Tag Archives: community

Monthly Archives: June 2013

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There once was a boy named…

Posted on June 26, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Stepping through the round door

Walking into Bilbo’s lair;
Searching for the tome with all of the answers:
A trimmed leather book of pages

read over and over

Full of childhood memories
Explanations of yesterday and the

few days before that
Expanding awareness along the

country Shire lane of existence, to experience

and create something new

Even if it doesn’t mean anything to anyone,

but you and me.

Narrating into view a little tin roof to offer protection

from the elements in the physical being
Knowing that understanding is hearing

and that there is nothing to creating your own reality;

believing in a Tolkien story and then

pushing forward to read something new,

to imagine the impossible.

This whicker rocking chair lifting forward to front
Tossing back to feel the movement
Enjoying a summer’s storm and

reading happy novella stories;
Predictable beginnings starting with the one line announcement

of him or her
My current selection of hoarding

moments to remember, begins with
“There once was a boy named…”

Summer Storm

Posted on June 26, 2013 by MuseWriter

One quick flash and then it’s gone, the light ceasing to exist but lingering seconds later, leaving little stars in our eyes
Extinguished by embarrassment of the amount of power used to create what could never be heard unless it’s so close it ignites
A loner wondering who would chance pain on the undefinable expectations of understanding from a passing eye;
Never letting go of the hope that lightning can strike somewhere twice, to feel the familiarity

The clouds roll, boil, before the explosion of sound; the thundering escape of air
Bodies self-consciously tensing every muscle, constricting movement as if preparing for some unknown distraction or threat
Knowing what is to come but fearing it all the same
Eyes closed, all from the warning shine of mercy;
The bolt only collecting one victim, at one exact target spot;
a finger of redemption

The noise travels greedily, trying to consume as many as possible
A nuclear explosion spreading out in an invisible black wave of intimidation, annihilation
Releasing from the puff of breath that had been held in;
Always the dramatic entrance, successfully poisoning the silence
Shattering the protective covering of the recycled stale air

Such a childish mind paired with a devil’s grin; dangerous or normal?
(Defining normal as whatever it is right now)
Trying to decipher the thoughts of the clouds through their bipolar cries for help
Being forced into contemplation and reflection, kindness
Forgetting body and soul and focusing on the sacrifice:
Summer storms always offer plenty of rain.

Burn

Posted on June 19, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

The wounds are fresh, pulsating with heat
Friction on the heart, subtle reminders that claim to destroy
Sending the troops out to barrel through the floodgates
Breaking, dam, damage
A mind wanders, follows a path
Looping through the gumdrops and the lollipops of Candy Land
Taking a break at every few steps to enjoy the sugar
Seeking the high off of the wanting
Much unlike the typical junkie
Never able to shoot up love like a drug
Or smoke a roll of desire, burning it to flame, red to black
A passion lasted through the ash of fire;
The worst trait of battle in any kind of war
But we all feel it burn every once in awhile.

Enough

Posted on June 18, 2013 by MuseWriter

A flick of a finger catches my eye, a glance down to see dirty hands

Dark mud caked under almost each nail

Disfiguring the usual picture typically in view and

What I see, gazing at this familiar sentient attachment;

controlling more than I can myself

Worker’s palms, gracefully raised up, together to offer up my love

To everyone, the Universe has said enough;

Murky water running clean.

 

Intensity

Posted on June 18, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Drip drop the water falls
Echoing, bouncing, floating in mixed patterns within the bathroom walls
The faucet off and running, as a constant reminder of the time that is ticking
An audible reference of the faces I’ve been running, away
From what we miss within ourselves
And to find it once more
Devilish smiles seduce, suggesting more that’s left to come
The worst part of it all, the ones fallen are the hardest to trust
No matter how many hours of lives we meet, intensity always finds some sort of meaning, new discoveries, commonalities
But then, I always get carried away;
The beat is always so loud when we’re close.

Heartfelt Emotion

Posted on June 16, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Do I just sit and watch
As you force your hands on the driver’s wheel
Grabbing old leather that feels more comfortable in my hands
In my car,
I don’t need a chauffeur to escort, distort my view of the world
I know that when I stop searching
He will be here
I hate being patient, I hate being ignorant
But that’s what life is:
A waiting game
And figuring out who and what is worth any heartfelt emotion

Connected to the Unknown

Posted on June 9, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Digging down, clawing, tearing back flesh
Where is the heart?
The incessant pumping, thumping, developing
Madness engulfs the mind
To where the light is dim, distanced away from the sun where the blood runs black
To a sordid colony of imprisoning despair
Followed by a few trips back into the tunnel, funneling down into the center of my soul
Connected to the unknown of those hidden, hiding,
laughing, crying.

A Bard’s Muse

Posted on June 7, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

Ending each day with a statement, one that ends in an inflection of a question.

To feel the physical touch from the fluctuations

that flow freely from your mouth, your lips

Words to describe, to enlighten, to enkindle

All of us who keep searching for more:

Answers, situations, people

Whispers of light, featherlight, that slide over my ears;

Floating from the top of cartilage to the bottom of lobe

Closing my eyes to see the god standing before me

Of the Olympian stories

The kings and queens of mythology, of make believe?

Here, I find myself chasing

One human mortal of the calmest kind of endless possibilities

Addicted to the grace that calls out when answered;

To find the last part of self and put together the rest of our lives.

The air moves, as if growing, if boiling in anticipation

Or maybe I’m only feeling the anxiety of the Earth

The shifts as you get closer

My bard of every love song that I could believe in

Knowing more than this life could ever afford,

To be purchased, or to be bought and sold;

An offering or a curse of awareness, a common

Problem or burden from the window

I’ve been gazing through;

Contemplating who, answering the same. Always questioning, “What are you waiting for?”

Merry-Go-Round

Posted on June 3, 2013 by MuseWriter

 

A clown marks the start of another ride
Pushing the red button before pulling the trigger
A merry-go-round of children laughing;
Masking the cluster of images swirling in their heads
Masters of temptation, grabbing hold of the nearest mount
Legions of horses, zebras, lions, every face imaginable;
Chasing the last return of a glance ahead.

As a champion of excitement, a wanderer through the torn,
yellowed bodies mapping out the ranks;
Crinkled pieces of scroll, that roll out to be told
to insert a spiritual boldness to the heroes
Ready, waiting to listen.

Grasping the reins of my own companion, golden stallion, unicorn
Guiding the flow of thought with a flick of the wrist
Gliding above them all, watching and waiting for the carnival to end.

The battle endures, winding round and round
Can we have a victory if we’re close to ending it with nothing at all?
What defines a truth without the pathway to the lie
And what lies ahead?

One magnified view of the billowing dust cloud approaching from the distance
The marshmallow cumulonimbus blowing in on a frontal attack of corruption
Disguising stubbornness with determination
Underestimating the ground that claims each footstep

Of the riders as they step off of the stage when the whirlwind is over
Will we find ourselves walking again with nowhere to go?

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Teeter-Totter

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seesaw

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It’s your turn to rise higher on the teeter-totter

The momentum slows as the weight of mind gets heavier

up, down, up, down

We follow the motions accordingly

Pushing self harder off ground to claim the highest authority

Friends on the playground, enemies of the mind

Must be stronger! faster! smarter! to WIN this life

up, down, up, down

Puppets to one another as our fragile strings sway

Sneaking in and out of thought as the hanging tendrils fray

Assuming ownership of answers from our unasked questions

Admiring self to prove worth, especially when others show weakness

up, down, up, down

Your success doesn’t endanger the promises of my own

Your intelligence doesn’t discredit what I’ve learned

Your beauty doesn’t make me any less than myself

The hate builds with every created comparison we choose to accept

up, down, up, down

The balance shifts as we continue our impasse

Schoolkids fighting for domination of attention

Stopping to take notice when opinions of ridicule seem best

Using chance to display rank with each hasty judgement

up, down, up………………………………………..

 

I am grateful for some quiet alone time. ❤

Sunsweat – The Fancy Pears

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Many of you know that I claim to be a writer, whatever that really means, but what some of my WordPress friends might not know is that I also like to sing and play guitar/mandolin!

My band The Fancy Pears has finally released our first song “Sunsweat.” I’m so excited to be able to share this with everyone. We’ve been working nonstop the last couple of months to make this happen and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I love these guys!

Follow us if you’d like to be a pearhead 😉

  1. Website: http://www.thefancypears.com
  2. Reverbnation: https://www.reverbnation.com/thefancypears
  3. Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheFancyPears/
  4. Twitter: https://twitter.com/TheFancyPears

 

Blue-hue Figures

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Who is the wanderer

Wishing for contact

The imaginary wonder

Between night and day

Take these dreams

To keep them asleep

With their absent memories

Hushed in discovery

There’s a key

In this wicked scheme

And it’s with me

As I am, the keeper

Shadow silhouettes raise fist

In knocking attempts

Twisting hopeful access

Without entry

Blue-hue figures stay

To claim the palisade

Unknowingly entering

The sealed gate

To only run away

When confused thoughts sway

Into here and now

Of multiple realities

 

I am grateful for Monday afternoons ❤

Monthly Archives: April 2014 / April 2015

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Monthly Archives: April 2014

Eldorado

Posted on April 30, 2014 by MuseWriter

How long is an acceptable

timeframe for one to attain

his or her prize for the life

that is hoped for and wished?

 

The CEO sleeps in his

10,000 thread count silky sheets

Head on pillow while sweet

dreams fill his eyes with happiness

Remembering from a time

of beginning, when wallet was empty

Now, blessed from earning

his ultimate happiness of affording any luxury

 

The sister of spirit sitting in her

house of god reading her psalms

Dedicating her life to holiness

and many moments spent “alone”

Waiting her entire life to finally

compliment herself in her

obtainment of Heaven;

loving everyone and everything

 

What of joy, what of this true love?

A mission to accomplish for any

foolish boy or girl, romanticizing and

getting lost in the many lovely fairy tales

Or, motivated by goals of self

Whether selfless or not

Words are not to be trusted in

circumstances such as this

 

Four seasons depicting times of change

Flashes of life and death celebrations

Individuals interchanging ideas of an Eldorado;

Mine, has always been the same

 

Scalp — Toenails

Posted on April 29, 2014 by MuseWriter

The circuit board highways

Traveling in and out of the

pores on

top of scalp,

Dissecting time through body

in a confusing arrangement of

directional pale yellow street-lamps,

Down to the tips of any of the

various toenails

These lines narrating the interstates

paved out by fate

Destiny as it’s seen from the

focuses of those meant

to see, to ponder

to create

 

Monthly Archives: April 2015

 the look

Posted on April 30, 2015 by MuseWriter

The look, the stare

It’s there it’s there

Dark eyes questioning

The response isn’t felt

Practiced glances glare

With judgement and disgust

I hope you’re happy

in your tower of guilt

As you sit upon your throne

of conquests

Good luck to your

future heart for it is

shrunken

Just like all the rest

The look the stare

It’s there it’s there

 

Three Crows Bathing in the River

Posted on April 14, 2015 by MuseWriter

Walking along the trail I saw

Three crows bathing in the river

Their feathers ruffled from the wind and water

A brilliant blackness glistening in the sun

Mimicking the water’s surface

With its diamonds and mirrors of light

I stumbled forward

Tripping on the unseen root

My eyes focused on the

Three Black Birds

Staring back at me

While the scenery started

Morphing into something different

Than my original interpretation

Of the river, of the flock

A slimy sheen covered the water

The sun masking my first glances

The distance preventing acknowledgement of other senses

The stench burning into my nostrils

The three black birds standing proud

With their beaks pointing towards the sky

Then I realized

The murder was actually

Three white doves covered in mud

 

Monthly Archives: April 2013

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Meteor Shower

Posted on April 30, 2013 by MuseWriter

Walking, marching, feet trembling

Knocking from the contact touching earth to soul

Connecting in knowledge of grace and truth

Staring straight ahead, calculating a destination;

a sunny piece of grass in between the trees

I continue until I fall, sit, in the middle of the light

Ablaze, controlled, alone

I notice the clouds ahead, glowing in various shades of pink and purple

Puffy masses being fast-forwarded into movement

Tracking the centuries of the world below;

and noting everyone who stops to embrace life, those who love

A scene so powerful, so moving that the ground engulfs me

Pillowing my head and offering protective covering

As if I melted into the soil;

one body, one earth

A lover’s touch to penetrate the warmth and to fuel the strength within

One kindred spirit, a gift of sacrifice

A black night illuminated by stars

On display during the latest meteor shower.

Take a peek…

Posted on April 29, 2013 by MuseWriter

To pluck a single strand, a smooth blade of grass
Cool to the touch, feather light
Consuming perfectness of the Artwork, feeling it seep in while braiding the stem through each finger
The force of pressure, squeezing the drink from one of nature’s mysteries, the nectar of life
Learning to make a plant bleed, humanizing, understanding
Splitting the shaft down the middle
Opening the body up to take a peek inside
Using the sharp edge of a fingernail to conquer and divide
Planting new seeds to grow, to survive.

Connections

Posted on April 26, 2013 by MuseWriter

What is it, that pounds in the pit of stomach, that tastes a bit metallic?
A sharp bite to eat that brings a couple of drops of tears to the corners of my eyes
Reflecting images of memories being replayed in my peripheral vision;
Tempting constant sideways glances to count down the minutes
for just that one look
that one picture
Trying to capture it all,
As a ghost, facing everyone backsides front, all wrong
Offering open hands with determination; consternation?
Always waiting for just a part of an explanation
to feel welcomed, even after spilling out any truth or story
Disregarding modern ways and dialing the numbers of fate on the pay phone, by the theatre where
the grand opening of the new story is featuring
About a boy, who grew up to be a man
A mortal without the limitations of the jaded, the wasted
A new lover’s exhale offering every fresh breath a small prayer;
Requesting them to be sacred gusts of wind to travel,
In a straight line to those connected.

Master Illuminaries

Posted on April 25, 2013 by MuseWriter

I am, just as you are, as we are,
A cluster of master illuminaries, the various torch holders of destiny, a group of multiple ultimate miracles;
Shining their grace into the soil of the Earth
The layers of flesh and dirt, that echo off of the platform at the base of the mountains,
And jump off the cliff into the valleys; Dramatically encircling the territories
Like some sort of scout or invader
The sweet nectar that lies breathlessly awaiting, seeks, is seeking, the steady stream that flows into the sea
The vein that carries the rhythm of Her predictable heartbeat, the blood of her soul
A refreshing swim to remind Her that She’s alive

Forgetting

Posted on April 25, 2013 by MuseWriter

Comfortable, but forced, as if saluting in attention to the flag;

The fabric and the thread of our destiny

What colors will remain when the skies start falling?

I join the ranks of concrete statues,

balancing fact from fiction, truth, or worse, lies

I find, a certain picture brewing, floating to the viewpoint of my eyes

A world of a land and of seas,

A world of guiltless lives and sheltered, coffined deaths;

Acknowledging:

This idea that we are given a reality that fights the tendril hair of knowledge that leads to igniting what we dream

A World with no pipelines, no shipwrecks, no signs of life from anywhere but

From the heart of the Earth, her core of gold,

Pulsating fiery energy to her children she placed above

Who then use it, waste it, ignore it

Lines of tiny ants that march in troops to conquer new goals

To abolish anything original, unless the idea suits the “world,”

However many times She claims She has never once requested any help,

only our love

We seek nourishment, encouragement but trap ourselves by binding to the shackles of narcissism and disappointment,

to add those to the list of accomplishments,

Checking off each box as another step into the assimilation,

Forgetting that there will always be something, anything,

Worth listening to,

To fight for.

 

 

A Starry Night

Posted on April 23, 2013 by MuseWriter

4-8-13

Sitting at a bistro table, in one of the two chairs

Picturing a view of a diamond sky, and being entertained by the crowded streets of the night

My pointed toe traced the outlines of the cobbled stone,

A piece of concrete to record the history of the street;

raw, shiny, from all of the feet before me.

The waiter, a skinny, balding man brought my water and a straw

Two separate pieces laid out before me on the bistro table.

On the marble top that is speckled in brown, beige, and tiny geometric shapes of green

A sturdy image brought to life by Van Gogh in a dream;

Of make-believe, what we seek to define as real

To replay the conversations of the passer-bys of the night, and to question, dissect them.

As my fingers fuddled with the straw paper

Twisted the object, crumpling it, as if trying to figure it out too,

Only in touch and sensitivity;

Making common sense out of inanimate objects, and feelings

Trying to keep my hands busy, to steady the mind focused on the table itself, the bubble that I put in place to surround

Ignoring those who live in the apartments above, my reverie

And not looking at the others who may be:

Eating.

Dreaming.

Misdirectionally Thinking.

Bleating;

There’s nothing worse than distractions during our most important conversations, interactions.

The bubble succeeds in sheltering the lost minds who find themselves wondering,

always thinking, about everything.

But it’s tight, sometimes suffocating;

The force of the task creates awkward lapses in recreating,

Anything sensible at all.

It’s amazing how the barriers we create can feel like all of the weight of the World.

I fumbled with the wrapper, daring a few glances towards the doorway,

The gate of the future, blocked off to the sight of everyone, except me, from my seat

Still no one entered.

Losing patience of strength and pride, I contemplated rising, leaving, escaping.

Too many thoughts are too many enough.

But then, at the height of my anxiety, almost the last step up before the leap,

I felt a hand on my shoulder and knew that you had arrived.

The constant flow of penetration disappeared at that moment, and it was quiet.

It’s unmistakably rare to find ones to share the weight of the world.

To not feel alone at a picturesque marble bistro table,

Underneath a starry night.

Heartbeat

Posted on April 23, 2013 by MuseWriter

The echoing last seconds of a boom of thunder lingered within the waking moments of memory
Flashes of light blinding, even through painted eyelids, afraid to open
A storm of importance, demanding to be heard, to be seen, felt
A single dance partner impatient to start moving
I collapsed into awareness, jumping out into the blackness;
For the moon and the stars had shed away their shine to give all attention to the flashes that penetrated the night
The white explosions of blue, gold, and green;
Shards flying off into the fragments of the living; Earth
The Storm, expressing its determination of telling a story, trying to be heard
Given the brief luxury of the creation of wind and water,
Binding air particles that recklessly spin faster, upward, to start a rhythm that’s trance-like,
Blinding; pounding: the lover’s heartbeat.

Boundaries

Posted on April 6, 2013 by MuseWriter

How many steps ahead is the subconscious intellect?
The telescopic third-eye,
Blinking into an open window of time
Where everything means nothing,
Of what we see;
Of what we seek and believe.
A hazy glow, encircles the picture playing in front of me:
Of a child chasing a remote-control car,
Of the cardinal that sits at my window,
The little girl that mourns over the dead bird;
What is it, that we dream?
To exist within the conformities of time, and place,
To understand what it means that nothing has boundaries;
And to be a slave to them all.

Murder

Posted on April 5, 2013 by MuseWriter

Looking down, I see a tiny blade protruding from my chest

Wounded

Watch, as the thick crimson flows down in a thirsty trail from my heart

Dying

The pool, turning black at my feet,

As in the representation of the extinction of life; and it is

The tar-like edges clinging to my skin,

Covering the pink flesh

I’m falling

Fading out,

Clouding vision,

And I am alone

Dead

The murderer, refusing to sacrifice, ran away

 

April 2, 2013

Posted on April 2, 2013 by MuseWriter

If there were an instrument of Heaven,

It wouldn’t be the harp,

nor the flute, the clarinet, or the trombone.

It would be the piano;

Mixing the different moments of sound

Into the stories of the world

to flow freely, stream-like, winding around the various twisted letters.

To caricaturize their meaning

Inserting contextual lines instead of placing images,

to understand, is to appreciate the living;

What it means to live.

I love

so as to find the love in others,

the ones left undiscovered to me yet.

The majority of friends who,

compliment the shared community of time spent

Creating;

Minds of philosophical masters;

like in the great classics.

To express the knighthood among the learned;

to continue the traditions.

Who is bothered to stand taller,

than the limits of physical proportions?

I know I am.

Red Light

Posted on April 2, 2013 by MuseWriter

Today, I felt the kiss of spring

As if I were embraced by the woman in the wind,

She hugged me

I could feel her warmth;

A motherly touch that promised of love.

 

Her long fingers strewn through my hair

Catching on a few amber curls

My windows down, to stay connected

I heard her talking, mixed within the music

The noninvasive compilation of instruments playing;

In ceremony, the birds chirping

Along with the exact rhythm and melody,

It felt like Heaven.

 

A minute at a red light to offer a moment of reflection,

And prayer

One where the Universe finally understood;

Could feel my need,

Then forced Its hymn

The music playing a light piano with:

Translucent waves of harmony

I happened to notice the sky at that moment

A blue so pure,

Completely magical

I could get lost in that ocean forever;

The only view to supplement the subconscious listening.

 

But as it seems now

At least most days

Reality consumes

And I’m forced to follow

The line of traffic

When the light turns green.

Puzzle Pieces

Posted on April 1, 2013 by MuseWriter

The rounded puzzle edges were spread out across the table

Their splash of mixed colors thrown carelessly together

An explosion of rainbow that added up to form the big picture

Of some unimportant field with blooming wildflowers

As a portrayal, it’s not an example of terrific photographic artwork;

Just a field, another grassy plain that awakens us to its declarations,

By sprouting colorful rainbow temptations

Or, at least that’s what I gathered, but it was the actual puzzle fragments;

Themselves, that caused stop for attention

How can cardboard evoke such feeling?

Relating to the trials and triumphs of picking up the pieces,

And saying farewell to the parts of me that I’ve lost;

The missing puzzle shapes that imperfect the overall vision

There is no reasonable order of the pieces that remain

Put together, they display empty holes that have been dug down deep to the pits of Hate

The heat cauterizing each new breach to be plugged with a distorted rosy scar,

Never to be puzzled over; as if in punishment of losing the allotment forever

But mixed within together, the puzzle pieces put into a pile,

They collectively seem whole

There is no such thing as a

missing core outlined by a cutoff print of green weeds and tall grass.

The time

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The time

The time is near

To begin this life of leisure

Just kidding, I’m typically functioning

On four hours of sleep daily

Working through the sunlight to

Afford playing at night

Splitting self in half to

Continue the dream of this double life

 

The time has come and

Has given life to thoughts about

Fluttering butterflies that

Are dying to get out

From the pit of my stomach as

They fly towards my throat

Choking me senseless

On my anticipation and hope

 

I am grateful for The Fancy Pears lol we have our first major show tomorrow woo! ❤ http://www.thefancypears.com