Expand the Horizon

The freedom dies.

A prison's bars flown open.
The reason I, paused and
tried... to whisper the words
out loud.

The freedom cries.

How grounded we become,
how forgetful of the height above
us. Calling us names. Giving us
places, when there are so few.

Now,

chasing the feeling, of the glory
of the real. Seeing past mirrors,
exchanging places, wasting a
window in time.

Expand the horizon.

Veils

A part, in the delicate
layers of the strange,

veils rain.

Never the same. Journeys
that crave to remain.

In a fluid gap, urges
drop. Lost to destiny's fold

of reward, untold.

Unfathomable reasons,
more than feelings, real

yet vulgar nominations
burn the bold, and churn
the old... call too

to visions. Mean.
Without us, falling deep

within the scene.

Splashdown

Brush strokes, under the wheel.
Emotion tumbling the real

with a slashdown,
thundering beneath.

Calling from other spaces,
the frail grey,
of remote places.
In shadows,

under the fun

lurk lumbering outbursts
of vigour, shuddering canvas,

while running wild, a primal cry

too high to be here,
but... under the hood now...

emotion.

Red

With auspicious rage,
bathe the vibrant few

falling into view,

through a crust of
rhyme... not mine.

Vision forgotten, lost in the
blossom, of a violent redirection.
Later understood, belated,

fated to bleed our poisoned
mine, begot of falling rawly,
ignoring a crimson tide.

Yawning,
over an expanse of blue,
revolving around a rare
exchange of faces

and calling, too.

A bold new place
where, the race is.

MRT

Interchange, where all is
a way round, a way down
...around. Bound ground.

All envy - angry at their
departure of course.

Force, divorced from nature,
later... quiet, tender,

remember. The thundering
intercourse of realms, cackle,
babble by drains, remains...

it always sounds the same,
just like a favourite game.

All life's drones, reverberations.
The Masses. Rapid Transportation.

Green

Green, these words that might never be seen
...if not for a feeling - Anew! Golden green!...

Embarrassed to be here, yet crawling louder.

Every squeak and creep(unheard) is learnt
on, burnt on... bruised and rude.

Cradled now

in the black embrace
of our
so linear a shadow.

Our conveyor belt of lessons. Our neglect of such
'adolescent passions'.

Our sky is white... for when aflame with the spectrum
of where we came from - to here, it had been
what drove us, so deeply to blushes.

There are no more rushes,
no more greener pastures
or fewer feelings out here
in the white light of day.

When only loss and decay
bring us past memories..

..of our vivid, and embarrassingly
green skies.

We hold dear to the flame. You and we all, came
from passion into shadows, so neatly rendered,
so clearly lent the ear of wisdom - left here.

Green.

Seize

I didn't see it. The line,
I was meant to have taken.

Washed away by my motion,
emotion. The rushing to an order,
said once by one with impact,
drove me higher...

drove me past her, fire.

Left crashing, into vastness...
you are nowhere too. Only the line
marks out my clever error. The
terror of having you near me, sees
me passing wishes with another,
movement within you, within me,
without you.

The envy burns, and I am higher.

The triangle slowly seeps into me
and seizes my soul. Impact...

and I am drawn to the point so more
savagely than all those now more
exquisitely aligned,
alone the line

...I was meant to have taken.

Red & Black

She left me and they fell.

Putting aside the purity and my
passion, falling into darkness.

Bounce crisply, neatly, drawn
down, inside me, without me.
Conscious of them clawing
and rolling out, my staggering
contrast, I am simply lost.

Adore me, floor me, with tears
this garment tear from me.
Lost in my words, lost in yours...
lost of eachother's firewall,
and we part.

Save these treasures, fallen.
Hidden from the light and growing,
greener, sinking deeper.

An aching, burning envy, that
leaves move stone... and burst,
at every driven rhythm, lurks.

The line now, only ever blurs
as tears fall between the very
darkness and it's light...

the glaring fantasy of our
love's, first true flight.

Narcissism

I am in the picture,

in the canvas,
on this canvas.

I am in this picture,

in the frame,
within the frame,

look longingly into me,
.. for me, for me,

for how I long to gaze,
into one and myself,

and I am myself, reflected
so perfectly, so perfectly,
so perfectly now, upon so
balanced an eye...

I see (only me).

Stifled

I am holding something
of yours.

Can you feel it, missing?

Turn away now, and
turn away without it.
Turn a way within me, and
turn away without dreams.

It's easy.

I cannot go beyond me,
but, dare not look inside me,
look beyond me.

My twisted mind, ignore me
and you will see, something,
that haunts you.

Fear... a creature stalks you,
if left unresolved your issue here,
so stay a while, and try.

Bare fruits, moments do
when you are lost to yourself.

Trace

Advancement, plots backwards
to apportion blame.

Where we may blame
the spirit that drove us here;
of how it works and
what it is made of

left untamed.

Suddernly a trace.
A flash in the darkness
of anger

and we have, lost it.
The edge closing in on us,
as we turn to scream...

drawing shattered tears,
from dreams.

Demarcation

A tragedy, a calling,
a life; more or less,
ordinary?

With the wind, move
our horizons.

While some of us are stopped
to ponder, within sight,
of an

other plight.

I am in agony un-dented,
no bruise nor trial nor fight.

Cushioned in my soft descent,
I cry, I try; upon a
maddening suspended plain

to express a path
so thinly thread,
as to sound
so sharp,

a demarcation.

Space

Space.

Everywhere and where,
flower, exchanges of pace,

Space.

Passions forgotten,
lost, out of place,

Space.

For falling reasons,

to be here,

calling out numbers,
counting out places,

remembering faces,

Space.

Vastness

Head on,
without wisdom, to well
explored lands

profile,
rejection of all that stands

huddled, affection
raw, red and new

opposing... a future,
close to the edge

experimenting,
magic. Parties free,
the real.

Freedom,
escaping.

Fallen,
a last time, firmly,

upright.

and in all of this..

Vastness.