Writing – Page 2 – SIMPLE WORLD

Simple World: free words

We are all always at the brink of war. Two things can be true because the river banks continue to be broken in half.

I see the world in shades of blue and brown for the calm and land claiming. What is danger to me? have I truly felt danger? Do I need to?

My mind is truly unhinged – that is what I say to myself when I cannot control my thoughts. I think everyone is to continue to believe in the programming.

Monsters with tendencies and hydras living in the amazon. The beasts these days have many heads to exert pain and delusions. It is the price we pay when you choose the wool and your hands cannot stop the bleeding.

Tap in – the youth is leading the battle field – a millennium – niobium – ilmenite

Illegals at the border – seperate first : the spirit of breaking lives on.

New era – new names

Osanobua – the creator

The sand and the snail

In the snail came sand

Before and after

A Single Key

A stomach bellow from Louie’s arm

An encore galore

Strings, trumpets

A voice robotic

Passed metal containers

My pain, your pain

Into the next voice

Piercing through

Of cotton and tears

An angel sitting on the window

The color contrast

Coal choked strong

He sings, gliding softly

The keys start

She follows, guiding strongly

Holding his own

In the presence of an Angel

She has to sing it twice

Stressing peace to a summertime baby

Apple Memories

It is your eyes that is killing me

When i scroll through hidden albums

Pinching using both fingers

Scrolling up those years

Staying careful in these times

many photos after our dance

I do not want to lose touch

Life metrics on your face

You on the other side

A still in time

I, present now

–

It was always your eyes that killed me

Your eyes washing away the mud

clearing the purple spell

cast on the southern blue

And many such kinds

Your letters from the Pretoria hills

A mix of strong wind from September

In my head or mind

I recollect many painted pictures

Words on a canvass

–

Sorry,

The building holding us

Forgetting about what you knew

Am I new to you?

An answer maybe

The train ride beyond

If nothing else

I knew I made you think

I did

You held your voice

I told you it was okay

I embraced all of you

Yet I missed your better half

Timing is all i want to say

I know i know

I refuse to say the first words of this

Strong beams holding me back

Furthest back

Some where, far away

Night dancing, pitch black

Hands out, reaching

How far can I go?

When I close my eyes?

What do I see?

Is pain the first to answer?

What regrets do I have to conjure?

Grief holds these bones

Out there in the sky, raining

I know where to go

From the steps of airplanes

Evenings walks with loved ones

Memories hitting full picture

I cry, sometimes

Only at night

How far back can I reach?

I look up

The sun burning souls into stars

knocked down from up high

–

Just yesterday

Another, soared upwards

Palm spread wide, reaching

into cluster of memories,

Nothing further?

–

Today is not for dreams

Earth holds me strong

What is gone, will come

The Roaming Traveller

Oh what a brief moment

A comet rushing to earth

In haste when it pierces orbit

A new demon or another old angel

In clothes made of the stars themselves

Chain spools of gold rhinestones

Further than the eyes can capture

We, beings of celestial ordinance

–

For a brief memory

To taste air

To feel sea

To hear mountains move

Old towers full of energy

The first beings of earth

Back to the senses

To see thoughts

To hold love

And finally to return

–

Only a short while

In truth it is forever

Captured in a capsule

The truth never runs

Stagnant like eternity

The lies we tell ourselves

To stay grounded on here

Only when bones grow weary

Mind reawakened

Once dulled by the senses

Only then we accept

The return

The repeat, some say

Simple World: Magic

The world has shifted and so has magic. The magic we once knew is still the same but expressed through a different lens. The old and the new magic both exist but the language may have adapted to accommodate our new reality. Simple, the stars have fallen down into our hands. We no longer look into the stars, we look down into our phones. Like a bowl of water, we watch, predict, fail, lie, smile, laugh, join, expose all of which we have into this bowl of stars.

Magic has always worked with the sky, either through oral telling, invoking, incantation, photosynthesis. Magic always is, regardless which ever medium exist. Its all about perspective. The old magic appears far and far more like a fairy tale to the new audience: we the people. Our new magic system is not so fantasy like, it is our reality, we call on the system day to day. When we wake up, we engage into the blue light, register our faces, and then past present and future time is revealed in an instant. We are accessors or capturers of time. When you exist in your own medium, magic should always feel less fantasy, more in the line of rare or hard to find but it exist. Take any piece of technology we have now back to anyone from the 300 years ago, and you may just find yourself tied to a stake.