Inspiration

Here within the depth of the mind

Caverns extend endlessly, lit by torches

Casting shadows along the pathway, welcoming.

Voices whisper like a reckoning

Speaking each word carefully like the poet Virgil to Dante

As a stairwell emerges echoed in mists;

The silent hymns of the mind's breath.

With torch lights remembering candle flames

The stairwell spirals downward with a cold chill.

A room, still as a statue, full as the heart

At the edges of the stairs laying like a fateful servant

Surrounded in liquid crystal, an orchid upon a pedestal.

Shimmering in the darkness, growing amongst a void

Cold and desolate, she blooms unknown

A flower perfect beyond all else, the lover's muse.

For the final fleeting moment that face appears

As the Orchid blooms. Reflections of muse's memories

Locked away in that desolate place.

Forever more, this pen will scratch at the page

Ever seeking the silent songs of that Orchid

Resting in solitude like a Jewel encased in fire.

"...and life is nothing more than the conquest of random events over the unknown." - Authors note 81

Letters to Emotions - Re:Sorrow

Dear Sorrow,

Your liquid eyes shine like crystallized ice amongst the morning sun, gazing into the vulnerability of the soul. An eager entrance opens like a hand outstretched. Calming and gentle fingers wash over me like an ocean wave. your shadow looms over me like shade in sunlight. Illuminating flashes of incoherence crash ashore like sand trickling in a vase.

There is an admiration of chance and consequence followed by voices of choral guidance. A divine and ethereal lover brought to be by a single droplet of rain. With lips as soft as air brushing warm skin and eyes blinded by your eclipsing enlightenment. Skin caressing together slipping endlessly through memories. A liquid timeline, sliding through like a child tumbling down a hillside in winter. A fleeting desire drowned out by the music of the past.

For a moment, you allow me to witness the leaves change colour and shape. You allow me to see the season change, and just as a seed, an idea is planted within the soil of the mind. Broken shapes, play like a reel of film, depicting our lives on the walls. Falling images with nothing but abstract perception to bring stability.

Finally, you bring a sophistication to reality. A breaking point unsurpassed, a test brought solely by the gods themselves. Swollen like reflections in a mirror scattered on the floor. Auspiciously waiting for that final embrace of past promises fulfilled. A level of unknowable love in the blindness that you bring. That warming caress you sell as dreams bring relief. Your beauty unconquerable, like the territory of a tyrant.

The ramblings of a madman,

Sincerely yours.

"In those sinking moments we look towards one another for salvation." -Authors Note 02

Finally got Internet

I apologize for greatly neglecting my blog. For you few followers, I am working on a few more pieces, one including the continuation of Forgotten Places. I am hoping to have them up in the next couple of days. My roommate is also going to guest blog for me once a week, we are just deciding what day works best.

Right, the reason I haven't been posting anything is since I have just moved back to school and just yesterday got internet working. So school readings plus no internet have put a rather large damper on my blog posting. Fret not though, I will be back in full force, soon enough.

Lady of the Forest

Cool air whipped my face

Like whispering willows

Tell the secrets of the swelling apple

The illusion of lifes finale,

Ringing dry the drops of time.

A girl stood watching

Eager eyes telling this story,

An empty wind paints a landscape

Gentle brush strokes creating illusion

Life wandering like ticking clocks.

Her hands were clasped together,

She appeared to be real,

An embroidered seal on her chest,

A broken branch dancing

Orchestral nature through whistling woods.

Watching in wonder,

The girl moved with angelic guidance

Her words as soft as wind's lapping

Elegant lady-like hands pull me down

The grass watch, whispering to one another.

As each broken branch falls,

We await our lady

Vicariously watching for our time spent.

She sings through our harden shells,

Dreaming of shores below a cliff.

The sky above began to swirl and dance,

As clouds began to form and collapse

It went dark and for a moment

I witnessed our lady crying

As her tear drop hit, she was gone.

"Life is an illusion in which we wander endless. Life is an illusion in which we can not walk out of" - Authors note 101

Illiteracy...

Working in the public sector, as I'm sure most if not all of you know, see a wide variety of people. I work for "Service Canada", trying to sell the idea that we are a 'one-stop shop' for all things the Government of Canada offers. We see a wide variety of people with unique circumstances coming into our office.

Today, an elderly man came in holding a letter in his hand. He told me he was illiterate and couldn't read what it said. I felt bad. He showed me the letter and asked if was in the right spot as he had gone to the wrong spot before. This time he was. I put him in to see one of our Citizen Service Officers once they weren't busy. As per all things government, a wait did ensues.

I, being a wanna-be writer, am a people watcher by nature. I saw him pick up a paper and stare at it. My heart sank. Words are my life, I do not know what I would do without them. I wish there was more that I could have done for him.

It got me to thinking about what it would be like, starign a words and only seeing jibberish. Meaningleses scribbles on peices of paper, ink, and web-pages. None of us (bloggers) would be able to write out our thoughts, ideologies, poetry, prose...anything. Scary place, that world is. Are you able to imagine a world without writing, reading or words?

A world where signs, symbols mean nothing. I felt horrible. It made me realize how lucky I was to be literate. It was an enlightening experience for me...thought I would share with you all.

Six days and counting...

A little bit of a back story is needed. My life has always been on Vancouver Island, I was born here, raised here, graduated here, and WAS going to post-secondary here. That changed. Now do not get my wrong, I love this floating rock in the middle of the pacific ocean, but I need some new, something exciting to help my mind regain its mental fortitude, rather than gaining alcoholic fortitude.

At the beginning of this summer a friend of mine approached me with such an opportunity. He needed a roommate. Perfect, right? Well, appearently its a lot harder than anyone expected to transfer schools. Or at least, I figured it would just be a quick clicks and bam, new school, new town, new overall. No. It took a lot longer and me finding out that my, personal, GPA is lower than I ever expect. They still took me, after some begging and pleding (I hate doing that).

After the schooling was settled it was time to find a place to live. Appearently my friend wanted a roommate with no house? Yay. It worked out for the most part. We were promised a place, but that did not work out. Two universtiy-level males, nobody likes us. We did manage to find a place, thanks my friends parents. Nice setup, hardwood floors, first floor. No stuff. The next hurdle.

Last week, I packed up my entire life. Five boxes, one rubbermaid tote(?), a coffee table, dresser, a bed and two couches (yes, I had the joy of supplying our house with stuff). The list above donated my My Mother, Inc. Depressing though, my life is the equivalent to a tiny corner of a garage. Well, first off we thought it would be a good idea to just rent a truck and drive the 12hour drive up north. Wrong. As I stated above, no one likes 20something year old university males. Plus it would have been $1500 to rent a truck, plus ferry fees (I live on an island, remember?) and gas.

Luckily, my mom is a genious and called a moving company and they are moving my stuff up there for cheap(er). That was done Saturday. I've been living out of a suitcase, sleeping on an air mattress and realizing my life is changing. Six days and counting. New school, new town, new people, new places. Needless to say, nervousness is nawing at my stomach and fear is toying with my head. New still sounds good.

[Sorry, its been awhile I have posted anything due to what is said above]

The Looking Glass

Its the realization that comes
When the reflections holds no meaning
The image, turns it back and walks away.

The ripples of water push life in all directions
Forced by a rainfall of stone and timber
That face which was and is no more.

Like a child with a stick,
Attempting to draw a boat in the wave.
I reach out and only plunge deeper.

Cognition like a canablistic maze
Igniting like flame to a fistful of gasoline,
Immersed in the liquid

Eyes staring upward,
Like a saint towards the heavens,
Staring back at my reflection in the waters.
----
A hand, like a petal floating upon the sea,
Touched my neck with a fragile floral fingers
With the gentle touch and startle, there was silence.

A relaxation, calming, liquid emptiness.
Conversational opening like music in the water
Calling to the stones and song;

Braking the mystique between colours.
A loving gaze like that of a hypnotists pendulum,
The warming reflection of liquid over head.

Cavernous doorways exit the mind
Swallowing glass, winged seraph burning angel.
Nine clouds hidding among the oak.
----
Behind us lies a burning gate,
Opened like love to envy,
Ashes to embers, dust to stone.

A record player spinning without a pin
Chess pieces move themselves, in endless stalemate.
Reflections in a mirror of time's passing.

The looking glass, like a soul stands between,
Two burning chariots, like titans clashing.
Washed sand against the diamond shores;

Shimmers of abstract landscapes
Reflection but exist within each grain of dust
Like airy existance shattered by dreams.
----
It was the realization that exists
Within the reflections that holds the desires.
Her eyes pulling me towards

Like a hand on your back,
Pushing towards the ripples in my head.
An opening in the canablistic maze,

Her arms and mine
In a dreamscape,
born entirely of mind and soul.

Her touch like petals
Floating above the water,
Her lips as cool as liquid.

Tears like teases,
An ending in eternity
Like a saint staring at the heavens.