Mystic flux

And I lay there fetal, unable or unwilling to move I embraced and isolated myself Unaware, I cradled the negative and kept it close to my core Where are the answers? How did I not see this? What comes next? Move, work, try, accomplish, Words, thoughts, reality Cogito Ergo Sum

Sun dappled desk, bare trees blowing in the breeze Clouds racing across blue sky take pause to loose great flakes upon the day Outside the world lives on, unencumbered by my torment, unaware of this lament What can I learn form this awareness that I've come to? Live on, live on and prosper, there is no alone despite the way it seems Write, work and continue to search for the light.

The days weigh heavy upon the truth or the truth weighs heavy upon my days Perceived or felt or more likely imagined perhaps all three It matters little because reality is what is perceived and time has shown the truth as so Cogito Ergo Sum And so it is that I sit and write, back again to exercise my ghosts alone Funny though, my ghosts have had more than their fare share of exercise of late, Trying as best they might to seal my fate. The thread of life, the fabric that I've weaved to a tapestry of time hangs before me Reality, it seems, has loosed it's moths upon my cloth and now for all to see Ragged and rough and keeping within but for this little window cry for thee To soldier on I must and each day that has a little light, a few small steps to keep me on my way

Today is the day, to go or to stay To be or be not in time you will see You must be alive and always to strive Life's what you make it so surely you'll thrive!

Breath in the positive, it surrounds you Let it wash out the negative it suppresses you Strength is internal, the answers are there Trust and faith in the direction chosen Reality is current and the future unwritten Some things cannot be changed and some must be The choice is to continue or..... There is no option, Failure is to give up, success it persevere Lead by example and overcome Imagination is a double edged sword

Arms wrap around, sinking into warmth Safe harbor from the storm of life Brief respite from the strife None can harm me when I'm here The world endures it's own temult Endless, senseless, the assault Dreams have come and dreams have gone Dispersed in time by what is real All is gone of former zeal The road ahead lays cloaked in mist The goal it seems is out of reach With heart and soul I do beseach So much I want to stay right here Search do I, search anon For strength of will to carry on

This is what started it all, just in case you were wondering, we discovered the leftovers from Nuit Blanche with a pile of books that had not seen the light of day since the separation. Not sure how old they are, my guess would be 2008, that was during the first break and the beginning of the long and winding road that seems to have no end. The hills are steep these days so it's nice to remind myself that there were times when the end was within my grasp, the distance to the goal does not change, merely your perspective makes it seem farther. This was my guerrilla poetry, printed on cards and handed to random strangers in the middle of a dark cold night. Most assumed it was an ad and flipped it over searching for the closer only to be forced to wrap their mind around the unfamiliar concept of poetry for the sake of poetry. It was a great satisfaction, among the big budget of high brow art and influence, to find my own niche and make my statement whispered in the brisk November wi...