Set free ...

I took a spear
brought it close behind my ear
with all might I throw it ahead
the image, in the mirror
shattered into pieces
the person in it
was not me
but an illusion
dies in my dreams

I wanted to break free
run from this restriction
from the projections
what I am, what I should be...
how to stand, loved, hated
in those minds I am but a ploy
no more no less a reflection
depends on which way light beams towards my limp
what frame of minds cast over in their glances
who I am changes in their perceptions
the sinister, the noble, the devil, the angel
whatever they wanted to make me
so be it

Still, I am breaking free
away from reflections
of conceptual believes
there is no place to stay
mirrors, people held before themselves
while hide beneath and they peep
at you, they see their own glory or sin
at you, they sabotage or rescue their "me"
it's no place to rest and be

Now, here you are
your eyes blazing at me
seeing through walls of my skin
see me bare... without anything
not my race gender nation or age
you gaze at a soul purely as it is
whether perfect or blemished
kissable or unbearable me
isn't your evaluating scheme
neither wrinkled or flawless
crippled or complete
matters not,
it is me.

standing before you
I illuminate
and finally
I was set
free

Maturity of masculine divine !

... and with that i leave you a kiss...
(watching history channel about the 10 commandments and postitution as hospitality...
interesting....) ~ rosie ~1538

And with that i leave you a kiss
of sincere affectionate just
gratitude of being loved and cared
as something and someone real
while fleeting lust fail to live
here we were naked in soul
freed from physical cage
finally you see I am equal

rolling stones skeleton bones...

... the things we have in common ~ Rasko ~ 1535

The things we have in common
often over looked with indifferences
world is divided under hands
whom wish to be worshiped& rule
voices of power hunger speaks
seeking allies in spilling toxic
always stirring something stronger
tormented minds suffers
in unforgiving hatred
blood shed and lives torn
rolling stones skeleton bones
till the end of life we turn cold
all fragile and sacred
somehow we can be so blind
to forge the heaven within
as if we were addicted ..
to what griefs

Epos

A man who stands for protection of innocence
while gazed into fragility of pure
untouched by seduction or weakness
as of more ordinary majority
whom waft with heartless desires

Thus he a hero of refined grace

The man who looks beyond pleasure, lust
rests his sword of truth beside skulls of decadent remains
Is one who walks beside the Father of eternity

Thou ~ of soul and immortality

Note:
an old one, it's hard to say what inspires me, 
perhaps an inner search for a hero of myth.
perhaps my perception and experiences...
makes me think of majority of man are weaker,
which all together invokes my wonder, 
about the true aspect of what masculinity stands.

drain...

... watching hope run down the drain ~ Rasko ~ 690


Watching hope run down the drain
the will of man claims to rein
all being given from heart of our soul father
nothing can be diminished in vein

conscious collide of egotistic gain
is what brought upon our pain
our certain faith in the unfaithful damn
became the crippling trips to our legs

Words...

Poets.
mother and father of silent voices
portray artists of emotional images
Yet,
those poetic life was not owned
each given word of those lyrics
leads a new meaning
in the interpreter's mind ...

Leave behind...

...is to give the world greatest in what's left behind ~ BT ~ 676

To give the world greatest in what's left behind
unquestionably how a mankind be defined
to his/her legend till the eventful glide
what's left behind
with his/her name by side
I want to leave something beautiful to time even just a small dim light ...

that glows in darkness when we cry

13.Nov.2010 Day

bluebird-on-a-limb ~ CheyAnne Sexton

 A beautiful sunny day, the kind of day makes everything seem alright, whether it is or not no longer the matter. Dreams last few days was vivid while it lasted, although I've entered bed at late hours, with enthusiastic 4 years old R chirping early in the morning, surprisingly the few hours was enough. Children has a infectious way of looking towards a brand new day, a brand new mission, or just the brand new moment... 

Remembering times in my life when each day was my new birth, everything is so exciting and alluring, after  that long winter,  swamp of cold deprivation... suddenly I allowed each night to be the sudden death of to all that of my... went into dreamland just as if life left... I guess I had enough. Once I woke to the call of light, like a new baby,  came with new birth, new life, everything was seen with peculiar delight. perhaps I made a decision not to be drawn, perhaps somehow I was awake from self made paradox of pain... each day was a delicious treat... It lasted as long as I kept my heart pure and free ...

Of illusions.

Men

Like other men
well, at least 66% of them
I drift in empty desolate
presumably tolerant to the mechanical frame
whatever keeps volunteering senses on hold
no question nor objection are enrolled
what does it mean to stand in time as a man
a question seldom in contemplate

photo by: mhoffman1