Surfing Sometimes between A realization and consequence It gets confused Muddy Drift I drift Roll up on a wave Then gently submerge Just to roll up another wave Wise Men Old crusty dude Smoking a pipe Riding his bike Hauling ass Down 5th Avenue I find youth Seeing Old crusty dudes Riding bicycles While otherwise oddball Manuevers are acted out Untitled Dreamer girl How could you Possibly know that You do enough good Karma cannot be played Like a game. Be a being of love and light Is it so hard? Yes I know the same old rebuttal You can't help but be drawn To the dark It's like the nightmares Of a childhood You rarely think about anymore In which you (the protagonist in this cinematic process of innocent ego) Try vigorously to run From demons, monsters, and witches Just to find the very ground Begin to suck your feet in. Mostly at this point The dreamer girl wakes up But you, naive woman child Are mesmerized And so allow yourself to be drawn in. Exhilirating, isn't it? That rush of knowing Your Heart/Angel is Blasting it sirens at you Full volume, And choose to instead Pay attention to the Devil/Ego whispering Sweet little secrets in your ear. And finally my first haiku: I play here in fields Meant for the sly star children Wandering a dream
Wow. An anomaly has occured. I agree with kidder! and on untitled: There is a beauty in horror and a horror in beauty. And for those who have but the wit to apply the proper strategy, a transcendency, as of the manner by which the Shadow may Coalesce with the Light that projects it. Though how sure we can really be, that the Shadow does not project the Light.... eMBeMLaHV!
