Real Growth

Imo society has seldom demanded or required a person to be mature, intelligent or operate from integrity. Usually these traits are brought about by one who has an internal driver to seek them, or life rattles an individual to the point they have to face the facts and handle thier suffering in a different way.

We are a culture of ideals and morals, rules and regulations. These rules are often assumed as good and necessary, but how seldom that realization is someones own. The diffrence of knowing integrity and living it are like knowing about the events of WW1 from a textbook versus experiencing the zones of combat, the press chambers, or an intimate friends death. When you live it, taste it, experience it, it becomes your own.

  Talk is cheap. Imo.. we are a very immature and idealistic species. We arent taught how to acess our potential in school, and often we arent guided by our peers to a higher aim in life. Even religions have fallen short, they have failed.

We create a code of conduct,  but rather paying homage to the creator, instead we idol the code, fall below the code and are forced to act it out. When someone goes against it, there is judgement, distress, and gossip. When someone rises above it there is praise, reward, and awe. Its lies in the mechanics of it all.

But.. youve gotta leave theoreticals and deal with whats at hand in the best way you can. Rising above social conditioning (which is violence) takes everything we have. It takes time, effort, sacrifice, patience, resource, it takes self understanding. Real growth is in the hands of those unafraid to go against the masses, someone with courage to seek the truth and reciprocate it to others too. Real growth. Real knowledge, comes from direct experience.

Stop making more ideals and start realizing the significance of the ones your sitting on. Stop projecting outward and your journey of self knowledge begins. Its a relationship you can grow along side till your hour of death. Its the big picture, the heros journey. It doesnt belong to anyone, until it trusts its belonging to you. Once you claim it, noone can rob you of it. Its so essential.

Quiet Storms

Tension rises in the world
Ugly, rearing, fierce and mean
Who is the foul beast?
That gave birth to this machine

Mellow on the surface
In quiet complication
Rising 'neath the Earth crust
The wakes of confrontation

Stupidity, it overflows
While lines form in front of voter poles
Is this how we change the globe?
Policies and strange reform

I write this for the yet unborn
Dreaming bars that keep them blind
Filled with angst, and violent scorn
The hallmarks of our human "kind"

Decades pass and so do we
Older still but none the wiser
All our attempts to solve for Y
Another strand of worldly fiber

My patience has grown dry
Like tongues that chirp and chatter
I'm waiting for the day
We reach the point we're after

But that will never happen
Because we are so far apart
While quiet storms are lasting
Within this troubled heart

Diary

If you think of me and you feel kindness, love, and the presence of a friend then I have succeeded. If you think of me and feel envy, boastfulness, guilt and doubt, then I have failed.

Life is crazy. I love you, thank you, forgive me. There are endless paths and ways and if ours crossed.. thank you. I wish I could say more or express this love I feel, but perhaps you will have to discover this all for yourself.

It wont be long till there is only light, peace, and transcendence. Until all unfolds from an empty will. So know I love you and God is better and more beautiful than ever imagined. I cannot express the unexpressable or contain the uncontainable. Just know.. and feel.. and find your way.

I love you.

In the Silence

Hush my child, do not seek
Or weaken yourself unnecessarily
The rolling waves that make us speak
Leave, and grant no further utility

In the absence of the world,
The ending of the walls of which
Have been constructed during the hour
We fade, and close our eyes to rest..

As flowing scenes within a dream
Now everythings found open
And all our explanations fade
Within this golden moment

Dawn is tucked away once more
While night emerges in triumph
And so we find our games and lore
Swallowed by the silence

Here we are as spirits
Spectors bearing witness
An avalanche, a quiet storm
Of truth, love, and forgiveness

Here we are like lively ghosts
Hollowed as the father
Full of breeze, and ancient code
Beyond what words can author

Tonight before you slip to dream
Holding tight to blankets
Know within your heart of hearts
The silent hour approaches

This hour is of secret
The strangest form of magic
It blooms beside a quiet mind
As silence sweeps the atlas

Second Coming

The fire burns hotter, higher, for the fuel is firm
Through the Earth and beyond, the sky is ablaze
The raging flame climbs, giving accent to the dark
A beacon that beckons those who see and seek it

Drawn in,
I am but an exploding ember
Leaping from coal to coal, spilling forth
Into the uncharted, and incomprehensible night
The same night that ravishes this sincere soul

My lament pours out, like rain from the clouds
Oh night, why must you be so fierce and piercing!?!?
Your surrounding darkness seems unconquerable
Your battalion of shadows, inescapable
Your mild might stretches far out into space
Farther than my comprehension can ever reach..

I can no longer bear your limitless burdens,
I cannot defeat you
Nor move your face towards the sole star I circle
I can only repel you, and this is why i burn
I burn in display of a cause I fear is lost
I burn like the gaseous giants of the Milky Way
In some far off hope that you may fall and shatter
To be erased from the memories of time and space
That an everlasting light will shine,
Taking your place

Oh night..

Although my blaze is incomparable to your vigor
I sit and burn, awaiting the return of the second sun
The sun of righteous glory, whose dawn rises within
I wait and am whisked away by the dream of this sun that will rise once more,
forever more,
and yet again.

Roads

Roads

And here we are in the midst,
Of another year passing
Nothings changed but the darkening tint,
Of our glasses

Its heavy and its random,
Just like a man at ranson
Just like an anti-nationalist
Singing the anthem

I've cut plenty fabric
Backpacked cross the atlas
You find degrees of consciousness
Are steady the same
Makes a hopeful heart take refrain
And a mastermind question his most heroic aim

After all, this the life we push pull and are getting thru
Cold sweats and potraits, do memories think of you?
Another sweltering day but I'm sheltered from rays
Managing the savage ways we may muster the truth

With this luck worth a buck I'm investing in you
An old soul mellows by a ciggeretes sultry fumes
To ask who are you, and to ponder this "I"
Two roads one could travel but I'm taking the sky
So until cars can fly theres no obstructing my high

I hope this rings right as it does relatable
And it picks up your smile like bouncing on inflatables
Depressions a hard road in these valleys of life
And its often I'm asking, I'm I doing it right?

Tomorrow is a hollow I approach and divide
Like two supernovas imploding deep in the skies
I see the whole world reflected in the spark of your eyes
And the entirety of literature scribbled slow in these lines

You are one of a kind,
Your impressionist depth
Has the workers dream wonders, cursin under thier breath
To retrace every step, to put them down on the map
You would find that our steps, intersect, overlap.

Peace and Love

Fire of Sacrifice

Creation/Destruction/Sacrifice

Getting lost in something you created is fine for a moment, but don't let it swallow you. It then possesses and can drag you deep into some abyss.

 If the pen is mightier than the sword it is because of the ingenuity behind the pen. If the sword is mightier than the pen it's because the skill and craft of the swordsman. The flame of creativity can forge pens and swords. It can also create a strong man.

Like a dull sword into the flaming hearth, you have to sacrifice your outdated creations. You may give them up willfully, loss of interest or by having them torn from you. They go back into the fire of creation, and their raw materials are used for further creation, or strength of will.

It's so similar to a video game, our character excels, our level increases, and we gain abilities and traits to carry heavier loads, travel longer roads, and defeat deadlier foes. It can be said the character not the same, but has grown through the journey. This growth occurs in oscillation between creation and being destroyed.. the "being" that is destroyed is our attachment and fondness to our own creations and captivities.

And it is fine to create beautiful things, drawings and livelihoods, fine china, film.. etc. But what of when it turns into something dull and dead? when your energy to create is spent and there is no more fire?

Then we must destroy. We must destroy our attachments to material and form. Gross or subtle. We must use our identity as tinder, whether physical, mental, emotional.. we must use the dross of our existence, as grist for the mill. We must rub two stones together until they spark a new flame.

Sacrifice. Isn't it ironic that what makes us miserable gives us a sense of identity? The woe is me that replays in our mind grants a sense of 'I matter'. It grounds us, but to the wrong things, and for the wrong reasons, that is.. if it is our desire to reignite.

To let go of our attachment, our creation, isn't like releasing a dove that is dying to be returned to the sky. (Your lucky if it feels so) but to again challenge ourselves for what we are, where we are, and have brutal honesty in our evaluation. It is to return again and again to the notion of sacrifice.

Sacrifice is dying to what you believed yourself to be, and being an active participant in transforming that material into a more refined substance. It is not for the feign of heart, but for the rare breed who are sincerely through with their misery and repetitious lives, who are seeking to discover and not seeking to get lost in the search.

I'm with You

I'm with you.

Couldn't scribble enough lines to say that I'm trying
To make it seem we less of an island
I was seeking.. reality to deepen.. happiness to creep in
Most of us is sleeping.. awaiting a bright dawn

I'm with you

See it's hard to see, when you turn that key
To beckon your sails towards eternity
Some sort of infinite journey, I admit its concerning
I admit I might've taken too far, but I'm learning

I'm with you..

In the sunshine, the high times, the raindrops and crime
Although misinterpret, its still worth it.
This inner passage towards an inner purpose
This sense of care that I seldom let surface
Lets surf this.

I'm with you

When you pick up your sword and do a service
Spill the tears of your eyes and bleed the ink of the pen
Im drawing from strength found within
Dont be nervous, simply sit like a catholic service

I'm with you, for you, never against you
I know times intense but dont let it hurt you
Don't let it worry, don't mistake it as permanent
See you had to be shook, so your true seeds
Could germinate

Im with you.