Compromising Acceptance

To caress spiritual when form is not known,

To realise the subtle ignorance and kill without doing so.

To revert euphorically when you are loved by that which you criticise vicariously,

So that praise comes out of beauty and realism,

That which fabricates and burns the created individual.

Whom is a lie vicariously so.

The En

People As Baggage

People as baggage

Needed to quench,

To comfort and sweat profusely,

To drown and pity,

To reflect within our tears, to resemble.

To caress, to arouse, to love, to bury.

To replace,

To use only for a while, to understand and finally to accept those we can mold,

And despise your own kind, whilst never truly hating yourself

The End

A Shakespearian Poem

Miracles are not unknown to be,

For they are perceived of chance,

And yet I know the hope I have that our love will one day flourish

Is more than a certainty,

For as seasons come and go,

And desires rise and fall with tempting despair,

The feelings I have for you will always stay the same,

And even if touch eludes me and words are not uttered,

These senses will one day form into a reality far more structured,

Than the universe itself,

And this hope will form as one when desire comes upon us,

And with confirmation will rise onto the heavens,

For reality will replace the mythology of despair and loneliness,

That circles me like the empty vessel of time itself.

And when the beginning arises, at whatever stage of time,

It will bring forth a reality that for the moments dwells within me,

A world waiting to be created,

And when that time comes,

We shall be joined as one for eternity,

Through life, through longing, and through even death itself,

For neither aged despair, or worldly desire,

Can deny that which will one day come into being

The En

Cold And Illogical

The love that disperses, like shadows on snow.

It is formless. It is without hate or malice only because of it's desensitivity.

Shadows are superfluous, mere images that outline desires.

Though never show their true feelings,

Snow is cold, So are people sometimes.

So in a World of individuality and selfish desires,

Would it not be more appropriate for shadows to be cast on snow,

Rather than on a wall where sunlight gives hopefully

The End

Explanatory

There are so many stars in the sky,

Do not be fooled, whatever your views on religion or science,

Stars are masses of gas that burn up when they fall to Earth

Perhaps meteorites or comets, or debris, Never fallen angels,

Punished for their deeds,

My beautiful friend,

One day you will not be in this world,

Though in the next we will hopefully one day discover

In Praise Of Godly Wisdom

To feel silence

To anticipate our childhood fears over paternal comforts,

The belief I am loved in a vast and sometimes emotionless world,

To hear nothing yet to feel loved,

And know that when he speaks to me, and I to him,

I can make others understand that we can all be accepted as one with the universe

The En

Gambler's Prospect

Lights Shine,

Sounds climb.

I do not hear them,

Floors perfumed plush,

I do not smell or sense them,

I wear glasses because I am old, not because I am tired.

There are no clocks in this place, Time ages, Memory does not.

Once I was surrounded by many friends, The favourite of men in my blue dress,

Now I am a caricature!

I come here for acceptance, I am platonically courted.

There is no love for me, only my memories.

I am faded, yet I am not the only one. For all around me are isolated.

No one really cares,

Life is a gamble, and in my mind I am standing alone in a field of memories.

The End