As it is . . .
I'm a poet at best, another artist of love.
My heart's an open book;
I paint with colors of the sun.
It’s the kind of song that makes you move and forget about your feet. Those words that awe and soothe; lips forgetting how to speak.
I want to write beautiful lyrics to complete a musical piece.
i may not have ideal auditory vocals, but I have a voice that you can hear with your eyes, that echoes throughout our shared mind.
I have so much combustion inside,
begging for release in the formation of expression.
Building up and dying down like the mysteries of gravity behind the ocean’s waves.
The roller-coaster is my permanent ride. The definer of my life.
And up it climbs and down it falls.
Free in the whim of momentum.
Waiting to crash in the intimate collision with the solid matter of ground.
I don’t really know what’s going on half the time, while I’m flying trough the clouds composed of my quantized thoughts.
The scenes flash by with ever countable moment of motion, with ever flash of form and color.
And I am here.
As me.
Breathing and being and setting a rapid beat to my heart as I weigh the mental considerations of existing at all.
Still wondering why?
Why am I here and who I am really?
Beyond my human nature, beyond my name and vesseled body, who am I?
Because I know I’m more than just who I am.
You wouldn’t really understand.
No one really does and no one really will.
And what’s most absurd is that you all already do.
So I’m just living.
Reaching for the sun’s warmth and gazing at the nights brightness.
Finding meaning in the painting of nature’s every present breathe.
Blinking a new scene of life with ever waving lash.
My heart is amid a world of chaos.
But my lover is still the one I want, regardless of the obstacles, the fears, and the doubts.
The companions I find around me are all lovers, too. They are intimate fellows in this game who I have found the joy of smiling with. Of joking and laughing and living; sipping from the same humorous cup of whatever metaphorical situation you can compare it to.
A great toast to you all.
The souls of the world are becoming very visible to me. The love is returning from its shadows of seeming invisibility.
I do not know what the hell is going on, with life and love anything else.
Even a scientist can’t really explain it enough, can’t really grasp it.
Even the wisest man who never feels the need to burden his mind beyond what it can’t see.
But I do know that we all share the same silent answers. None will ever quite know for sure what the hell this really is. What this life really means behind personal definition.
You’ll never love yourself half as much as I love you.
I’m the type of lover
that leaves you wondering
where in the world I could ever be
years and years later
after we’ve parted our ways.
Perhaps the insane are those who have sought to find answers that are “insane” or unscientifically answerable in quesion? The origion of thought, the meaning of life, the war between faith and science… the search for truth beyond what opinion creates.
These are the things, the explanations that can not be explained by the logical human mind, that declare life itself as someting unable to be understood, as something i n s a n e in itself.
