I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “human condition

Words An Audience Might Hear


The way we might begin,

is simple,

we wish to tell you a story,

the rest of course,

the interpretation,

will be up to you,

yet,

for now, here we are,

we stand before you,

in the figure of simplicity,

the human condition.

 

Pay attention to manner,

would be a general direction,

always notice the eyes,

might another suggestion,

the people on the outside,

will want to know everything about you,

by the final curtain.

 

It is the actor’s responsibility

to give the audience a reason to …

understand our purpose,

even if

for only a few minutes of this space

we were able to trigger an emotion,

a response,

a heartfelt analogy

of why it is,

we find ourselves sitting here tonight,

listening, waiting, wanting,

answers that permeate our own,

shallow lives.

 

A certain self imposing energy will be asked,

a fluid reminder far ahead of any curtain call.


Because I Said Yet


Though it is true

she insisted

long before I ever began

to imagine

we would travel this far,

and now

we do, we can, we will

as easily as we know

we cannot,

the moment passed,

I’ve cried,

real tears that felt like I could

once again

sense emotion,

that I was real more tangible

than the mechanical

dope

I’ve let my life become.

However simple a solution

there might be to love,

forever

we are bound to the eternity

of sweet confusion,

our human condition.


All The Delicious People


We are all delicious,

really, think about it,

in the moment,

the beauty of our grace,

the being,

our hearts have passion,

we feel, we design, we imagine,

and together,

we might all know the surreal nature

found inside the fantasy of our mind.


For Inside Love People Do


We might travel in these paths,

we think we are alone,

waiting a certain chemistry,

wondering of some quiet destiny,

one we cannot put our hands upon

and form in the sculpted manner of our dreams,

yet they do exist,

for it is in human nature we find ourselves,

imagining the same,

a distance away,

yet close by,

our hearts in a constant yearn,

that when we can smile,

do tell,

do direct our minds,

to know love is,

love can and will and ought to be,

this guiding force of our

silent humanity.


When Walking Alone


There is a difference in tone,

a solitary figure in a moonlit backdrop,

the sky is a canvas capable of new horizons,

if only for a moment the character

might stand completely still.

 

Completely still inside a memory,

holding onto the silence,

a wishful recall

a sweet response to time

is all the solitary figure might choose.

 

Might choose offers certain doubt,

when realizing how time plays a role

in knowing love,

he does want to stand there forever,

in the hope that stillness might be a blessing.

 

She is that fond imagination,

the caress of somber spirituality,

the sort that energy

speaks of out loud

without any reservation, ever.

 

I once recall a story of a man,

caught inside a cycle of quiet remind,

always pushing, forever angling,

imagining the final stride would

accentuate his peak, yet the fall …

 

There is a breaking point in sanity,

when beyond the notion of real,

the body might sacrifice comfort,

instead a forever lust toward peace,

will always compel a forgiveness ahead.

 

When walking alone hopeful by design,

I would the eternal march quiet resign.


if she were real


his life,

he imagined,

alone,

yet when walking the halls,

her appearance,

always alluring,

only when at first he wondered,

about another anomaly,

the forgotten ones,

the two or three or five

perhaps hundreds,

walking nearby,

having a soul,

having desire and passion and verve,

that energy is a mystique,

he never realized

when.


Feeling Isolation


It is sometimes not a choice,

this element of a stationary hold

on moving forward.

A desire, a passion, a sense of drive,

suddenly sedentary,

asking for little in return,

yet the payoff is frightening.

 

While standing in the middle of a storm,

sometimes wishing to be caught,

whisked away like a piece of dust,

no longer apparent,

just a brief tug on someone’s imagination,

maybe nostalgic,

a sweet reminder

of a different time.

 

How often is it they never really knew,

the leftovers,

a salad with every favorite spice,

and yet

the element of taste

is its final departure.

 

When long ago,

I first gained consciousness,

I remember this immediate sadness,

I cried for many hours,

holding on to a memory,

a lasting storyline

that after awhile,

rather soon really,

it bored my closest allies,

or so they seemed,

and I had to let it go,

yet we all know love always returns.

 

I suppose if I let the notes continue to

dance upon the keyboard,

I might suddenly realize,

perhaps soon enough,

or maybe …

there is a purpose in feeling,

in responding to the emotional drain,

in gathering strength,

in overcoming.

See this is the apparent flaw,

that part that only wishes to dull the pain.

Where is that urgency

to step up the dopamine.