*~BlOgGiN' wHiTe TrAsH~*

I write a bunch of babble, calling some of it ‘prose’, some of it ‘poetry’ not really knowing what any of it is besides ‘My Writing’. So I write it somewhat expecting someone else will eventually read it, but do I read it (other people’s)?
I actually don’t like reading it. When I do, I’m incredibly picky about the Poetry/Prose I do read. I think most of it is either incomprehensible, and a good portion was actually meant to be written that way; or its just junk. So why do I write it and expect other people to read it?
I have no fucking idea.
That said; I apologize for wasting anyone’s time who was kind enough to read any of my blather and hated it.

As a rule I do read blogs of and return comments  to those who leave me a link to theirs (I haven’t figure out how to get to a commentors blog yet).

I never wanted to be A Writer.
I just wanted to Write.

I have no memory of giving my consent to be placed upon this Earth.
Believe what you want. And so will I.
I belong to no Man, I belong to no Gods, I alone own my body, my mind, my soul, my energy, my heart, my thoughts. Where I go, what I do, is my decision alone. I’ve had enough of others telling me certain things are NOT my choice alone. I do not accept that, and no longer wish to hear their opinions of what selfishness certain actions are when NO ONE owns my life but ME! I don’t want anyone’s opinion of what I choose to do with my own destiny or even what I think about inside my own mind and heart.
I need no lectures or opinions or condemnations. Choke on your words, I have no need of them.
I am not anyone’s property.
I am I.
In all it’s Complexity, and all it’s Simplicity.

I saw the blinding descent of the sun
turning my eyes and my World flaming bronze
You insisted you saw glittering silver snowflakes
Tumbling through the velvet darkness
Drifting snow and copper glow
Tell me, do you know me?
I have seen you
In lives lived past
Tell me you remember me
I saw furious black clouds tumbling over one another
Spilling curtains of hot rain
You insisted once more
Of icicles and thick, powdered snow
As far as our eyes can see like a glittering sheet
Please say you remember
Tell me, with your eyes like a lake of ice and sparkling like the snow
Tell me, do you remember me?
I remember you.
I’ve felt you missing from my soul
I’ve seen you waiting in my dreams
Watching from your castle tower high  beyond the drifting snow
Your shadow cast in silver by the looming, brilliant moon
I saw it raining, warm , salted tears of mine
I saw you catch them
And throw them to the indigo sky
Stars, they became, silver, shimmering lights
Yes, you agree
It was snow and rain and burning Sun
As it set behind a dune of ancient sands
All these things and more, you tell me
You remember us seeing together
I remember you
You smile. Yes, you do remember me.

Love is Fear
Love is Pain
Love is subjecting yourself to another’s torment
Love is the Wicked Unknown
And the Evil of Betrayal
To Love is to set oneself for defeat
And Destruction of ones Soul
To Love another is to Hate yourself
Love DOES hurt
Love IS a lie
Of all, I fear Nobody has ever really Loved anybody in Truth
Deceitful and Venomous
Love is never fair, always selfish
The Heart is not precious to Love
It is its parasitical companion
Love takes and bleeds and drains
This ‘Love’ is vicious and savage
Primal in its needs and nature;
It takes the flesh and shreds the soul
It is not held sacred but abused and twisted
Love is not a Cupid
Darting slyly with his passion tipped arrow
It is a viper, striking at the slightest twitch
Sinking its fangs into soft flesh
It rips away, shreds and leaves ugly gashes
Open, bleeding, festering wounds
It is not beautiful at all
It is not pure and bright
To know the truth of Love is to know the truth of Life
To Suffer

I will continue to force the same smile. Spit the same bland words, make the same endless motions…
What goes on inside, underneath, is nothing like you see, or want to see.
If I looked on the outside the way I feel on the inside, I would be nothing less than horrifying.
Every day.
I live this false portrait.
Its okay, its mine.
I have made myself comfortable in it.
Pretending, Faking…is so much easier than explaining.

Searching for more than a lover
Thousand years I have wandered
In darkness and frigid cold
Crying at the doors of Temples
Bleeding at the foot of altars
Stone Idols look away
But I sigh and they hear
Now I search for that lover
Someone strong in their soul
I left my home
I left my world
I shut the door and walked away

I see a light in the crypt
Someone’s searching around
Can’t find the door to the outside
They’ve been locked in there alive
We all search for the door
Gazing into the bowl
Holding our breath for the answer
To feel that fire deep in the soul

Sit atop the Great Pyramids
Contemplating the moon
Below me the ancient sands roar
Speaking lies and speaking truth
Entombing the dust of long dead slaves
Who whisper when the winds move
Telling secrets to those who listen

Open my fists let the sands blow away
I sink into Synergy

Whispers
Plumes of pale smoke
Voices like liquid fire on honey dipped roses
A sigh that glides over flesh in a cold, serpentine caress
Filling the air with movement of breathing
Byzantine eyes reflecting in the velvet darkness
Disembodied gems
Unblinking
Whispers, once more
Subtle as the shifting of the Midnight wind
She moves through the sleeping trees
Over the damp, cold ground
They hush around her, scarce daring to exhale
Lest she pauses in her passing
To look upon them with those eyes of torment
Her soft gown moves about her in liquid motion
As she glides dismally past the huddled night things
A billowing, pale vision with downcast eyes
Her blue, cold lips part
As softly her tormented voice spills from them
The air seems to shudder
Those around her, they tremble
Her voice grows steadily higher, haunting, ghastly
In utter sadness and yet…fierceness
Her wild hair, pale as her tattered gown
Stirs and writhes about her with a tangled life its own
Horribly she cries on
Wailing in such a bone chilling pitch
The very stars seem to cease to blink
Until at last
She lets the sound fade, sink within her and die
And her lips of ice blue at last close
Her eyes having been searching upwards in her lament
Once again fall to her alabaster hands at her side
She speaks only one word
As she glides past them and into the struggling dawn
A whisper like poison treacle;
‘Despair’.

Beginning of a flame
Starting of a fire
Smoking refuse and burning substance
From the ashes rises She
Darker than the Night
Unlit even by the Moonlight
Tendrils of pale smoke
Whispering, drifting upwards
Spiraling to the sleeping sky
Silent diamonds glitter and watch
The air breathes with her
Tumbling the feather light ashes
Scattering them
Scattering them
She sighs
As the darkness sinks from violet to inky black
Her eyes flutter and open
She sits amidst the warm ashes
Touching them…stroking them
Slowly she rises
Gliding through the night
Sleeping ancient India
The ashes ignite
Her fire burns through darkness til daybreak
When she returns home to settle amongst them
Ashes once again
To wait once more for the absence of daylight

I write, I write
Out of my mind
These voices sing
Through my hand
The words begin

Sometimes streaming
Endless and vivid
Sometimes struggling
Sluggish and yawning

But still I sit
At my silent, old desk
My hand it cramps
And it numbs
And still my mind
It races and swirls

Visions and thoughts
Inspirations and plots
So I write and I write
Page after page
Line after line

Spinning words
Whispering pages
Still I write
I must
I sweat
I bleed
My soul
Onto Paper

Still I write
And I write
With a Love Unrelenting