Simple Word Series – Page 2

Simple World: dream, dream on

Wonderful plays, it seems. Slowly the tides shifts gears, with the pedal revved, the acquired sense of direction attains a new set of waves. Like a pair of new shoes, the delusion of enchantment smells too sweet at first. Only when you see the decays of the sole then, and only then you can boldly say “thou feet are worn out.”

The louder it gets, the smoother the lullabies get. The high pitched voice from the folk-place is always under the buses. Must water fall from the sky? When the land bears bountiful fruit. In the need for cheeks and checks, the kiss smears longer till the bite on the neck becomes apparent.

A striking resemblance you see on the wide world screen. It gets madder by each channel or Chanel. It grows wilder by the sound of the speaker; less reality, more distortion. The fetish of the street-grain-rodeo brings the compendium of highlighted thirst to a new low.

The steps of the queen drags a little too long. The stare she receives adds a year or two to the tale of the Sheeba and a mere man. So strong, yet her kiss settles easily on mouth. The want breaks loose setting another yearn for lust. Such and such, the silk dissipates and all that was hidden bears front in the room of embrace. The pain hints at a later time, but the Queen continues to hold her spell. The mirror says all, she reigns supreme. At day, her face. In night her cries.

Another maybe. Pass away smiles; dreaming on till laughter from the face of the passer-by rings into mind. The workout to bring sane goes south and sends messages to the unknown up north.

Old Soldier, New War

During the times that have come by, I pray for war to come. Not these new modern warfare. The old kind. Those ones stationed between battle noise and mud trenches. The zipping sounds of mortars, as empty bullet shells illuminate the blood heavy war terrain. Soldier boots marching through old places that were once called new homes.

Yes, I pray night and day. Night and day! Yes, for at night sleep refuses me and tosses me in between my past memories and a future I remain nameless.

………………………………..

These drones are empty vessels. They are transporters of bad news and death. For our souls do hunger for a reason to accept sleep, but no! Not these ones. These silent birds made with fiber like materials only look down, fall flat, and never return up.

Like thin dots silently scattered.

Only if your hands be wide as the oceans floors and you bring them together then one might see how much these dots have cost us.

…………………………………

I grow sick by the hour. Every hour eaten in silence. Every chance taken just to remain still. I grow deeper into my own anger. Madness beckons daringly close ….and I fear I will welcome it back home.

Commander Bull. ENTRY #204881

Battlefront Shagari Sector, Year 2098

Simple World: Origins

Space..The beginning of all things created deep within the furnace called life. From void, we arrived. Celestial in size, eternal in depth, spirit beings in our true state. A speck of some form floating, wrapped tightly around milky linen sheets.

We, from the deep darkness awoken into the truth that is called Light have come very far.
Far, into the parallels of different points in existence, we have journeyed: timeless
……..
I opened my eyes and my birth origins flashed right by. An enormous bird stayed stuck gliding on the wings of the gold coast skies, i saw.

I once dreamed. Dragged and buried under the ambient galaxies. Forced to witness my tomorrow unfold, my eyes free from any manipulations. The smell of daylight lingered strong pushing away the burnt reflections of any known pain. Here, stationed in this shuttle named tomorrow, i saw that indeed the human life in full was blunt with words and brief to experience. Like a good high..the memories vivid, duration always shortened.

Simple World: the southern Queen

The smell of freshly mowed grass runs through me and like a herd of belly hungry cattle, my desires for green grass deepens, forming into my voice which hurriedly writes out
“How I’ve missed you, Southern Queen
Your arms wide and stretched far
across your green lands”

My cold skin from the east coast gradually shedding away as the evening mosquitos of the southern heat suckle away my now fading winter memories.

Southern Queen with your ever welcoming grace: of your dwellers I have no immediate recollection but of your skin I have smelled before. With your pace defined, I remember your open roads.
My ears retuning its canal back to string played guitars and crooning voices telling tales of southern love and bar-fist fights.

Southern Queen, your open arms full of unforcing love; memories of the old days I spent with you comes flooding back.

“Stop right here,” you whisper into my ears.
Lost in the country side, only blue and green I see, of sky and of earth. Distant, across the fields where black cattle graze and brown horses pretend to fly, a small wooden house shaped like a hut made of clay sat amidst dog barks, chicken feather flapping, rattle snakes crackling. All melodies of the beauty within the bosom of your care.

Southern Queen, you know well the difference of highways and red sandy paths. Of tower-like buildings and hills of old tress, the difference you know well. Though of your dwellers intent I fail to remember but of your thickly formed heat, I remember well.

Southern Queen, in the heat amongst the low cut houses, you sing to me: pleading I stay here with you. Here away from the maddening mechanical ways of the east lands. You tell me of a place within your heart; full of water wells and ripened maize.

“Give me your labor tears, be you boy, girl, man, woman. Give to me a lake full of your pore-dripping sweat and to you I will reward with land to call home and plants for food. I ask for your sweat, only so I may refill my fountain during the conference of the golden sun and the coarse land.”

Simple World: dreams of the growing ocean

And in that dream, I saw myself right at the edge of an ocean, looking across the lavish blue water body. In the light, the sun providing me an ambiance of humid energy. I, then saw myself at the steps of a brewing river. Across, there the land of the red rested. Smells of the evening preparations lingered in air, mothers giving incense to firewood, stirring earth secrets and leaves in clay pots. Round and round. Milky-eyed children on bare feet, grain of sands entangled in their little toe-nails, pranced around their mothers playing the growing rhythm of life.

During the settling of the sun, far-east, warm-red attached itself all over the land giving meaning to its current dwellers. Mountains and hills providing shield, the people of the red peaceful ways living right in the center unaware of the many things beyond them.

In that dream, first my mind opened, then did my eyes. In that steady floating motion. Slowly paced. On wings I flew beyond the blue water body. To a flowing waterfall sitting at the edge of an old hill, I placed my gaze, pouring downwards from the waterfall was water and specks of stars. Both combining, forming into an overwhelming, overbearing light. Up, this light rises above me and the surrounding trees and sky creatures. Up, past the epic blue sky full of moon-colored clouds, deep into the holdings of space, the light reached and finally settled. Another beaming fire of the universe conceived from the deep wells of our own earth.

And in that dream, right at the moment before my eyes was to awaken and my mind back into the shadows of sleep. I, now guided on the wings of an ancient phoenix, around me soft sounds of breathing clouds played the keys of blue and green. There, I saw the ocean growing in width, length and in great depth. Its wide arms stretching out to the land of the red. I saw the earth, trees, leaves, birds, blue, green, grazing herd, mountains and last the voices of the red.
I saw them all, awakened, freeing up space and air. The ocean rapidly increased, growing in length, width and from within: the earth’s innermost crust. Arms continuously stretching, reaching further across the ends of earth.

And in that dream, suddenly I was no more

Simple World: a diary in space

Found my being in space
Eye balls both blown out
Raised hair spiked with electricity
Chakra moving through my thoughts
Black space
A canvass to create another masterpiece
Where’s my lab coat though?

Another moment
In a state of inhabited silence
Particles of my flesh floating
Body organs close to touch
Are those my bones over there by the red looking boulder?
Wait are those space ships?
Sheet! Things are getting more weird
Bright zooming lights,
alien abduction?
I’ll probably get a pros…..?

A spring of thought
Sight of internal influence
Expressed with a clear view
All co-existing in one entity
Planets living with planets
A star with a star
A soul with flesh
See where I’m going?
Galaxies all compresses with life
Some of which: walk, move, eat, produce, create, and of course destroy
All carefully held by their belief of existing
Crazy?
Well, thats my view from up here
Here in this circular motion of black space

Simple World: Steppin’ Into Tomorrow

In a world that not been named, a man and woman held on their lips word formations of the forth coming generations. Without a single leaf, they both walked around the plains discovering new things. Planted or not, their eyes had been opened to understand the very structure of things made for hunger. Words could not be uttered, only hand motions: touch and breathe. As they walked a single thread attached to the back of their heads seamlessly followed along.
What was love when all they were all they knew? Waking up into each other’s existence. Questions were not needed. For names had not be harvested into thoughts.
A protective sturdy covered them both, so thick and full of layers that nothing not made from the purpose of the ways could puncture through.

So they stepped into tomorrow and saw death himself. The thread had been cut and nowhere, wherever, they looked could they find that protective shell.
A siren spirit rose up from the woman’s lungs rising high, a cry poured out from her lips.

“Death!!”
Where is destiny?
Where have you hidden her?
Where may I find her?
Lost in the gold, she bathes
Repetitious death
Lies of time”

Simple World: In the Key of Blue

Their skin bounced back essence to the sun. All clothed in flowing dresses, they walked softly moving through the green thick forest. Animals from the regressed to the wild free stood still watching the people quietly breeze through. Silence all around. Where were they going?

Four seasons ago, their king had invoked the god’s anger into their land. Though long gone and buried, his sins was being paid with the blood of the young children of now. Fathers lost hope: farm lands empty with no farmer to fill the soil with seeds. Mothers prayed to the gods for their children to see the rising of the next day.

“The days of sorrow are here, god’s retributions will follow our people till the very ends of the world till a way, our way, is regained.”

We the new generation feel the pain of our long forgotten people in our very bones that is why most of us seek but do not find. We are kings and queens all looking for our misplaced crowns. We wear clothes but walk through life naked.

Listen to the cries of the lost warriors, on ships they laid, their bare skins pricking woods. Their faces peering through hoping to catch the sun before it settles.

You fight, we fight. The struggle remains. We are pharaohs looking for our ancient city.

The mad men of this world will not bring us answers for their souls has been quenched by the blackened black oil called greed. Look around no one has the path to our way, the few who do are locked in the trenches of man-made hell.

Seek, pursue.

Supplement but never compromise.

Life is one has we all are; unique enough to be distinguished from one another.

Differences never made the better man.

Wherever the head rest know the foundations have been mixed by elements that will remain till the coming of our way.

Yes, yes. Can I truly say the beayoutiful ones have not yet been born? Where is that generation that will be bring water to quench the thirst of my people? Are they here? Living amongst us. Or is greed, our greed killing every hope they hold.

I have no answers only a drive to seek my own.

Simple World: War Sight

When I open my eyes all I see is an untainted red; first a specter forms spreading into a canvass of dappled blood, all trapped around my cornea. But when my sight releases itself from its temporary bind a light blue hue explodes into my pupils fading away the once known pain. I am he. A solider who forgot the calls of death in the early rise of war-battle. Shout at me and I will keep marching forward for my name refuses to settle in my wall of thoughts. What I seek now is not redemption nor forgiveness. I only ask for the scythes of death to bring me the silence of love; an end to where I may begin knowing my woman awaits at the pearly gates of my awakening.

So I Say

Casualty, casualty

Rid me of pretense

For when my memories flood in

I am left in the green lush bush

Thick with regrets;

Regrets born from the dragon’s fire

And as the night dissipates

Burning with the fire called love

In my hand, liquor my king, reigns

My crown to hold

My own Queen’s touch gone

Her scent nowhere to be smelled

Casualty, casualty

The wars of my forgotten fathers

have brought me the cold of tomorrow

Casualty, oh casualty

My mother’s love has

Fled from my abode

Casualty, dearest you

Where do you hide my lover’s silk?

Her ivory skin lingers in my tongue

Casualty, forgotten one

Bring me home

To where my bones

May find soil

To stand on ground

For I fear my past sins

May eat away my flesh

Casualty, oh sweetest pain

Where’s my future?

For the present has me locked away

back in my war zone past

As the world spins on a pole of fire, souls light up dancing along with golden sun

Simple World : Lucky Star

As the fumes bubble through the air, the music was just ripe and ready for the night. Giving back was never a hard thing, but the distance that was to be reached was everlasting. Further and further the bells rang, tomorrow never seemed far away. That point you have always dreamed of is here, waiting for you take hold. Break your soul and drink mortality. All you stand for holds no ground in this place of madness. The bridge is shaking and trembling, fear is no longer a choice. Walk away and it’s gone forever. Four seasons past, and you’re back to your roots. With a case full of identifications, you’re born afresh and anew, subject to the laws of covered deceit.

All I have is you, my words on screen, fonts describing my path. Since school is over for me, I’m left with a bag of passion, to fulfill those hard string dreams. Click – click, the fire that died in the morning of your demise is back, here again, re-ignited with a new name, calling you to see that no matter how much your drift, you can never hide from the bright rays of the sun. So stop been a buzz kill, pick your own road and walk that distance. The flames will surely be hot but in it burn till you become one with your calling. Never a wrong when you go with what’s in you. Free your mind, become limitless, and choose immortality. For the unknown is what becomes known when one dares to give it a name.

What do you fear? Those voices you seek refuse to be sought, so raise up with courage and go your own way. It can only be one, unique, splendid, weird, different, that’s your own chapter. It is written that to become one, you have to implode first and then all that comes out is you: pure you. The mind has been caged, locked away, a slave to another, so understand the world will never be understood. All one can do is explore the gifts, tokens which has been left for us to find. The pirates left their treasure in the island of cursed sirens for a reason. They wanted immortality, their names sang in hymns and books. Choirs dressed in white singing in a unison pitch all praising those men who refused the fear of other men.

Those of them you cannot count have their own cowries to share, but the few you have must be treasured and shown why they deserve to be with you. You have blinked, four seasons are gone, so leave it be and move on to the next rainy times. It’s hard to go on without a package of love strung on your side but to be emotionless means having, then giving away all emotions. To receive, you must dance to master the moves of the rhythm.

Words, words but all I want is to stop speeding and lose myself to dance. In time, the sounds become coherent. Life is moving, but remember it’s your life, you have the choice to stop the clock for a little dance. Be conformed and you will die lacking bravery. To bring a new flavor, first you must first taste peach to know your balance. Hang up the grief, its old my dear friend. It’s your own, forever yours. Make a name by going where you want to go. You know it, you were never destined to be a follower. You exist to break free and make people see those other hidden touches. Those ones that have been locked away in the garden of secrets. You have been there, that forgotten place no one dares ventures to. They might be a tourist, but you are a native, chosen to show everyone we all can exist without boundaries. You exist to show that life is not a cage to be trapped in. We are here existing to exalt every goodness we might find remaining. That’s why your voice is like no other. Weird, it is. But until a name is found, carry that bag for only you can know the weight it holds. If tomorrow comes and it’s unfamiliar, know you are in the right track. Just so you know suffering, hunger, pain are all part of the deal: the complete gift. To be balanced you might have to taste sand before the sugar. Even after the blisters, you might find out that sugar was not all that. The answer, that one thing that keeps you moving, that one thing that holds together your passion is nothing other than the real touch from love.