I think,
therefore I am.
False.
I do,
therefore I am.
Better.
I act,
therefore I am.
Because thinking
is only being still;
And being still,
you may as well be dead.
Thinking is not doing;
not acting.
To be human,
To be Alive,
is moving,
acting,
doing.

At night is when the sorrow comes
the loneliness, the fear.
It lingers in the shadows of taunting lamplit rooms
as you fight back every fear.

The darkness glooms, it penetrates
your soul from every side.
It creeps into each crevice, festers on your weakness
no matter how you try to hide.

An inescapable prison is the long
enduring night.
Breeding despair and anguish, sucking all that's left of hope
Leaving you too powerless to fight.

Night terrors rage upon you
in reckless, restless sleep.
Exhaustion overcomes you, draining body, mind, and soul
Black blindness in does seep.

The blackness begins to choke you,
the suffocating force.
It overwhelms and darkens,
beckoning your surrender to its course.

Phoenix Tears

(Another from my other blog. Found it today and was surprised at how applicable it is right now.)

Darkness engulfs you.

It is caving in on you.

The heaviness smothers you.

And in the darkest of darks

The blackest of blacks

Poof!

The phoenix bursts into flame.

And when you thought things couldn’t get any darker,

All hope is lost; all hope is gone.

Burnt, extinguished, charred.

All that’s left is ash.

Dull, gray soot in a heap on the floor.

The soot settles in the somber air.

And just when you think there will be no end to this despair;

That the dank and heavy darkness will overcome you,

The ashes stir.

And subtly they begin to take shape, a form.

A phoenix is reborn.

Out of the ash, a phoenix is reborn.

And in your darkest dark of nights

Your blackest black of storms

A brand new phoenix is reborn

He comes to you, he sheds a tear

It heals your wounds, your heart, your fear. 

(This appeared previously on my other blog, but I re-found it today and liked it, so I thought I'd post it here.)

Bursting with new life
Sunlight flickers it's soft hand
And smiles sudden warmth


Fragile floating blur
One gust of wind in the breeze
Vanishing to dust


Little girls twirl swirl
Spinning around, dresses fly
Blow, puff, make a wish

Stuck

One day we went to the fair.
Lights were flashing,
Music trinkled here and there.
Cotton candy poofs in the air.

Booths that proved a strong, courageous man
from a weak one lined the rows.
You proved yourself with the first hammer slam:
the button flew up with a whoosh, zoom, bam.

I decided to go on the ferris wheel;
Not sure what I was thinking.
Disillusioned by the lights, all was surreal.
For I've always hated ferris wheels.

I'm afraid of getting stuck at the top,
the cart swinging wildly in the wind.
No one there to make it stop.
The ground too far below to drop.

So up I went. Around and around.
Stuck in a circle
never looking down to the ground,
hoping that facing upward my fear would be drowned.

But I was stuck as could be.
Trapped alone on the wheel
spinning, spinning endlessly.
No where, no way to flee.
Wondering how I could fix me.

And where were you while I was stuck?
On the bumper cars
is where you tried your luck.
But everything just went amuck.

You were trapped in a corner against a wall.
Continuously ramming your car
into the very same stall,
not recognizing your own downfall.

You rammed and you slammed your car to and fro,
but stuck you remained
with no place to go
not forward nor backward and nothing to show.

There helpless you sat not wondering why,
not puzzled, not weary,
not willing to try.
Not thinking about what being stuck could imply;
Content just on sitting, watching people pass by.

In the beginning.

In the beginning we were

embarking on a journey.

A journey that would lead us

into thorns and briars

And sunbursts and cloudless skies.

We came.

We came willingly, longing to grow.

To become.

And so we started.

We commenced on this journey.

We met rocky paths and climbed

mountains.

We waded through mud.

We watched sunsets.

Slid down rainbows.

Jumped in puddles

And were blown in the wind.

Some days we grew.

Some days we died.

Some days we felt we were

trapped in a never-ending cycle.

A circle that neither begins nor ends.

We wondered if we were becoming.

If we were growing or shrinking or

stagnant.

And one day, we looked back.

We looked back on the paths we had tread,

The mountains we had climbed,

The dreams we had found,

And we saw.

We saw that our lives were not a circle,

but a spiral.

An upward spiral stretching

heavenward beyond the stars.

Feast

=...........................+

X..............................Confusion

+..........................=

Famine