance truly Bliss?

If you never try, then you never may know,
For every thing in life has a story to show.
If you fail to seek, then you fail to grasp,
Left alone, with only yourself to clasp.

If you hide yourself away, you shall surely never be found,
But exposure leads to wonder, where only the ground may bound.
If everything you discover, you analyze at first glance,
You shall be but another actor, on this stage, the world, to dance.

Tayn Vammuf Fydlran,

Mystery is probably the first word that comes to mind, but that is most likely only because you interest me. I rarely am unable to grasp an object I am compelled towards, and thus am baffled by your nature. An aura of mystique completely shrouds you, and hides any real clues as to what you truly want the most. There is wisdom in your years, as there are in mine. Believe it or not, in a way you are quite intimidating. Failure to produce anything that doesn't come truly from my heart in your presence afterwards leads me to guilt. I've no idea about those normal aspects of your life, but I do not need them to know who you are. It would be absolutely worthless for me to wish for your happiness, because you don't need me to. Such is the confidence I have in your ability to always fight the right battles, with your own moral strategies. You have been a good friend at times when there was no one else. You have seen me at my rock-bottom, yet did not save me, because you knew it would make me stronger. You instead encouraged me, and in the end, I am forever grateful.

**This is a prose I promised to write someone, whether they remember it or not. The title is to be translated using a method only given to the subject of the poem.

Perfect!

There are things that you wish to alter,
There are things that you define.
Attempt to change, and you will surely falter,
But acceptance leads to the sublime.

For a perfect person to me, you see,
Is one filled with imperfection.
The best is something they will never be,
And to excellence they are an insurrection.

Plastic surgery makes me sick,
Love the body God gave you.
If we were meant to choose and pick,
What - if anything - is true?

Be proud of yourself,
with all your pimples and moles,
And every other piece of you,
beautiful and whole.

Do not be a fool,
Simply accept your true self.
Your body is a wondrous tool,
Not dishonestly-earned pelf.

Who cares what other people think,
Who cares what they desire?
Bend to their whims, and you shall sink,
Is such to which you aspire?

Inspired Writing

Imagine, for a moment, that there exist in the world thousands of you. Within the depths of the minds of many individuals of this world, exist interpretations of who you are as an individual. Some of these may be ill-informed, such as a person you may have met while having a bad day. Yet those thoughts of those closest to us can interpret most correctly who we are as people. Parents, family, and close friends, all have a very good view of the type of person that we have allowed ourselves to become by being shaped by the world, environment, and people around us. We exist in their minds as a person which may or may not be what we view ourselves as. We may exist in the minds of some as compassionate and patient, and in others as ruthless, yet decisive. These interpretations that hundreds and thousands of people hold of us are important in defining who we are as an individual.

At the same time, we exist as individuals within the minds of those who exist within us. Simply put, we influence others by how they analyze our Selves within them, and at the same time, they have a Self which exists within our own minds. If we can study the mind of a person based on what perceptions we have gathered from them, then our minds are essentially able to in a sense exist within that person. In a way, others' views and interpretations of our Selves are all united and tied together, as a collective figment of the type of person we embody. How we carry ourselves in the world, and how we allow ourselves to be seen, is important, because each and every day you are sharing yourself with greater forces, which shape who you are in respects to the environment, to others, and most importantly, to yourself.

Finding which of these interpretations is the True You is a task which involves synthesizing all of the collective figments which exist in the world, and analyzing that data within your own Self, in an attempt to locate what it is that you truly wish for the most. Within your Self there exists many different Selves which are independently capable of obtaining the Truth depending on their varying perceptions. Any faults that exist within you that you wish you could remedy, are able to be cured with that knowledge. Locating these is often times a taxing endeavor, and it is imperative to fully realize the importance of coming to terms with the type of person that you truly are, in combination with the type of person you portray yourself to be. If you do not stay True to your Self, and you do not portray to the environment and to the world populace the specific variety of individual you wish to be, then you shall never fully realize your greatest dreams, wishes, and happiness.

You are never anything but yourself, and that is always enough. You are never completely alone, as long as the ability to realize your multiple Selves exists. Your struggles will never be in vain, and your life will never lose meaning, so long as you hold this vital aspect of life in the highest regard. Love of your surroundings, love of others, and love of yourself, and the pursuit of which Self you project upon the world is the True One, and which are fake, are all things which will eventually lead to your ability to create a world in which the greatest rewards are always at the tips of your fingers.

I Don't Know You, But I Need You

I love the little things about you,
Your untidy hair at the start of a day.
You always present me something sweetly new,
And why I love them all, I cannot quite say.

When brushing your teeth, your beauty strikes me deep,
And when reading a book, your eyes I do adore.
From your daily plow I reap,
A thousand years of joy, and more.

Never stop being you, you are my lovely muse,
Who provides all my reasons to live.
Without you I would have nothing to lose,
Except a thousand years of love to give.

I love each and every thing you do,
For in your absence my heart cannot survive.
If I even think of life without you,
A Hell faces me, which I cannot contrive.

**This is to a special person I don't know yet.

Costs

Of all the things on our green Earth,
I wonder which thing has the most worth?
Is it the Lions and their pride?
Is it the men from which they hide?

I, too, have things, which I do fear,
Much like the Lions, and the deer.
My fear, although, is not of death,
It lives inside of all my breadth.

Everything, I know, comes at a cost,
And through my "gift" I find myself lost.
Expression through text, is the best thing of all,
For in my real life, I am surrounded by a wall.

They say it is easy, just be who you are,
Yet being myself, has never gotten me far.
I write with my heart, yet live with my brain,
Unable to find balance, my soul turns insane.

Obstacles every day, which people take for granted,
Over them, I stumble and fall, as if the world was slanted.
What may not be a big deal to you, I assure you is to me,
Each day I try to fight back, struggling to break free.

Nothing is perfect, and each good thing has a bad,
A measure of extreme joy, is also a measure of the sad.
I don't suppose I can have both, so therefore will not ask,
Here I shall remain, in my own selfish glory to bask.

Child, Why Do You Cry?

Child, why do you cry?
For what reason is this sorrow?
I tell the truth, I cannot lie,
Of your life an Angel would borrow.

I see clear, and from what I see,
There is a person full of heart.
I don't know, what you wish to be,
Only yourself, if you were smart.

Cry on now, don't stop 'til the sun,
Go on 'til your heart is dry.
Tomorrow I can promise you fun,
For I tell the truth, I cannot lie.

Go forth, your happiness awaits,
Alone on your shoulders it rests.
Slowly your sadness will surely abate,
And rid you of the knot in your chest.

**One of my personal favorites

Who Cares...?

I don't know why I wrote this. It isn't my opinion, and it isn't my attitude about life. It really doesn't reflect how I feel at this point in my life at all. I just kind of...wrote it. I think it's good to try and imagine how other people often view the world, and there are some people who view the world this way.

"You're not important. No one really cares about you. You're a grain of sand thrown in to the ocean, and you are going to be swept along without any way to stop it. You don't have to be ugly on the outside. You know you're ugly on the inside. So you hide yourself from others, afraid that anyone you let in will witness the horrors of your soul and run away. You disgust yourself to the point of suicide, but each time you stop one foot from the edge of the cliff, or one inch from the veins on your wrist. You fall in and out of love in seconds, and your spontaneous temptations lead you to live a life of on-and-off insanity. You look for meaning where none exists, and you contemplate possibilities which haven't presented themselves yet. You often confuse love and hate to the point where those closest to you end up getting hurt the most, like the fine line between genius and insanity. Your talents seem useless, and your skills do not exceed the boundaries of ordinary. Your existence is temporary and insignificant to the universe. Your life will mean nothing in one hundred years, but you trick yourself in to trying to last that long anyway. Float on, little grain. Perhaps one day you will find a shore to rest upon for eternity."

It's Always There

The sun shines bright today,
Down upon my face.
The air I breathe is especially crisp,
With a freshness I can taste.

Oh, the flowers, they bloom,
Rich of color and smell.
The clouds drift so lazily,
At them I can't help but yell.

Smiling faces, in happy places,
People travelling to and fro.
Behind each of them, quite unknown,
Is something hiding in the shadow.

Invisible and persistent,
It shall never perish or die.
Rather, it shall follow them,
For on it we all rely.

You will greet this force,
When you draw your final breath.
And then together, holding hands,
You will walk with your Death.

Chicas

The first, and most important,
Is the one who cares for me the most.
My entire life I have known her,
And thus her and I are close.

However the love that we share,
Comes from being one and the same.
We grew up together,
On the streets of Memory Lane.

The second is another close one,
Yet in many ways far apart.
I have seen her ten to twenty times,
And care for her with my heart.

The third came as a shock,
For she was the first of her kind.
She taught me things about myself,
And most deeply affected my mind.

The third is not like the first or second,
She acted upon her choice.
She chose of her own free will,
And to her I could use my voice.

The fourth is wild,
And perhaps not the best match.
But nonetheless she showed me,
That I was not that bad of a catch.

The fifth is very dark,
And with her there was a lie.
Of all the ones I loved her the most,
Yet wish my memories of her would die (no I don't).

From first to fifth,
they all exist,
And I wish them joy that will soar,

I wonder who might be the next,
If they are like the rest,
Or if I will love them more.

**This was just a poem about some people I've met within my life. Some are family, and the others are friends. No "significant others" are portrayed in this poem.

Finding Purpose

I think that one of life's greatest mysteries is when a human being attempts to discover what is their purpose of existence. There comes a point in every person's life when they ask themselves if they are important at all, and ponder whether or not they matter in the grand scheme of the universe. We all wonder, whether in the years of puberty, or the age of retirement, for what specific purpose we as humans were placed here on the planet Earth. Several questions arise when attempting to discover our purpose. The first, is 'Who will be affected by my purpose?'. The second, is 'How will my purpose help to better the world?'. The third, and most important of course, is 'How do I find out my purpose?'. Let us look at these three questions in further detail.

The first question, 'Who will be affected by my purpose?', can be answered easily enough. Anyone who is attached to you through friendship, caring, and love. These can be people you have perhaps never met before. These can be people you will meet with in twenty years, and who with at the moment you are oblivious. If you were to ask me: 'Will you love your future wife?', the answer I would give of course, would be yes. However, if I do not know my future wife - how can I make such a statement? What if I have met this person already, and am unaware that in the future our paths will intertwine? It is not only a matter of who you love at this moment, on this day, in this universe. It is also a matter of every single person you will come to love and share your life with for the duration of your existence. Those are the people who will be affected by your purpose in the world. In turn, it is my belief that your purpose will affect them, and their purpose will affect you, and you will both share what you have gained from the other with everyone else in your life.

The second question asks 'How will be purpose help better the world?'. Millions of people go through life, and the majority of it is spent working to support a family, or working to support themselves. Many people go through eighty or more years simply existing and surviving. There is a distinct difference between living and existing. Living is contrived of the things in life which change people forever, including their outlooks on life. While not everyone may become a Gandhi, Mother Teresa, or Jesus Christ, we can, within our own social contacts, spread wisdom and knowledge we have obtained throughout our life. It is my belief that any goodness you can spread, any joy that you can share, and any happiness that you can cause, helps to better the world. Yes, you are but one individual of billions, but remember, you can make a difference even by making one person smile throughout the day. One such simple connection can make a link of love (albeit a very small one), and such links are what connect people to a greater force and power which I believe is the driving force of the universe.

Finally, we come to the conclusion. 'How do I find my purpose?' is the most important question of all. People sometimes spend their entire lives attempting to figure out for what reason they were created. The most important thing to note is that depending on where you are born, and depending on what kind of life you are handed (because I assure you they are all vastly disparate) your purpose will automatically differ. That is not to say that you have a pre-determined purpose, or that you cannot shape and mold your purpose in to whatever you wish. For that, is exactly the belief which I believe to be true. Your purpose, my friend, is whatever you wish it to be. If you wish to be a messenger of kindness and goodness throughout the world, then you may be one. If you wish to be a reporter of love, and teach thousands of people that they contain within themselves the potential, the motive, and the willpower to achieve what their hearts desire, then you may be so. All it takes is a strong sense of heart, and an even stronger sense of self. Perhaps you will never know anyone in your life as well as you know yourself. And you should of course never love anyone (not even family or those joined in matrimony) more than you love yourself. This is the most important task that humans must execute at some point in their existence. They must all at some point come to the realization that you are the most important person to yourself, and that you alone have the choice of purpose.

Love

Perhaps the greatest force in our world is the power of Love. It is not controlled by anyone, and can wander freely on its own, fulfilling some people's greatest wishes, and leaving others in a desparate and bleak solitude. There exist many different types of love within our world. There exists the love members of a family can exhibit, the love that two romantic figures share, and the love that exists within the deepest parts of kinship. This writing portion will primarily cover the love exhibited between two people in the world, who by some twist of fate, manage to find one another in a world where companionship benefits those who wield it, and where a partner is often times the best remedy for any problem.

I believe that when two people fall in love, and I mean truly in love, a bond is created between the two which links them together in a web of understanding and passion. No empirical evidence exists to state how many of the married couples or life partners in the world are equipped with such love, however the figure I assure you is low. If you watch, you can see. It only takes but one pair of vigilant eyes and consistent watching to witness that the love between two people is not true, it is not pure, and it is not the highest potential love that can exist between two people.

It is not about finding the perfect person. There does not exist a perfect person for everyone in the World. Rather, you must find a person in your life who you feel a connection to - a mutual bond. This, in turn, will potentially grow, with much hard work, in to something which can then be considered love. Once this love is obtained, it is up to the two wielding it to cultivate it, to cherish it, and to treat it with such a delicacy, as if it is the last remaining life force of the entire planet. Love is too often times thrown around as if it were stable and unbreakable, when in actuality it should never be tampered or treated in such a way.

When two individuals fall in love, they must share a deep level of understanding, to the point where they are able to feel for themselves their particular partner's emotions. If their loved one is in distress, then they are too, for they are both one in the same person. Happiness between them is exuded forth from their hearts, and it spreads between the two, an unconquerable sensation of eloquence and beauty. The smile of one, forces a smile upon the other, and the tears of one, strike compassion in the heart of the other. Without such caring, and without such a level of understanding and care, the optimal level of love cannot, and will not exist.

The most important thing to notice about such love with another person, is that you should never seek it. It does not hide from you, and thus you should not try and look for it. It will present itself when the time is right, and you will be given the opportunity to obtain it, to grasp it with all of your being, and allow it to synthesize with your soul, to create something which every person longs for: love.

Love, of course, can be lost, like all things in life. Losing love is perhaps the greatest tragedy which can befall a human being. The heartbreak and pain accompanied with such an event often times causes some people to never love again. However, each heart has the capability within it to heal, over time, with the help of friends and family. The experience of love - the saying 'tis better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all' - is something which every person should have the opportunity at some point in their life to have as their own. Whether from a mother, a father, a brother, a sister, a pet, a friend, or a partner, love will always exist within this world. It will spring upon you when you least expect it, and you will be in such a surprised state, that you will not take time to think, but simply be swept in to the flow which each day carries people to and from one thing to the next - and before you know it - you, too, will be in love.

At The Moment

It's not that I don't want to talk to you,
Or that I wish you were someone else.
It's my own shyness and insecurities,
Which prevent me from sharing my self.

Like one of those treasure boxes,
Sought after from every thieves' lair.
And when you open it, you only find,
The treasure are the friends who helped you there.

I may not be what you expect,
But I respect you all the same.
For deep down is the knowledge,
That I was not born to acquire such fame.

Please utter a simple few phrases,
To remind me that I'm not alone.
And keep me alive,
And out of a world of my own.

If I shall, and can, and will,
Then perhaps one day I will confess to you [the reader],
And pour from my soul the words,
And give birth to friendship anew.

I will love you before I meet you,
Because universal love must remain strong,
And we all must love one another,
In order to create Heaven, and her throng.

Change

It destroys what you have
built within yourself,

and rampages through
barricades which you once
thought protected you.

It comes without warning,

and abruptly throws your
life in to chaos.

It breaks every conventional
rule of what you perceive to
be normalness,

and hands you a new agenda
which you must live by, or
suffer by.

It can be conquered with a
strong will,

and the help of friends.

It separates your mind's
ability to cope and to hope,

and leaves you wishing for
solace.

It can destroy confidence
and individuality,

and leave its host feeling
insignificant and saddened.

Worst of all, It can strip
you of your ability to reach
your spirit,

and leave you empty.

Because of it, often times
there exists no Ghost within
the Shell.

Lost and Found

In a little over a day,
I will find myself returning.
To where my dreams await,
Desparate and ever-yearning.

Unfamiliar faces,
in unfamiliar places,

With Doubt ruling over me.

Stand strong and yell,
or cower and cry,
Be brave and fight, or
wear the Mask of the Shy.

Leaves change color,
Then fall to the ground.
Falling is not an option,
For I may never be found.

Thinking leads to Doubt,
And Doubt leads to shame.
And my overpowering thoughts,
Only my heart can fathom to tame.

My heart has been soothed,
In these past three weeks.
Tension on the horizon,
I wonder when it will breathe again.

Shedding my old life,
And creating a new.
Going back I am just a baby,
And it is all because of you.

Religous Beliefs

At this point in my life I do not believe in God or the Devil. Well, I do believe that at the Beginning of Time there existed a Creator of supernatural powers which started a chain of events or creations which have since undergone their own specific changes which has led to the present state of the universe. If thousands of people witnessed Jesus Christ's miracles and heard his teachings, then how can they be false? If thousands of people believe in Buddha's spiritual visions, than how can they be wrong? If thousands of people believe they can reach paradise by sacrificing themselves in the World, how can they be wrong?

Let's face it. Somebody is wrong. The question therefore, is "Does it really matter?". Does it matter that some people in this world are living false hope and putting their faith and living their lives in complete lies with what actually happens to them after they pass on to the spiritual realm (if it does indeed exist?). Fascination with Death comes from the fact that it is completely unknown what it exactly is to anyone in the living realm. If it helps people to live their lives with more happiness, then I suppose that religion is a good thing. I suppose that the power to drive people to be motivated and be more selfless is good, even if it is a lie.

Personally, I understand the fact that thousands of people die each die, and realize that each day more and more people are moving away from our living realm in to something different, or perhaps nothing at all. Do not criticize others for their spiritual or religious views, because you can not prove them wrong. I am not religious, although I enjoy partaking in religious conversation and discussion (debate at times, even though that can turn quite crude). If devoting your life to Jesus Christ as your savior helps you maintain a life that will ultimately support a family or friends, or help you live day to day, then I say Congratulations and wish you a good life. But myself? I'm one of those people who realize that anyone can be right, so the point in trying to figure out who is right is quite moot.

Thus I attempt (and admittedly sometimes fail) to live my life as if it is the only one I will ever have. Death is an interesting concept in dealing with religion because many people devote themselves to a religion for fear of what will happen after they die. They are afraid that their souls/beings will not remain in permanence, but rather may perish underground and never again be able to experience or touch or feel. Breathing, talking, experiencing, and countless other everyday activities are taken for granted by people who experience them each day. Always remember that your right to live could possibly be taken away at any moment. If given the chance to evaluate yourself seconds after Death, and judge whether or not you have done things correctly or how you wanted before you passed on from the living realm, would you be happy with your results?

Do not perish in to the Death, the eternal land of unknowing, without confidence that you have done as much as you possibly could within the living realm, because that may very well be the only realm you will ever have existed.

Self Prophecy

The concept of self-prophecy, in my eyes, can be described as complete and total control of one's life. The fortelling of future events in a life from outside forces are innately moot, for the existence of will and self cannot be fortold or conquered by any combination or mixture of outside entities.

Take, for instance, a New Years resolution. What makes this resolution any different than one decided upon in the middle of July, on a rainy weekend in August, or a cold and lonely Wednesday in February? The passing of a new year does not bestow upon us neither the willpower nor courageousness to fulfill our plans for self improvement. Our goals to lose weight, make more friends, take part in a relationship, or exercise more, all stem from desires our emotions and thought pressure upon us. Yet our actions are where these schemes become fruition, and without the proper ingredients, your weight loss diet or exercise plan will falter after a few days to a week.

Self-prophecy is a concept in which one discovers that they have the power within themselves to shape and mold their own lives in such a fashion that their destiny is whatever they want it to be. Their life is a ship (the self), in an endless sea (the world), with no particular destination (life's destiny). The direction of the ship (self-prophecy) can be decided upon, but whether or not the ship moves (fulfillment) is dependant upon the actions of the captain of the ship (the self). When a person discovers that they can aim their ship in any direction they choose, they are encountered with a world of endless possibilities, where each action can provide a separate outcome. Perhaps it is easiest to define self-prophecy as the willpower to do anything and everything that a person's heart desires. It is not needing the passing of a New Year to lose weight. It is grabbing the wheel of the ship that is our lives, and aiming it in what our hearts tell us is the correct direction, and then powering that ship with our own confidence and abilities.

The constant search of complete self-control can lead a person to miss out on many wonderful opportunities life has to offer. It is fairly easy to get sucked in to a situation where you are unable to not only take control of your direction, but also lose the motivational power needed to excel.
In short, the constant efforts of defining ourselves must be done with the knowledge that the task differs for each and every person.

The ability of the self to accomplish the task of self control and self prophecy is an ongoing endeavor. The majority of people will never achieve the final product, yet however not everyone was meant to. There are some individuals, some astounding individuals, who are completely lost within themselves at times in their life that the concept of self direction seems impossible. It is at this time in that person's life that they must re-prioritize what matters most to them, and discover for themselves, how to start sailing their ship, and which direction to head in to the endless sea.