What's your word?

Your Word is "Think"

You see life as an amazing mix of possibilities, ideas, and fascinations. And sometimes you feel like you don't have enough time to take it all in. You love learning. Whether you're in school or not, you're probably immersed in several subjects right now. When you're not learning, you're busy reflecting. You think a lot about the people you know and the things you've experienced.

What's Your Word?

Design

Thanks to Pyzam for the new template; I'm liking this look and feeling a bit more inspired to write again. We'll see if inspiration turns into perspiration!

Successful Migration

Courage is safely over to blogger; posts to resume shortly. Expect graphical enhancements as I find the time over the next several weeks (months?)

What does your name say about you?

Just a little something fun I found over at Blogthings.

What Your Name Says About You

Your name says that you are mostly: Inspiring but melodramatic Your name also says you are: Independent but distant Ambitious but stubborn Fiery but unbalanced

What Does Your Name Say About You?

Reckless and Roaming v.2

A return to a poem I've long liked but ever left in first draft.
Thank you, too, to those that leave encouraging comments!

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Reckless roaming in empty mind spaces, just hoping to stumble.

There are thoughts inevitable, pathways we must trod, prisoner to them without intent or design, or even true desire.

Why struggle against that which is, cowering behind clarity and fake bullshit appeasement? We are truthful, unique, bent, forceful, passionate, insane, and more real than sunlight or freshly turned earth.

There is no scent of green grass for us, no blossomed cherry tree. Free of beauty we see ugly, feel pain, choose it to be it, to struggle with inside to better know outside

To make excuses we smile false smiles and write for false gods, but find ourselves unwilling apostles talking two faced and nodding all the time, still roaming recklessly in our empty mind spaces.

Havoc, chapter 4

Mid afternoon and the beads of a persistent sweat gather
And shine in tiny colonies near my hairline.

Charred by fire, frozen in ice,
I am alone with the electronic hum of
21st century depression.

Raging fire and relentless glaciers
Have exhausted themselves
For the time being
And the real me stumbles,
Like a 3 a.m. drunk,
Weaving toward home and bed with
Heavy feet and thick tongue.

I'm in a mind fog
And even the pen moving over the paper is
A disconnected,
Surreal moment,
Both real and imagined.

Havoc leaves waste in its wake.
Empty fields and blasted minds too
Scarred to return to former lives.

Work in Progress v.3

Havoc

White coals, searing flame
and blinding light torture me.

Advancing ice, blue cold
and never ending advances pressure me.

Burning coal and frozen glaciers
meet in perfect tension.
I am their son, born of conflict
between passionate fire
and time's slow tide.

I am inevitable.
I am invincible.
But I am still so weak.

For all of fire's fury
and unquenchable hunger,
for all of ice's strength
and dogged persistence,
I am still prisoner to Her
and the havoc she reeks in my soul.

She is the prime mover,
so innocent and so evil,
so loving and indifferent,
and still the world
is made real by Her, fraught with Her.

Pity me for I lack the courage
to try and save myself.
And pity me for failing to make my
other self care enough to try.