a web

a web

A web
high in a tree
the morning sun
takes it from me
For hours at night
it spun through my mind
Came sunshine
it left me behind

The web
silver and gray
like my hair
but thinner today
and fading away
Left by the creator
a remnant hangs on
Now a few strands
later its gone

The web
there it was, really,
but nothing remains
The sun came and took
My mind had a look
Gone in the flames
What was its name?

A web
perfect, with purpose
Like all creation
living with anticipation
Returns back to source
when the light calls
Begins a new circle
of cause

The web
like silk in the air
on finest of threads
hardly it’s there
like thoughts
in my head

A web
came to be
for reasons evading me
Like the vision
creating derision
amongst those
that hear my decision
of wanting to maybe not be

The web
attached with the glue
of belief
A wind blows to test
but it cannot undo
Even in grief
it knows what to do

A web
perfect in every way
Forgotten in time
after only a day
Forever, a concept,
hard to comprehend
Found in the secret code
of the moment

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just a drop of your tear

I know you are always closer than near
and you left
not because you didn’t want to be here
you were taken

Loveless my world turned gray and cold
I was bereft
A void filled with tears I could not hold
I was shaken

Forever you are gone I was told
Eternally, forever, that is what I hear

Your laughter and gaiety in my soul made a mark
that’s why it is so terribly hard
Your love and your touch I will always remember
Caring and giving and loving
you were my earliest mentor

Then pain and rivers of tears eroded my joy
It hurt and it punished, relentless
It meant to destroy

Alone and astray I walked over thorns in my life
I once had a heart but it was cut with a knife
No reason or answer will ever make sense
That hole you left in my life is immense
I bleed and I cry but don’t show it anymore
knocked down on my knees, devastated on the floor

Wherever you are and whatever you do
for me only one thing is truer than true
Wretched with pain from the hell I’ve been through
I wonder, do you miss me like I miss you?

Give me one drop of your tears to behold
One piece of your pain so that I know
Tell me you haven’t forgotten after so many years
that I am yours and now I can also find peace

All that I am and whatever things I do
When all is lost and I lie crashed without a clue
Miles from nowhere, remote and out of reach
My world concussed and I have lost my speech
High on a dune with the wreckage tossed
Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of you
I see someone with their hand held out
“Come hither,” I hear through my desperate shout
“I’ll save you, any time at any cost”

Just a drop of your tear I wish I could touch

Whoman He

I don’t know what and when
It is all hidden in my pen
Memories of forgotten days
are mixed with fears
of future’s ways

And even if the sun shines bright
I might not realize that it’s light
The darkness just like fire spreads
The night is glowing cold, the black I dread
This is the story of my plight

A mind so bent a crumbled string looks straight
Nothing, clueless, lost, I wait
Sometimes my dreams dream that I elevate
another force inside then subjugates
I’m told my worries are man made

The coffee cold, unshaven, and the purse deplete
A worn old shirt that screams of ironing that it needs
A figure sculpted by the thoughts the mind conjures
and by all events that life endures
Continuously I seek and seek

In this reality the hundred meters that I see
must stretch out of necessity
beyond that mark towards my ecstasy
unless I cannot choose my destiny
But, how then could I be me

Why am I stuck as if I’m planted like a tree
Forever in one place, I cannot flee
When I was born what words were put into my crib
“Go sail the seas but finally we sink your ship”
In the clouds I want to be eternally

A told me that I should be B
C told me that I should be D
Eventually then when I was E
They screamed and said I must be G
I turned around and went to P
Flashed them a sign reversed the T
Now I’m the Cuban Susans Whoman He
Nothing, clueless, lost without a key
I am sinking in some sea

To the water I will eventually return
Humans decided that I needed to burn
So hot even my soul in smoke evaporates
Escaping from these dire straits
I will not be put behind some other gates
Spill me, let me take another turn

 

quiet at the fifth

I am not irrelevant but I have no say
Life treats me like a fray
It slithers down my spine ice-cold
A cheek to be so bold

Like wind purges foliage off a tree
Your voice strips my soul from me
Raging in its force, shaking determinedly
A piece of wood without a fire I cannot be

Stormy clouds race north to south,
across the sky
Sunlight is your makeup, 
impermanence your high
Everyday you tell me that nothing stays the same
You are the background,
the thoughts I try to tame

Incubated into a form whose shape has adopted me
Parents, people, prophets, telling me who I should be
Unique my spirit lies within the egg of cause
A shape the universe has used with great applause
Behind the shell an artist draws,
a never-ending picture free of any laws

A hunger gnaws to make it work
that concept called the ‘living bit’
To find a way and have my say
without this lifelong thought-delay
And bring about a wonder-hit
Board that private pleasure-trip
A knowledge in the egg was heard.

Thinking, waiting, spellbound by time
An echo from the shell I hear
The caller only I can be
It’s not the answer,
so I think
To thought and waiting I return again
An echo from the shell I hear
Around in rhyme in time I be

Life, ever partially in some control
I’d be a liar claiming it's on a roll
or thinking that I have it taped
It blows with gale and sleeps with the wind
A male drugged by a penchant for the scind

Opposing forces and extremes attract
The teaching is amok, it is a fact
Eyes squinting through a frame and tint
find written on my comets trail a goal
and where I stand
in the context of the whole

Dreams, the unhatched eggs
Soul food as they nourish me
A potential waiting for the crack and light
Mostly they define past my reality,
and let me write
Unhatched hatching eggs with fantasy

Upright in the chair of thought
a string of time some questions brought
Five moments later as my breath abates
the quiet mind with picture waits.
  Underneath a story reads:
    Vision: hot air for the thought-balloon.
    Imagination: the ladder to the moon.

a Cyberian connection

I deny that you are not.
I agree that you are.

I have never seen you. I have never heard you.
You clearly are a Cyberian.
When I switch off my Cyberion (Mac), Cyberia is not.
Or not?

You are not.
I am not to you, and, you are not to me, anymore.

We are gone. But, we are not not.

By now I could say that I am not notting my notting-notting around some nottinghood.
Can you?
Well if you can, then we agree, else not notting.

Realia exists.
It’s our present whole real life.

Cyberia exists too.
It’s the cyber(ical) present.

That means that we exist in two ‘places’ at once. In Realia we exist in a biochemical way. What is the other? – – – cyberical cyberian way.

And I have an observation to share about these two realities.
Both exist. Realia and Cyberia.
And, wherever there are two of something, isn’t that an inherent proof that there can be more?
More realities. More Cyberias’ and Realias’. As many as we want there to be.
Not cloned realities. Not GMO realities. Realities fundamentally different from one another, like Realia is from its Cyberian counterpart.
Let’s premise for a moment that we can be a contrastingly different creation in Cyberia,
– would we then trend towards the schizophrenic-psychiatric ward in Realia?

Realia, Cyberia, – multitudinous behavior. We are only getting started.

Yet, I have never seen you. I have never heard you. It’s all been in Cyberia.
And you truly are. Aren’t you?

Maybe?
What?

Independent. Fast growing. Adapting. Changing. Cyberian.
I am. We are. It is. (The many presentations of us.)
Why be one?
What is normal?

Let me introduce myself.
I am, – hmm, er, ahem, huh, yeah – that I am.