Forever Young

imagesBY5XU0ZO

You are you, and I am me

How old you ask…

Would I be?

I would have wisdom of the ages

Protecting me

From me

I would have youth brimming over

So plain to see

Accompany me

I would know the dangerous things

This time around

Staying clear and free

I would do the things I missed

Things escaping childhood

Reality

I would right the wrongs

I wronged before

So spectacularly

I would correct the past

Set transgressions free

Free of me

So you ask this of me

How old would I…

This person be?

It matters not the age I choose

A number would not suffice

You see

I cannot retrace the steps I took

Child at heart

My only plea

If I knew not how old I am

Venturing a guess is not

For me

This I say with a laugh and smile

My age would be forever young

Assuredly

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Paper Pirates

This piece is a big Thank You to all my word press friends. I draw inspiration from each and every one of you and am ever impressed by your individuality and endless talent. We are Paper Pirates, and sail the vast sea of imagination. Here is to hoping our ships continue to pass each other often in this endless ocean of creativity.

1 Paper Pirates

We poets are one and all paper pirates
Heavy and dangerous with our thoughts
Using words to collect the highest bounty
And creating tides of self strong emotion
Adrift on a vast ocean of quiet white
Waiting for the strong current of belief
To drive us in our creation of hopes and dreams

 

Much in common with the buccaneers of history
Sabres our words, and ideas being our side arms
We take from earthly travelers simple ideas
Turning the blade to suit our individualism
Yet riding a tide of collective expression
A sea of blank pages are just opportunities
To raise the flag and sail boldly ahead
Leaving the creation of other’s thoughts in our wake

 

The sound of cannon fire signifies new beginnings

 

The blood we spill is the pencil we put to paper
Or the ink that tells the many stories of our lives
The same ink that creates the ripples in the page
And keeps the ship sailing onward toward eternity

 

That ink is what binds us as brothers and sisters
And forms the common bond we all share as artists
Performers on a stage not the poet pirates calling
Yet give us our thoughts and an ocean of pulpy white
And we shall lay before you an abundance of wealth
A wealth of feelings, ideas, concepts and raw emotions
Sorrow and despair will walk the plank as we write
In the hopes that the storm clouds will soon break
And the sun will reflect a paper ocean’s brilliant white

FOUR

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  First came the RAINS….Steadily pouring for what seemed like an  eternity. Winds blew strong and  hard from  every direction bringing with it sharp whistles and crude  whispers of the events that were going to transpire. Deaf to the warnings  being brought forth by the ceaseless storm, The worlds population  remained oblivious to the imminent destruction about to be wrought on a  home so taken for granted.

  It came from the EAST. starting as a very low rumble, as  steady and unrelenting as the rain, and continuing for forty  days and forty nights. The rumble became louder and more  persistent as the days and nights passed. Soon what began as a low  undecipherable rumble became this Thunderous roar which was being spoken of by many, but  understood by none. With each passing day it became clear  that the rumble was unmistakably the sound of charging horses. Galloping steadily  and with great haste toward the unsuspecting masses.

   The sound being put  forth by the oncoming charge was that of SIXTEEN  hooves pushing onward through  the driving rain, while simultaneously setting fire to the earth with each forceful stride.  Flames rose high behind them, impervious to the sheets of rain falling from the  sky. Sixteen hooves, driving  four thundering steeds. Atop each sinewy mount rode a familiar  horseman. First mentioned in the  BIBLE, the horsemen were that of Conquest, War, Famine, and  DEATH……….For they were the four horsemen of the apocalypse and their journey will bring certain doom to all mankind.

  Riding single file they  take their positions in an ominous line of swift efficient  punishment.First is Conquest, riding a white horse and wielding a bow, bringing all to their knees with ease and force. Second comes a red steed ridden by the  horseman swinging the sword of War, followed by a black horse and a rider holding scales as if to  measure the weight of atrocities committed and balance them with punishment due.  This is the horseman of Famine bringing hunger and desperation to the war torn land. And  last…. riding a pale horse and clutching a scythe, the horseman of DEATH brings plagues and disease to the last of the human race before  collecting their souls for the final RECKONING.

  With the day of final  judgement complete, the souls of all mankind  have been taken for the last appraisal. As the world washes away and burns to ash simultaneously, the FOUR take  their swift departure to the west, leaving only destruction and ghostly whispers of distant memories. Memories of a once thriving population. One not so bent on self destruction and utter disregard for their surroundings.

  What could bring such a horrific demise to  an entire planet rich with  resource and bountiful in its raw beauty? Most certainly the catalyst for the  swift destruction of all the worlds people  was the never ending Greed. Greed for wealth…Greed for power…..Greed for  higher status both in politics and in  religion…..And finally the ultimate reason for Apocalyptic Doom? The  irreversible damage being done to the Exquisite home bestowed upon us by the Creator of all that is good and kind. WHOMEVER that shall be. For the anger caused by  the reckless destruction of such a beautiful gift, was undoubtedly what brought  the “Quartet of  DELIVERANCE” charging  through the land……

 

MY MUSE

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  There are many who I can point to directly  that have a definite influence on my tireless imagination. The list is long with people who drive my creative impulse. But I must take the opportunity to bring to light one in particular. Someone who captures my imagination like lightning in a bottle, only to use it to further stoke my passion for the exploration of life through my wandering thoughts.

  She arrives to me in my daydreams as if carried by the wings of a dragon. An inspiration so powerful that she too must be a mythical creature. But I know it is real. So real in fact, that she makes my world of thought come to life in a vivid collection of images and words. The perfect contrast and compliment to my imagination and reality. The push to my pull, light to my dark, and perpetually the balance to any wavering of personal well being. The perfect answers to all of my questions, and better still the right questions to my many answers.

  She undoubtedly is the creative YIN to my imaginative YANG. For this I am eternally grateful, and I hope she is able to recognize how instrumental she is in my journey to explore the twisting, shadow fallen path that is the roadmap to my creative mind. My greatest hope is that she will remain by my side, or never be so far away that I am not able to draw from her bottomless well of inspiration. For all this, the only emotions I can put forth now are heartfelt gratitude, and endless thanks to you…….MY MUSE.

Welcome to my Imagination

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WELCOME……

Welcome my friends

    I welcome you all to the darkest corners of my active imagination.

Join me in my travels through thought and the intrigue it provides,

as I forge through this existence looking for answers to meaningless

questions,  trying to find peace of mind, as a world in seemingly

hopeless turmoil collapses around me.

   My mind wanders constantly. Occasionally it will focus on the 

optimistic and attempts to creatively shed light on the negativity

that is current reality in our earthly existence. 

   More often than not, however, it is these very negative places that

compel me to put pen to paper and let my imagination take me to a

much darker and far more interesting place. It is the place of heavy

shadows and things that cannot be seen that fascinate me. The

adrenaline produced by fear, and the tension created by the

ominous unknown will always be my dark mistress.

   So take my hand if you dare, and walk with me through the dark

forests of my mind, the twisted labyrinth that is my imagination.

If you walk alongside me, as I observe the obscure and frightening

realities that lie in wait for me in my thoughts, I think you will

discover as I have that when we are terrified is also when we feel

the most alive. Senses are sharper, the air more crisp, colors seem

brighter, and those dark thoughts previously mentioned seem to be

 in the clearest focus imaginable.

   So now you have only to take my hand and come with me. We

have much to see, you and I……. I promise to show you all I know

and will leave nothing back as I lead you through the madness that

governs my thoughts and ideas. We shall never be the same. There

is no going back. But I feel strongly that if you trust and follow me

closely, you will come to know that this is exactly where you belong.

   Let the shadows envelop you as we take our first steps together.

Hand in hand we walk into the dark mist and disappear into the

uncertain new ground that is my arcane imagination………