[x]

All my life
I've believed in things
That weren't real.
This does not mean
They are not there.
Real is simply
A state of mind.
A word
With a definition
That really doesn't define
Exactly what they want you to think
It is.
One might say to you
Seeing is believing.
But that means every dream I have
Is really happening to me?
Any picture I draw
Actually exists?
The stories I write
Aren't stories at all
But simply recording history?
But then what is this
"real"
Everyone always talks about?
Is it really that great?
Great enough
To talk about
All the time?
Great enough
To break little children's hearts
When they're told

1. Introduction

And I stood to look at myself in the mirror.

A darkness stared back at me, an epitome of nothing and everything floating where I had just been. Seeing my ideas all at once was a very disturbing sight; every little blurb that floated into my mind hung there, like a raincloud over my solemn expression. And yet, my eyes could not see them.

If only like Alice I could slide through the looking glass, simply falling into my own twisting and turning tale. If only setting my pale palm against the icy surface would pull me through, writing my words as I went.

There is one lesson that every creator must learn at one point or another, and that is

A Phoenix Among the Barrens

I fall ~~
a wisping flake of frozen light
drifting gently to my resting place
among the ice-encrusted barrens
of a silent world

Amid that fall ~~
Life
Death
anew and anew
melting, forming, remerging
transforming my fractal existence

In death anew~~
Awaken
Breakaway
realize the all-truth
that the dream
and days sudden ending
are one and the same

I arise~~
from glistening snow-ashes
an ice forged, crystalline form
resplendent with icicle talons
as frost covered plumes slowly smoke

A Phoenix Among the Barrens
I see and I hear

A sound ~~
softer than newborn breath
carrying me up from dream
to almost waking's end

To-Do ListJolificate the gyroscope
Embezzle the emu
Fictionize the fuddy-duddy's frond

Placate the penguin
Vanquish the ventriloquist
Whitewash the wayfarer's wand.

Stencil the stenographer
Triplicate the triceratops
Kayak with kookaburra's dream

Hyphenate the hypocrite
Fling the flying fudge
Idolize an impressionistic stream.

Yell with yesteryear
Fire the filibuster
Eloquently escape the easel

Pepper the poppycock
Quench the quintessential
Willfully water the weasel.

The End

My eyelids flutter as I slowly awake from a tired, work filled haze that's devouring my mind. Why do my beginnings always start with waking up? I suppose this is something I may never know.

But that is beside the point. I'm here now, in this world of words, and that's where I will stay until I decide otherwise. Or until another outside factor does so.

And so I sit up, glancing around at the things around me. At the moment, most of this is darkness. I look down, not even sure if I'm seated on anything at all. Was I even lying on something in the first place?

The illusion of sight suddenly crashes over me like a wave from a far off sea. Blur

Wonderings

Sometimes
I like to wonder.
You know
Just let any thoughts
I've had recently
Flow through my head.
They can be good
Or they can be bad.
They can be cheery
Or they can be sad.
It really doesn't matter
If it's a thought I've had.
Some thoughts I'll remember
Others I won't
Some I wish I didn't have
And others I just don't.
But enough of this jibberjabber.
The fact of the matter
Is that my mind will rot
If all it's taught
Is to sit around
With no ideas to be found.
Or if pointless rhymes
Waste my time.
So releasing it's shackles
I let it run free
No longer
Trying so hard
To make words fit
But simply accept

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Submitted: August 27, 2011
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[x]

Wanderer

by *MarviiD, Aug 27, 2011, 8:20:01 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

Have you ever
Just walked away?
Though I've thought about it
My staggering worry
Has never allowed me to do so.
But sometimes
When I look to a door
Just a few feet away
I start to think.
My feet begin to guide me
Taking me slowly across the floor
Away from the reality behind me
And towards a new found adventure ahead.
Carefully stepping outside
I find I've altered this world
Simply by disobeying
An order it's given
My logical mind.
A sea surrounds
My simple home.
Or perhaps
It is a desert?
My toes drag lightly
Through the hot sand
A liquid feel
Chilling me to the bone.
My surroundings
Are my choice
After all.
I wander a bit further
Making sure to keep my
Beginning in sight
To make sure I won't
Get lost on my journey.
Soon I start to notice things.
The strange beasts
Big and small
That I often swear I see
Out of the corner of my eye
Show themselves.
They're less afraid
Of someone
Willing to venture onto their territory.
They come to me
Heads bowed
Glancing up with
Sorrowful eyes;
They thank me
For believing in them.
But before
I have a chance to
Continue on
A ringing calls
From the door I'd just left.
The real world
Beckoning me back.
Though each trip
I make through
That door
Brings me closer
To forgetting the real world
Forever
I know I'm not ready yet.
I still have things to learn
People to meet
Telephone calls to answer.
And so I turn my back
On a world
Only a few can see
And walk back inside one
All the others
Call home.