uncertainty

Would I ever want to be sure
or can uncertainty be the more accurate guide
Can the knowing of one's not knowing
Provide the most precise of insights
Do we sometimes have to stand at the cliff
Or walk directly into the tide
Do we have to realize the wisdom in night
To identify which mountain to climb
As fear and darkness engulf us
distracting from our journey within
Can we look at doubts without prejudice
To get to the messages they carry with them
So really it may not be about being sure
About knowing without a doubt or a fear
But learning to look at the things they expose
And quieting down so their songs we can hear

My left or your left?

Is it even possible that there can be
A clarity tinged version of reality
That is not altered by perceptions or fear
by worry of what you think others will hear
or by worry of what you think others will say
or think as they look at you and then walk away
Can any set of eyes look at their surrounds
and not be deafened by their internal sounds
Seeing the world through experience shaped lenses
With all the information confused by five senses
Brains try to process and sort this all through
Emotions get stirred and logic tries to show its view
Where is this sixth sense, this compass of man
To cut through the thicket with clear, focused lashes
Creating a clearing to get a more precise vision
Of the road ahead with its twists and bends
Yet how does one expect to access this guide
Through distractions, detractions, and roaring of tides
This world does not offer many moments of silence
Moments to release our personal inner quiet
As life pulls us on roads that the noises have made
That fear of our own potential have helped to create
Is it not time to get our true self unlocked
To decide from that point which paths you should walk

Jillian and I are going to see if we can figure out how people can comment on this blog...let's see...

the ramblings of the lost and confused

How can I get through this...they say that people do.
Do they really, though? That would make me wonder
Did those that get through ever feel this much?
Did they know what it was like
To have time suspended
while in their lover's arms?
Did they know what it was like
To have their body respond
To a look from across the room?
Did they know what it was like
To feel anothers thoughts
To see the pain so deep in them
That you can feel the cuts?
Did they know what it was like
To dream of far off places
And then open your eyes and see them
Etched in your lover's face?
Could anyone possibly know
of slow and sweet and explosive passion
Of hands and mouths that know the other so well
That there are no words to capture the connection
Could anyone else really know what it is
to walk in silence and comfortable cadence
And know that the other's thoughts
While not exactly the same as your own
You know they dance in flawless rhythm.
Are there another two who have felt this?
This electricity charged pulsing of souls
This always wanting to be better for you and for them
And in their smile, you know that they know
Do any other two know
of safety and passion, of lusting and words
Sharing, exploring and seeing glorious new worlds.
Does anyone else know what its like
to fit with someone in all the right places
Then to have to cut these two apart
Because of surrounding faces.
Could anyone else possibly know
The depths of sorrow and fear and pain
To have to wake up and look into the eyes
Of an empty, bland world again
Great writers have said that its better
To have loved and lost than not to have loved
I cannot believe they felt the same as me
Or they wouldn't toss out fortune cookie words
For those who have got through this
I guess something worked for them
But I cannot see another side
To this dreary tunnel I am in
I might learn to disguise my pain
Wearing makeup to hide my scars
I will smile and laugh and it won't reach my eyes
I might even dress for this part.
For that is all it will be
A role I am playing
A mask I will keep in place
Why tear it off and expose what I've lost
To those who took it away
I'll be damned if I show someone else
The suffering that is cutting me
I'll be damned if I listen to false words and looks
Telling me this is not about me.
So precious were those powerful moments
That even in their death they'll be mine
Not ruined or cheapened by the empty faces
Who tell comforting lies.

She

Her smile is quick and brilliant
Her eyes have a seductive stare
Her hands can caress a body
In ways that create magic and dreams
But when your eyes open she might not be there.

Her body moves quickly and lithely
With a grace that cuts through the air
Her head tilts a bit when she listens
Her eyes flash when she's in the right mood
But when your eyes open she might not be there.

Decisive and sure are her footsteps
Of the community she wants to take care
Never forgetting herself in all this
She protects fiercely moments and connections
But when you open your eyes she might not be there.

What a glorious life might be led
With imagination and beauty as traditional fare
How can I capture the essence and keep it with me
So that when I look in the mirror
I could open my eyes and still see her there?

Death

Oh god I killed him
his eyes are empty and cold
his body is lifeless before me
the sun no longer turns his skin to gold
how could I have done this
torn him from my grasp
turned my back and faced the night
mumbling that this could not last
oh the wretched being I am
that nightmares are constructed of
horror tears through my veins
as i see the body draining of its lifeblood
tears threaten to drown my soul
my body sobs and quakes
i scream I did not mean it!
i know it is too late
realizing the punishment i'll have to face
the scars that are slicing deep
i turn to face my crime
this corpse in eternal sleep
when to my surprise i see him
scarred, but very much alive
confused, i look down and realize
the body on the floor is mine.