Whispers on the tundra, silenced from cold and wind,
Paved into the hard earth are the steps of our past.
Only forgotten with the melting of ice,
But never warm enough to vanish completely.
We are here to be remembered.
We are here to be relived.
Original X: Bach
Touching the Sky
Peaking,
Above the horizons we all know,
Above the formations of mist and glow,
Striding amongst nuclear aura and forgotten souls,
It is in the end we cannot loll.
But is not the end when we can rest,
To put aside pain and stress,
Wishing not for more of these days,
Instead of unending space,
Our new sun the light of cosmic rays?
Tears will come.
And they will dry.
But always laid in time the spirit will shine.
All are connected within matter’s rhyme.
To let go….
The ultimate test of one’s might.
To trust….
The belief far beyond one’s sight.
To forgive….
The final key,
Glory conceived,
Riddles solved.
Now to love….
Above it all.
Above it all.
Kind drops of easy water tap at your door.
They reflect all.
But you can see through them,
As the rain continues to pour.
If left too long they will reside.
If left too long the dust abides.
Will you let them in?
Will you make akin,
All that you fear for the sake of all that you may win?
It is there,
And long has it been.
But much longer than the memories of men.
– B
Original X: Bach
Just Blabbin’ tha Thoughts
Trippin’? More like sippin’, occasionally dippin’ to tha big in tha sky, feelin’ as though my life is occasionally high. Riiiiiight. Truth be told, I don’t even remember what demons my past unfolds. In the end all that matters is my spectacle glows. But let it be, let it be, so say he. When in question was it ever a consequence of WE? Are you entertained?!!! Are you entertained?!!! Maaaan, demands makin’ my mind’s left brain dramatically drained. Who’s to spit, that you can’t be what you yourself wish? Excuse me while I have my cake and eat my dish. Wasting space on these thoughts is a case Ashanti’s foolish. Don’t take the time. Move forward and put tha ish on a funkin’ grocery list. Save ’em for later. Like, “Peaces.” Pieces come together to make a whole. Not always the rough ridges of Reese’s. Take a bite and you’ll get that smooth PB center as all the rest deceases.
Original X: Bach
Wishin’ to Sippin’ Minus tha Flippin’
Lookin’ forward to tha dinner that I got comin’ feelin’ like a winner, cuz I got more projects comin’ out my space like I was on MySpace, no sinner, HA! You know that’s a fibber, cuz we all gots a little negativ-O. Just gotta push past, be better, on tha real-THO. Everyday can pay like ATM foreva. It’s sad that life’s gotta be all about tha chedda. Sometimes too much to take. But then I sip a drank, girl wanna kiss, let her. Not worth tha stress when you can take tha positive, mix a little hard work, create opportunity, now yo ridin’ with that leatha, seats, coats, lining on boats, I’m on, bitch. Life will change if you decide to switch. Be strollin’ on beaches like Abercrombie & Fitch, plane to Rio in a sinch. You be havin’ that nervous twitch countin’ life inch by inch. Come on mang, pull yourself up by those britches and get out those ditches, off tha street corners, off tha games, leave those lames, that would hold you back, get off that couch, you ain’t no slouch. It’s there for tha takin’ if you quit tha bakin’. You know you’ve been thinkin’. You can keep runnin’, wishin’ you was stunnin’. But you know you just need that focus. Stop runnin from those locusts. Be tha bug master, ninja turtles Baxter, swat some flies with your blaster. Speakin’ of glow rays, your dim night is brightened, the light that lays in your soul, all tha lights, Kanyes. Take tha dark, pour it my poor bro, funnel. Bright lights…..Light at the end of that tunnel.
3rd Star to the Left
Ain’t no stoppin’ what can’t be stopped.
Ain’t no rushin’ what comes despite the props.
Stars fade and oceans cease.
But they were here.
So says what they leave.
Maybe if it’s pushed,
Maybe if it’s never quit,
Maybe if it’s faced with that single something more than it,
Forcing itself to allow what it would never before admit,
So it may be embedded in the streams amongst the eternal drifts.
Inside it rests, and inside it shall stay.
Only to release what calls from inside,
Such is the way.
No reasons left to ponder or worry,
Feel the pain that’s held back the truth all along,
Engulfing all the good and promise with fury.
There it is,
Without judgment,
Without hurry.
Without the faults constantly aligned with the gateways to purgatory.
Finding itself glowing as it rides the cool breezes far beyond clouds,
So, celestially.
Writing its story with the grace of its being,
Leaving behind the tale of its powerful heart
Powerfully beating.
Original X: Bach
Go
Life truly is as a river, flowing, streaming across the vast space of our being. But where it shall take us is not completely set. If we swim hard even, we can battle even the greatest of torrents, the most powerful of currents.
It is in our spirit the river awaits. It is our will the river follows. Once we choose to go against the river our life truly begins. Once we find our way the river’s flow will guide us further.
It challenges us. It builds us. It makes us who we are. When we’re ready, it takes us the rest of the way.
It may seem the same, our journey’s end. But the journey itself alters every perception, bringing different acceptance, new content, drifting from what we thought we knew to nothing we’ve ever known at all.
Continuum. Always appearing the same. But never the same at all.
Original X: Bach
Delicate Man
It’s funny to me, lot’s of things, but this thing in particular I speak of resides in macho. Macho can make a man more than he is. And it can make him even less depending on the outcome. Macho lies and it hollers respect. It covers true selves and it relishes in intimidation. People will bow to it. Others will laugh. But there’s always a thought of, “Hmmmmmm…..”
Women tend to enjoy it, despite their common laughter and hate sessions supreme….wets their lower dreams. Hell, I’ve even known a few gals to be more macho than most of the macho fellas out there. Mean girls. Mean bitches….excuse my language, pardon my lips. But they get noticed. They get marked. Hard. Rigid. Cold. Cool. Ain’t one to step to. Macho.
What is it to be macho? What is it to place yourself amongst the top of the so called “class” of men too proud to submit to falling, or, at least never revealing how far they fell? Macho hides behind your back. Macho is in your face. Macho Man. Macho Camacho. Macho my funkin’ nachos. Mucho, wait…. More. More, more, more. More than he is? Who’s to say?
Only thy self knows how much more you are. Well, thy self and the everyday people that see through the transparent wall macho braces against, shadowed in the dark, ready to be broken when the soul can take no more.
Funny thing, macho. It’s a science of its own. Shiiiit, I’ve studied, even practiced, once….or twice. Gotten a lil’ stupid once….or twice. Been looked at with looks of judgment and stance once…..or twice. You’d think I’d learn my lessons. And I have. I’ve grown. I’ve become, well, more clear…..
It can be fun though….just sayin’. Good way to relieve some stress…..just sayin’. Meat-headin’ that shiz up here and there, from time to time. Hey, no harm, no foul, right? Right? Got a problem with that? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Original X: Bach
