Too Many Words

As I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
And if I sleep a hundred year
I pray my loved ones shed no tear

How doth my eyes do decieve
My heart betrayed this winter's eve
Upon my soul t'was pressed severe
Joy and clarity, lost to fear

Promise undone
To trust no one until the time is nigh
When hearts can love
And gentle dove may to peace she fly

Words alone express abyss?
Nay, no valiant warrior won
No peace be made
All truth be slayed
Before the ember fire run



Sometimes we should leave the words for another day and let the music carry us away.

Sideways

"...These feelings won't go away; they keep knockin' me sideways. These feelings won't go away; I keep thinkin' in a moment that, time'll take them away, but these feelings won't go away..."

It's a love song, but in this case, that line applies elsewhere in life. As though a black cloud looms above, threatening rain, so does this feeling of restlessness haunts my heart. It's becoming more apparent in my mannerisms; others can tell.

If I could do anything, I'd dance, and travel. I need to buy back my life. So I can have time; an infinate supply of time to do with as I please. That's the dream. What is the point of money if you have no time to spend it? Not carelessly, but on means to make memories: traveling, taking people to the movies, dinner, etc... just being able to help out family when they're low or being able to say, "I got it this time."

I'm tired of desert. Honestly, snow would be nice. A bit of history maybe...

Anything...

I just need a change.

Change

How lyrics manage to sway the mood of your soul still astounds me.

How is it varying frequencies and pitches of sound can control your emotions?

I haven't really a clue.

In recent days, I've slowly begun a learning process. Though learning things I've always known, this is a case of applying it all to life.

I believe the only one I'm still truly lacking is that of faith and fulfilling aspirations.

Fear seems to hold back the second and wavering belief hampers the first, however, with time, and effort and a little help I know I can over come it all.

Thankfully.

I've found however, that change is something that is continually nagging and tugging at my heart strings. Odd is it not? That someone who falls into such monotony and longs for stability is now craving like a starved wolf, the meat of change. There's a bit of curiosity toying with the idea of setting course and creating an unknown voyage; destination: anywhere. A tantalizing thought lingers on my lips, it's sweetness clouding realism and giving way to careless methods; why not just spin the globe and where it stops begins my journey? Pin the tail on the country perhaps?

Again those lyrics taunt my bones; Boston aye? Yes, silly as it may seem, those words play with curiosity and make my doubt the security of home. Why not embark on a new adventure? Why not scan the horizon for an unknown tale?

My thoughts turn to the safety of the known.

It's easier this way...

But maybe...

I suppose I'll let my dreams do the journeying for a spell...

Sanctuary

"Peace!" cries the crowd.
"Sanctuary!" cries my soul, as I beat upon the iron doors that hold my fate in the palm of their jeweled hands.
"Peace!" cries the crowd.
"Sanctuary!" cries my heart, as I plead with envy for the answers to my undying questions.

Time elapses and Fate deserts my cravings of knowledge; soon the crowd overtakes my mind, leaving no survivors and devouring my imagination. What becomes of a heart torn in multiple directions? Does it break? Does it burst into a thousand brilliant pieces? Does it stretch? Oh how lovely it would be if a heart could retain an amount of elasticity; the ability to move in all directions of which it is pulled. How sweet the notion; so sweet to prove it's inexistence. Damn the confinements of a young mind, untainted by the world, unlearned by experience. If only my thoughts could provoke the genius within, so as to create a disturbance in the void of my now demolished wonderland.

I'm torn.
One direction yells from above.
Another from below.
A third from the west.
The last from the east.

Still at a loss.

One says yes.
Another, no.
A third says maybe.
The last says wait.

It's the feeling of total confusion with a splash of utter certainty. The grey knowledge of what is right, and what is half right. What is fun, and what is to be done. Sadly, I cannot give in to temptations that hold no value, and sadder still, I cannot obtain the joyous sentiments of a ghostly past. It is not quite a doomed state, nor quite light at the end of my tunnel, merely a deviation from the original route I traveled. A sorry state of affairs all to end too soon.

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

Please...
Just forget the world...

Harmonic Chaos

Harmonic chaos...
Pandemonious serenity...
Tranquil turmoil...

My mind is running a marathon; my heart pounding rapidly as it pumps blood to every cell in my body. My lungs gasp for breath as they absorb each molecule of oxygen, in hopes of fueling life. The endurance to keep the race alive, to keep going, is quickly leaving my side; some call it giving up. Why strive for the unattainable, when the unattainable is unbearable to attempt to attain? They say, "Reach for the stars", but what if the stars are out of reach? People write songs and poetry on love. How wondrous it is, how great love can be, and also how terrible it is, how wretched it has the potential to become. We write all we want on love yet when it knocks on our door, we haven't a clue as to who or what it is. Love is many a splendid thing that money can't buy, and love can take a toll on our souls, but how often can you look a stranger in the eye and say, "I know what love is."? You can't. Love is something that is forever learned, and although some may have a stronger grasp on the concept, no one can fully fathom it's greatness, it's abilities, and it's hurting potential. Like penicillin to an infection, love can cure all things, yet like a dagger to the heart, love can be more deadly a weapon than anything man could create. Happiness and joy many times are wrought from love, yet you hear of the destruction it can cause, and the damage it can do to a soul so fully lost in love, they've no means of escape.

There's a story of love found, love lost, renewed, and love found unattainable. When one was given love, into their hands, just handed on a silver platter, they dropped it upon the ground. Love shattered into pieces, taken away by the wind, and lost from their life, seeming for forever. Eventually Fate felt pity upon the broken hearted, and pieced together love anew, to the best it could, and gave it to the hurting soul. Sadly, no tale of mistreated love ends happily, and with renewed love, Fate had bestowed a love that was true, but a love that was not to be. A match made for heaven, but forbidden on earth. A love unattainable.

It is at this point where the broken hearted weeps its spell, and moves on. A point comes where happiness for the love-ee is of greater importance to the lover than a love returned, however sweet that might have been. It is this point where the lover learns what love is; where a lover finds that to love and not be loved in return truly is better than to never have loved at all.

With a saddened heart I wrote, and with a consoled soul I finish.

Harmonic chaos, pandemonious serenity and tranquil turmoil can live in peace; opposites must live together otherwise man would not know the good to the bad...

For without suffering, there could be no compassion.

Ode to Poppins

Falling rain makes more sense of my confusion then the logical ways of man. Poetic justice gives no justice to the reality that is haunting the corners of my mind. Parallel universes taunt my dreams; plaguing the authenticity of life and digging hollow graves for my wonderlands of escape. Where do I go, now that the verisimilitude stands before me, barring the doors to my faithful utopia? Mental turmoil molests the heart, and muddies the clarity of the soul. I'm at a loss. No more answers to all these questions. Lucidity is lost to the stains of glass; reason left to deception. Refuge is of foreign tongues, and hope falls on deaf ears. Please; does anyone know the number for 911? Exactly.

Confusion eats at a soul, until the mind loses control and hell breaks loose; unleashing a wrath unknown to man. Point blank: I'm confused. Get it? Well not really confused; maybe more befuddled, flummoxed? I haven't a clue. What do I do about this predicament? How do you love the unloved? How do you feed the hungry? How do you clothe the naked? Easy: you love the unloved; you feed the hungry; clothe the naked. That's the same answer I received from him as well. Make no sense. A recapitulated statement. How do you propose to obtain answers to the questions gnawing at the very flesh of your being, when your answers are your questions twisted? Proof! Cries the crowd, We want PROOF! Ya, I'd like proof too, however, such a beautiful thing never comes easily. It takes time. Time. What a delicate business time is. How lovely it can be, and how heinous it can become. Well, what if I don't want to give my precious time away so lightly in hopes to retrieve my so sought after proof? Tough luck? Yes, I suppose it would become a situation of tough luck. Here, instead, I shall dilly my time away to better efforts: those of my wonderlands hidden in the crevices of my darkest imagination...

Alice never had it so bad;

sure, the rabbit was

unreachable, the Mad Hatter

unreasonable, and the Queen

unbearable, but unattainable

refuge in dreamland is never as

miserable as unattainable

refuge in reality.

The Little Mermaid?

Let's face the music;

she fell in love,

and look how the

story ended:

is unrequited

love worth

an eternity

as sea foam?

But alone amidst this ocean of pessimism,

stands the woman who deserves to be held

in the highest of regards:

Praise be to

Marry Poppins,

the woman

who flew away

from paradise

on the winds

of success;

may the

umbrella

give her

wings.

I dream that one day, I too, may raise her umbrella to the wind and soar...

~

Dolce Amore

Her yells and torments slowly faded from his ears. He had stopped listening to her ravings minutes before. Gazing out on the eastern shores, he watched his love, the one he pledged his heart to, standing in the rising sun. The waves caressed her elfin feet and bit by bit the sand slipped beneath her. Flowing on the wind as a sail on a fair voyager, her raven tresses played about her face, occasionally lingering on the sweetness of her lips. Angelically, her figure was lined in the morning sun, causing an ethereal glow to dance about her beauty.

He loved her.

Most definitely; he could pour out his soul upon her deaf ears, and never worry that she should ever know. Her light, her inner being, was more innocent than the purest gold and her beauty, her love for all things, shined more brilliantly than the sun, even more so than that day.

Rae had stopped screaming. She'd stopped throwing things about the room. Charles glanced in her direction, just in time to see a tear roll down her cheek. She stood there, the bay breeze wafting through the window, playing at her white summer dress, just standing there. "Her?" she asked almost pleading with him.

Yes, yes, it was her, but how could he tell Rae he loved another woman; a woman who could never hear his sentiments, or the wonders of his playing. A woman who would never know the sound of his laughter or the brilliance of his fingers to keys. How could he explain this?

"You're going to leave me... for her?" another tear rolled down her face. He could never stand for her to cry; it always tore him apart, even if he didn't love her. "You're ending our marriage for a deaf woman? Charles, please, talk to me..." her voice trailed off, as did the now continuous flow of water from her eyes.

He looked back to the sea. She stood there, eyes closed, a smile dancing about her lips; oh God those lips. How he longed to just touch them, to melt in her kiss.

"Rae, I... I don't know what happened... it's just... I..." he couldn't finish a thought.

I love her? I love this deaf woman? I fell in love with your sister the day we met? I married you because you loved my music and she could never understand?

"I'm sorry."

It was all he could say. She nodded. It had been three years and a quarter, to the day. Three years. He was throwing away three perfectly good years. For what? For a girl, a mere girl, a deaf girl, a girl who, in his mind, could never enjoy the simple things he longed for. What's worse, he didn't even know if she loved him back. She never spoke. She never understood a word. All she responded to was the workings of hands. Signing. Yet, she would never be able to respond to the workings of his. His beautiful music, all written for his lover. He always said this. Rae always thought it was for herself. Everyone always swooned when he played; they thought it was for Rae. It was for her. His deaf beauty. His radiant angel. His dolce amore. His little dolce amore.

Three perfectly good years, now gone.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Rae had snapped him out of his thoughts again.

"You can stay here. I'll go into the boat house until we figure things out." Charles grabbed some things, and slipping out the screen door, followed the stairs down to the boat house. He paused at the landing. She was headed in. He was sure Rae would tell her, sign his love away. He shook himself. Charles didn't show emotion. It wasn't his style. Except through his art; his music. He'd keep writing. He'd keep playing. All for her. Always for her.

Years went by; he still owned the house on the coast. After all, it was rightfully his. But she had moved on with her sister; Rae had taken her away. He stood at that window, like any other morning, and watched the sun rise on the waters. He saw here, just like every other morning, as clearly as that last day. That day when Rae packed, when she packed, and they left. It was the same day she asked him why. Why? He didn't know. It was impractical. It was a good marriage.

They were happy.

No, Rae was happy. He was in love, but with the girl three rooms down the hallway. He was glad she never was able to catch on to reading lips. It was a God send. He would tell her how much he loved her; he told her every day from the day they met. At the SeaLand Bay Cafe. It was the day they first met. One of his first gigs. He played that day for casual entertainment. Some relaxing sounds for the old retired folk living on SeaLand Bay. She was just sitting there, her knee saving the place of her overturned book. She sat there, head cocked, eyes closed, smiling.

It was her smile.

The first thing to catch his eye. God how her smile was captivating, enticing, mesmerising. She just sat. It wasn't until after his performance that he found she never heard a thing. "Ma'am. Did you enjoy the show?" He asked. She didn't move. "Ma'am?" He was slightly puzzled, and then the bartender told him the saddening news. "Hey Charlie! She can't hear a lick of whachya sayin'. Sorry pal." He soon learned that her sister Rae was the brilliant woman who cared for her, watched over her. Apparently, his love lost her hearing after a terrible storm, and she had suffered damage when the house collapsed on her. He just stared at her beauty. He was in love. No doubt within his mind.

After, he met Rae. She fell in love with him. Not the other way 'round. She loved his music. He liked that. One could say he fell in love with Rae's love of his work. It was a sad fact, but true.

He stood at the bay window, and cried. Charlie never showed emotion, but today was different. It was to be the first of a morning ritual. To cry at her beauty. To weep at her angelic form. To break without her.

He couldn't bare not having her. He'd confront Rae. He'd take her sister and whisk her away. She never did like the city. She had always loved SeaLand Bay. Maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to have her fall in love with him.

Maybe.

Time

The greatest way to find true happiness is by simply watching the sun rise... for it is here that we seek no personal gain, and stand in awe at its splendor.



Take Time

When was the last time
you saw a rainbow

When was the last time
you felt the rain fall

When did you last see
the shimmer of gold
in the heart of a child
untamed

It's been so long since
you took time to
smell the roses and
you may not realize
it but your
eyes are swelling
shut to the
beauty of the world

Come to terms that
this life is moving
all too fast

Take His hand and He'll
give you time to
find the beauty
in this world

May peace and happieness find their way into your hearts...

A Blow To Reality

Tears fall from saddened eyes last night, as I thought of a dear friend of mine.

Being a Christian, and one who desperately tries to always look on the bright side, sometimes too much so as to muddy reality with false perceptions, realizing that someone you cherish doesn't know Christ, honestly breaks the heart. It was an eye opening night at Chronicle, and a heartbreaking one as well. I just wanted to curl up and cry for him. Cry for him, pray for him, beg him to see the light. I've never felt my heart turn to dust so easily as it did when I said his name for prayer. It was amazing, it was definitely a little bit relieving. Just to know that others in Him were willing to pray for those who would rather ignore the truth than embrace it.

I've always tried to see the good in life and it never occurred to me that many of those whom I call "friend" aren't ones whom I can call "brother" or "sister". It hit me like a rock last night, as I said those names of people, and as I thought of others. The pain and suffering these people must feel on a daily basis must be excruciating, for they've no hope. The bitterness that some feel toward a God whom I've only ever known love from, makes any Christian weep with sadness.

I'm slowly learning that this world isn't as rose petalled as I'd like to think. However, I'm learning that through prayer, anything is possible.

Even the saving of those I care about.