The cold is creeping as the flowers start to grow thanks to a weeping sky that often never lets up Yet the shy sun peeks eye intent then runs away as the clouds fly and dissipate their desires and the flowers grow as the cold still creeps.
Warmth rides the skin, plays with it, hugs the soul, the world sees potential in the what-if, but the cold creeps into their bones as they grab and hold tight to frayed blankets full of holes But the flowers are growing, can you see the buds, the ground birthing green?
Many beautiful rich colors to come even if the bold cold wishes to persist.
I have met them,
The, I am Rights,
They give you a sidelong
glance and a chuckle
as you present
the realness
of you and of them,
of feelings simply
felt with no malice.
Yet they seem to be
able not to respond
with a kind word, but
they instead double down
in their derision.
It’s as if they have
already made up
their mind of what they
will say before you
ever uttered a word.
I am sorry the world
broke you.
I am sorry life can’t
be a perfect scenario.
I am not your keeper
I can’t heal what is
broken in you.
That’s on you.
I can listen though, I can learn
I can open my own heart
So I in turn can
see the rights and wrongs
of it all in your world
and you can perhaps see mine
too.
We slave to have everything,
we fight the world for “ours”,
we strive for perfection,
we seek a look of a dream
that shimmers and undulates
from a hot arid
plane
at the edge
of a horizon
containing all our fears and doubts
This seeming perfect way
of anything is bullshit
it’s just bullshit
everyone thinks they’re better than the other
vanity abounds as pride flattens them
under the gravity of their
making
always pushing, and pushing
down, down, down.
Their way is the best way, cant you see?
And if you can’t, well sorry, you are just
not as cultured as them.
There are no gray areas, only
high contrasts and muted voices
in a bubble.
Light and dark
banging against the other
until all the world
goes mad
held tight in a bright white straight jacket
in a dark as pitch
padded room.
See the animal in his cage that you built
Are you sure what side you’re on?
Better not look him too closely in the eye
Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?
See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs
Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it’s all right where it belongs
What if everything around you
Isn’t quite as it seems?
What if all the world you think you know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is it all you want it to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks
Would you find yourself find yourself afraid to see?
What if all the world’s inside of your head?
Just creations of your own
Your devils and your gods all the living and the dead
And you really oughta know
You can…
I see you World…and I know you see me “write” back. Sometimes I am overwhelmed by the stories I run into out here with the bits and bytes that float by from point A to point B. They just floor me. They either entertain me, touch me, inspire me, teach me, piss me off, or just plain give me a since of camaraderie to the world at large.
Some critics think it’s a colder world socially we live in because its become impersonal, or too sterile in the way we socialize with all the texting, blogging,facebooking, and twittering we do.
I have met people from just around the corner to halfway around the world that I would never have met without this little invention called the computer.
The current population of the world is approximately at 7 Billion and climbing at a net growth of 200,000 new people per day on this Earth…I say those numbers alone could make it a pretty impersonal world to start with. Now imagine if we didnt have computers to connect in some way to those 7 Billion. Imagine if the word computer wasn’t in the dictionary, and that this wonderous machine I’m now typing on didn’t exist.
I wouldn’t have met a funny witty honest little girl named Amna, from Pakistan who showed me the best and brightest is yet to be for the younger generation just now starting to take hold in this world
OR a guy named Seth from PA, USA who has faced adversity from the moment he was born which he continues to struggle with to this day but can still smile and find humor in life and inject that same feeling just by his very spirit and vitality into all his blogs on entertainment, life and love.
There is a woman who lives in Tasmania, who’s never known anything but her small little isolated world on a small island just south of Australia. She’s a writer named Megan Sayer who plans on fulfillng her lifelong dream of taking a trip to the United States and visit a dear friend that she met online through her blogging. She has many spoken and unspoken fears but she’s learning to face them head on and challenge herself on an almost daily basis.
There is a woman , a writer who blogs who goes by the name Stella Marr….who lives in New York City , who was stuck in a world of prostitution, violence, and outright slavery for ten years who climbed out and turned a corner in her life where so few don’t or can’t in that life. Now she inspires, informs, and sets the record straight about the misconceptions of sex trafficking of girls and women all across the world.
Then there’s Christian Mihai, a young writer in Romania, a young man with a passion and intelligence for all things. He’s driven, he’s creative, he’s inquisitive, he’s profound, he’s inspiring. He fuels me to be better, to think. Throw away my vanity and just be a student of life and learn my craft as a writer.
Finally, there’s Goregirl, what can I say about her. She knows what she loves and pursues it. An officiando on everything Horror if you couldn’te tell by her blog name. She’s a workhorse for her blogspost…constant, thorough, steadfast, and committed to her followers and her reviews. She has focus. Like an arrow being shot from a bow to hit dead center.
Stories of hardships,abuse,triumphant,being steadfast or driven in anything you love and believe in, showing courage against overwhelming odds. These are stories, these are lives which I recognize. These are people I wish to know. These are people I wish to be. These are people I admire. These are people I wish to write about.
Ain't no rest for the Wicked - Philip Wardlow - The real and the sensual sides to life in all its facets.. 