Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Sometimes Life.

Sometimes life can feel like it is in intermission
And every failure is a dent in ones ambition.
The air can be infused with confusions
And one can be friendly with their delusions.
I am Feeling Caught, But i simply am not
And with time,I'll learn to shine.

The strangeness here, odd perfection, constant near,
Is the Grandest cause for ones corection.
Like a wind swept day you'll get carried away
And with time, you'll learn to shine.

From the Sun above,
You get a glimpse of perfect love,
And with time, You'll learn to shine.

Monday, July 9, 2007

Upon An Angle

upon an angle the world turns upside to flash inconsaquential the neghboring clouds that bloom in front of the fire berries that cover the scapes of heaven eternally stretched over unending spaces that tell all tales of life and death unlfinching as an ever birthing example of the creative spirit that seathes and writhes and rests behind breathing and seeing touching sound and the rustle of the birds wing as it creates more wind carrying itself into the feeding sky that never slips for there is no limit but the heart of the drunken sun that will grow fat and burn deeper colours until it dies and shatters into the fires of the universe that breathes like breathing slow and heavey over a cup of coco in times of winter and longing for water in the days of summer that carry us away into the past along the camal routes over the salt flats and sand dunes of mother desert that blossemed adventure and death unto many sons and daughters of the world.
i chace a voice on the salt same sea
i now choice has a wont for me
i find the words in a suitcase and go
running through the alley of the falling snow
bare all the burdens take the chance to leave
i bag your pardon as i wipe my sleave
a little trouble a lotta change
i blame the state for you acting strange

Burn and burn and burn
we've really got no choice but to learn
She stands, as chance, beneath the sun,
Chasing every veriance to one
Running fingers through her beads of glory
She will never say she's sorry
The deed is done is done is done!
To say my heart most willingly doth go
Is a but a lie that melts as snow
Than to ply that cheerful smile
Leaves but a sense and taste of bile
And off I fly
As thou I never left the sky
And sit beneath the stone
To Dance another dance
And joy the earth to roam
And breath that breathe of chance
To conjure life from bone
this so strange
so strange
as time may find to go
and lead me to isle down the row
where ever burns the present
fast and slow
to catch and turn the phantom day to snow
rush cold and hot
over me to find
and bind the spot
that sets my brain aflame
and teases all my thoughts that hold