16.8.11
wasting
I'm Wasting.
wastingminutes.wastingspace.
and thats why fromnow on.
ill try my
very best to stopwasting
andwandering
andhiding
anddestroying myself down.
because even though imake great efforts to stopwasting,
im still wasting all my efforts.
© 2011 the still air
29.7.11
The problems with simplicity are as follows:
We waste no time figuring a way out
because the path rests rightinfront of our feet,
and we're amazed when
the pages of instructions lead us to the complete,
but isn't that exactly what they're for?
The simplest of designs can portray
the exact same messages
that are
some of the most controversial and complicated presages.
and complicated doesn't run our planet earth anymore.
We're trapped inside an age of simplicity,
starting at A and landing at B,
connecting dots that were so obviously layed before us,
because we want things A.S.A.P.
it's a struggle just to try to paint a picture.
And if we fall out of the flow with no simple mindedness,
we run out into the world with extreme eccentricity,
and we, at often times, find ourselves,
falling into the simpleness of simplicity.
Is there a problem?
the simple brilliance of a simple man,
can simply drive him to finish what he intends,
with a whole new outlook, and whole new eyes,
just so things will be easier in the end.
Are we in an age of laziness?
Or are we just simply brilliant.
because there are thousands upon thousands of ways,
to complete simple tasks, and there are easier ways,
to complete them, so the complex mind will appraise.
And this is where complexity stands strong.
with what we know, we can play out every outcome,
and we can shadow the easiest and more efficient way,
but by opening up our minds to the complexion of every situation,
and realizing that we don't have to live in dog days
anymore.
and realizing that the most difficult of tasks,
can be tackled with new eyes and we can clear away the haziness,
and discover efficiency over the old ways
and we can exercise every place in our brain and know that it's not laziness
but simple brilliance.
Simpleness is the world I’m growing up in,
and i plan on making my contribution simpler,
by tackling things with brand new eyes.
and walking life a little easier.
© 2011 the still air
21.7.11
Get In the Car
Transgressions and transformations.
Reincarnations of tattered souls.
Remember what dreams are composed of,
Remember we are only fools.
If we don't accept changes,
And live strictly off of hypotheses,
The only change we could undergo,
Is end of friendships and new enemies.
You see our mind has a mind of it's own,
And within it is our functions,
And we control our functions,
So change is all part of that motion.
Openness is a saint.
We cannot conduct energy,
Unless we accept all transgressions,
And become the transformer for the enemy.
Everyone is the enemy,
And we are all due for new formation,
So please don't be scared,
when the lights touch down in new motions.
Keep the car running.
Keep the engines purr,
To be heard from a distance.
To be heard.
© 2011 the still air
Reincarnations of tattered souls.
Remember what dreams are composed of,
Remember we are only fools.
If we don't accept changes,
And live strictly off of hypotheses,
The only change we could undergo,
Is end of friendships and new enemies.
You see our mind has a mind of it's own,
And within it is our functions,
And we control our functions,
So change is all part of that motion.
Openness is a saint.
We cannot conduct energy,
Unless we accept all transgressions,
And become the transformer for the enemy.
Everyone is the enemy,
And we are all due for new formation,
So please don't be scared,
when the lights touch down in new motions.
Keep the car running.
Keep the engines purr,
To be heard from a distance.
To be heard.
© 2011 the still air
Labels:
Decision,
Fascination,
Purpose,
Realization,
Regret
13.7.11
bring life back home
put the fire out inside me.
please stop this burning sensation.
please rem ve ev ry th ught.
give me slight desire for segregation.
heal the burns, clot the wounds.
rem ve the sc rs.
give me peace. give me rest.
take away the dark.
bring life back home .
© 2011 the still air
please stop this burning sensation.
please rem ve ev ry th ught.
give me slight desire for segregation.
heal the burns, clot the wounds.
rem ve the sc rs.
give me peace. give me rest.
take away the dark.
bring life back home .
© 2011 the still air
Labels:
Fear,
Loneliness,
Memories,
Missing Someone,
Regret,
Useless
time zones and coordinates
Timezones and coordinates
are both fancy ways of saying,
“I’m over here, you’re over there,
and there are borders keeping,
us apart.”
But placing facts out of the way,
I could never say, “in this distance,
I can still feel you here.
It’s like our bodies still remain in coexistence,
state.”
And I could never flatten the world,
drain every ocean, or build bridges.
I can’t decrease the distance,
by moving tectonic plates small tiny smidges,
because that would ruin the world,
just to make me happy.
© 2011 The Still Air
are both fancy ways of saying,
“I’m over here, you’re over there,
and there are borders keeping,
us apart.”
But placing facts out of the way,
I could never say, “in this distance,
I can still feel you here.
It’s like our bodies still remain in coexistence,
state.”
And I could never flatten the world,
drain every ocean, or build bridges.
I can’t decrease the distance,
by moving tectonic plates small tiny smidges,
because that would ruin the world,
just to make me happy.
© 2011 The Still Air
25.6.11
Hide in the light
Sometimes just the fact,
That facts turn into reasons,
Becomes reasons to hide,
Hide from the seasons.
And sometimes the world,
Causes our world to tremble,
Trembling in firery fear,
And the fear to disassemble.
So sometimes it's ok,
To not be ok in the night,
Because night time brings darkness,
And darkness finds we hide in the light,
When it comes around.
© 2011 The Still Air
That facts turn into reasons,
Becomes reasons to hide,
Hide from the seasons.
And sometimes the world,
Causes our world to tremble,
Trembling in firery fear,
And the fear to disassemble.
So sometimes it's ok,
To not be ok in the night,
Because night time brings darkness,
And darkness finds we hide in the light,
When it comes around.
© 2011 The Still Air
24.6.11
Body and Soul
"Do you believe in angels?"
She said,
As she placed her hood,
Upon her head,
And let the rain fall,
All around her,
With an umbrella at her side,
Embracing the cool water.
"Do you believe there’s,
Someone watching?
Someone who knows,
How were moving?
Someone who knows,
Every last sway,
And every last footstep,
And every last day?"
With that I said,
"Close your eyes,
Listen to the sounds,
And realize,
That with nights we have left,
There’s just so many thoughts,
To let run through our heads,
To run us overwrought."
"I was curious,
Of what its like to die,"
She said, "for every person,
There's not enough stars in the sky.
If we were meant,
To be alive,
I’m sure the angels,
Would make us realize,
That a star,
Has no conception,
To our,
Person."
So I took her hand,
And placed it over the moon,
To show her how dark,
The world could be soon,
And I said, "we’re all the moon,
We’re not the stars.
The angels are all flickering,
Guiding us through who we are.
I know the way,
You feel right now,
And I know the world,
Turns up somehow,
But in these dire days,
Please don’t separate,
Your body and soul,
Don’t contemplate,
Just step outside,
And breathe the air,
And realize,
That life’s not fair,
But it’s the people,
We hold close and dear,
It’s the people,
That we hold so near,
It’s the angels,
We all have in our hearts,
It’s the angels,
Who have grown to be a part,
of us
that make this life
worth living.
I do believe in angels,"
I said,
As I removed her hood,
From her head.
And let the rain,
Run down her face,
"Those are the angels,
washing your tears away."
© 2011 The Still Air
She said,
As she placed her hood,
Upon her head,
And let the rain fall,
All around her,
With an umbrella at her side,
Embracing the cool water.
"Do you believe there’s,
Someone watching?
Someone who knows,
How were moving?
Someone who knows,
Every last sway,
And every last footstep,
And every last day?"
With that I said,
"Close your eyes,
Listen to the sounds,
And realize,
That with nights we have left,
There’s just so many thoughts,
To let run through our heads,
To run us overwrought."
"I was curious,
Of what its like to die,"
She said, "for every person,
There's not enough stars in the sky.
If we were meant,
To be alive,
I’m sure the angels,
Would make us realize,
That a star,
Has no conception,
To our,
Person."
So I took her hand,
And placed it over the moon,
To show her how dark,
The world could be soon,
And I said, "we’re all the moon,
We’re not the stars.
The angels are all flickering,
Guiding us through who we are.
I know the way,
You feel right now,
And I know the world,
Turns up somehow,
But in these dire days,
Please don’t separate,
Your body and soul,
Don’t contemplate,
Just step outside,
And breathe the air,
And realize,
That life’s not fair,
But it’s the people,
We hold close and dear,
It’s the people,
That we hold so near,
It’s the angels,
We all have in our hearts,
It’s the angels,
Who have grown to be a part,
of us
that make this life
worth living.
I do believe in angels,"
I said,
As I removed her hood,
From her head.
And let the rain,
Run down her face,
"Those are the angels,
washing your tears away."
© 2011 The Still Air
Labels:
Confusion,
Looking Forward,
Love,
Purpose,
Realization
8.6.11
moonlight
The best i can be
only comes with moonlight
so it seems,
that sleeping isn't right.
It's the one time i'm useful,
so to let it go to waste,
is like pretending i don't exist,
like pretending my home's not a place.
© 2011 The Still Air
only comes with moonlight
so it seems,
that sleeping isn't right.
It's the one time i'm useful,
so to let it go to waste,
is like pretending i don't exist,
like pretending my home's not a place.
© 2011 The Still Air
not what i hear
why should someone like me,
deserve something so great.
why should someone like me,
have to sit and wait.
last night, there were signs,
loud and brilliant and bright,
and they were hidden in the sky,
and i slept right through the night.
i'm here because you want me here
not because anyone else wants me here.
if i was meant to be alive, then truly i would be,
but that's not what i hear.
© 2011 The Still Air
deserve something so great.
why should someone like me,
have to sit and wait.
last night, there were signs,
loud and brilliant and bright,
and they were hidden in the sky,
and i slept right through the night.
i'm here because you want me here
not because anyone else wants me here.
if i was meant to be alive, then truly i would be,
but that's not what i hear.
© 2011 The Still Air
7.6.11
If only I wouldn't miss you
If only i wouldn't miss you,
It would be so easy to dream constantly for weeks.
It would be so easy to disregard what life is.
It would be so easy to just disappear
And then reappear in silence.
If only i wouldn't miss you,
It would be so simple to slip away,
It would be so simple to let myself fall,
It would be so simple to let go of the railing
And catch on at the last second.
I would miss you,
It's not easy to dream at all, because you're so real,
It's not easy to think for a minute that i'm minuscule,
And it's not easy to know that leaving would mean leaving you,
And that's something i'm not willing to do.
I still can't wait to reach my home in the sand,
But i'm happy enough living in my home with you.
© 2011 The Still Air
© 2011 The Still Air
5.6.11
When lost at sea
location isn't key,
when you're lost at sea,
it's not the first thing to come to mind,
nor is the time.
You simply feel your way through
without fear of whats in front of you,
and in the moment of despair,
you'll remember you're still here.
No matter which way you steer,
you'll eventually come near,
the shore.
© 2011 The Still Air
when you're lost at sea,
it's not the first thing to come to mind,
nor is the time.
You simply feel your way through
without fear of whats in front of you,
and in the moment of despair,
you'll remember you're still here.
No matter which way you steer,
you'll eventually come near,
the shore.
© 2011 The Still Air
4.6.11
we're all the same, we're all uniqiue
we're all composed
of 206 bones
layered with skin
layered with sin
we're constantly told, "we're all the same"
blood cells, muscles, tissues, brain.
we all contain similar physique,
so why are we told, "we're all unique?"
our insides, in a way
are all the same,
though some pieces are missing,
hearts are still beating
pumping blood at intense pressure like some sort of perk,
brains are functioning even if they don't work
and we live the same life,
find our meaning, and then die,
so if we're all so unique
why are our days on repeat?
the outside is where the differences are.
we're labeled like we're in boxes and jars,
and sub-categorized for our own terms
even if we don't affirm.
if we looked in our mirrors,
would we see any clearer?
or would the question ponder
would we even slightly wonder.
are we all the same,
or all unique in different ways.
or are we all the same because we're all unique?
© 2011 The Still Air
of 206 bones
layered with skin
layered with sin
we're constantly told, "we're all the same"
blood cells, muscles, tissues, brain.
we all contain similar physique,
so why are we told, "we're all unique?"
our insides, in a way
are all the same,
though some pieces are missing,
hearts are still beating
pumping blood at intense pressure like some sort of perk,
brains are functioning even if they don't work
and we live the same life,
find our meaning, and then die,
so if we're all so unique
why are our days on repeat?
the outside is where the differences are.
we're labeled like we're in boxes and jars,
and sub-categorized for our own terms
even if we don't affirm.
if we looked in our mirrors,
would we see any clearer?
or would the question ponder
would we even slightly wonder.
are we all the same,
or all unique in different ways.
or are we all the same because we're all unique?
© 2011 The Still Air
30.5.11
The Train
A thought train leaving a station
appears to be heading to the little town of reasoning
instead of the city of facts.
Neither is more pleasing.
The train scheduled to leave at a quarter after four
reminds me that there is no rush this quiet morning.
reminds me that there are no more facts.
reminds me that everyone's thoughts shut down in the evening,
while mine just started its engine.
I fed it. I gave it coal.
and this reasoning that i should hate,
lacks all control.
and having no control,
just happens to be something I love.
© 2011 The Still Air
appears to be heading to the little town of reasoning
instead of the city of facts.
Neither is more pleasing.
The train scheduled to leave at a quarter after four
reminds me that there is no rush this quiet morning.
reminds me that there are no more facts.
reminds me that everyone's thoughts shut down in the evening,
while mine just started its engine.
I fed it. I gave it coal.
and this reasoning that i should hate,
lacks all control.
and having no control,
just happens to be something I love.
© 2011 The Still Air
28.5.11
a creature in territory
There are moments when I am just simply
a creature
wandering aimlessly among animal territory
without proper understanding of the measure .
Countless operations
seamless excavations
curious explorations
no restorations.
the creature I am in that moment of time
wandering among animal territory
makes me realize, perhaps just for myself,
how much the animal I actually am, in theory .
© 2011 The Still Air
a creature
wandering aimlessly among animal territory
without proper understanding of the measure .
Countless operations
seamless excavations
curious explorations
no restorations.
the creature I am in that moment of time
wandering among animal territory
makes me realize, perhaps just for myself,
how much the animal I actually am, in theory .
© 2011 The Still Air
17.5.11
Wake up
Wake up, wake up,
Youre wasting somuchtime.
Theres a world to hide from
When youre less than fine.
Slow down, slow down
And make the clock count
Spend time on what you know
Because falling asleep is barely an amount.
Slow down. Youre getting older.
Wake up. Sleep is a crime.
Slow down. The hands of the clock wont do it for you.
Wake up.
Sleep is a waste of time.
© 2011 The Still Air
Youre wasting somuchtime.
Theres a world to hide from
When youre less than fine.
Slow down, slow down
And make the clock count
Spend time on what you know
Because falling asleep is barely an amount.
Slow down. Youre getting older.
Wake up. Sleep is a crime.
Slow down. The hands of the clock wont do it for you.
Wake up.
Sleep is a waste of time.
© 2011 The Still Air
14.5.11
When was the last time?
When was the last time you stopped for a moment,
forgot what time was, forgot what movement was capable of at best
and just focused on you, blocked your mind from being potent,
listened to yourself breathe, listened to the heart inside your own chest?
when was the last time you even noticed your own existence
noticed that you are a human being wandering aimlessly along this planet earth,
but noticed that you are not just a human being wandering aimlessly looking for assistance
but realized that you are something worth talking about. you are something with worth?
when was the last time you listened to your own breathing?
© 2011 The Still Air
forgot what time was, forgot what movement was capable of at best
and just focused on you, blocked your mind from being potent,
listened to yourself breathe, listened to the heart inside your own chest?
when was the last time you even noticed your own existence
noticed that you are a human being wandering aimlessly along this planet earth,
but noticed that you are not just a human being wandering aimlessly looking for assistance
but realized that you are something worth talking about. you are something with worth?
when was the last time you listened to your own breathing?
© 2011 The Still Air
30.3.11
the door at the bottom of the sea
Sea sights; no sight has ever been seen
like these sights
and fights, i might consider
opening a door at the bottom
of the sea.
I might consider reconsidering my consideration
to open that door at the bottom
of the sea.
only because fear drives the driving thoughts
that fight the lights in my frightful head.
and it steers the freight ship charging through
ruggid waters.
the sea.
the frightened freights fight forward
and when they stop
when all else fails
thats when i'll reconsider
considering diving deep down
to open that door
at the bottom of the sea.
© 2011 The Still Air
like these sights
and fights, i might consider
opening a door at the bottom
of the sea.
I might consider reconsidering my consideration
to open that door at the bottom
of the sea.
only because fear drives the driving thoughts
that fight the lights in my frightful head.
and it steers the freight ship charging through
ruggid waters.
the sea.
the frightened freights fight forward
and when they stop
when all else fails
thats when i'll reconsider
considering diving deep down
to open that door
at the bottom of the sea.
© 2011 The Still Air
1.2.11
february
remember persuasion
remember passion
remember cold air
and the kisses here
remember the heart beats
remember the warm treats
remember the flames
inside small frames
remember her eyes
remember good nights
remember the photographs
that hold time and momentful laughs
remember the renew
things you'd never undo
remember the symmetry
of mid february
© 2011 The Still Air
remember passion
remember cold air
and the kisses here
remember the heart beats
remember the warm treats
remember the flames
inside small frames
remember her eyes
remember good nights
remember the photographs
that hold time and momentful laughs
remember the renew
things you'd never undo
remember the symmetry
of mid february
© 2011 The Still Air
30.1.11
There is something about these dragonfly's
are they kissing the water
deciding if the taste is worth settling with ?
or are they touching their feet along the surface
wishing they could swim alongside the fish?
is the congregation communicating
about a possible shift traverse ?
or are they just being peaceful
lazily waiting for the intense heat to disperse?
i wonder if the instinct of the dragonfly's mind
is as complex as that of me or her
and i can't help but wonder
if the connection between them is instinctively defer
or truly something so much more vibrant
and containing so much more complexion
than the simple motion i take to move us
using a complex set of systems controlled by minds election .
simply done
but difficult to explain why
is that a feeling
felt by these dragonfly's ?
is instinct part of me or us
like the instincts of the creatures ?
or is it more than that?
is it beyond measures?
if these tiny swift creatures understood love
would their intents be the same ?
or would they be confused on who they are or what they are for
similar to the thoughts that make us insane?
or would they still follow their instincts
but treat the other as a muse ?
there's just something fascinating about these dragonfly's
that have me captivated and amused.
© 2011 The Still Air
deciding if the taste is worth settling with ?
or are they touching their feet along the surface
wishing they could swim alongside the fish?
is the congregation communicating
about a possible shift traverse ?
or are they just being peaceful
lazily waiting for the intense heat to disperse?
i wonder if the instinct of the dragonfly's mind
is as complex as that of me or her
and i can't help but wonder
if the connection between them is instinctively defer
or truly something so much more vibrant
and containing so much more complexion
than the simple motion i take to move us
using a complex set of systems controlled by minds election .
simply done
but difficult to explain why
is that a feeling
felt by these dragonfly's ?
is instinct part of me or us
like the instincts of the creatures ?
or is it more than that?
is it beyond measures?
if these tiny swift creatures understood love
would their intents be the same ?
or would they be confused on who they are or what they are for
similar to the thoughts that make us insane?
or would they still follow their instincts
but treat the other as a muse ?
there's just something fascinating about these dragonfly's
that have me captivated and amused.
© 2011 The Still Air
24.1.11
waking to lime light.
Chasing the wake
catching the shoreline
leaving a dream
to find the time
everchanging so slowly
hands moving with a slight
sense of actual time
under the lime light.
© 2011 The Still Air
catching the shoreline
leaving a dream
to find the time
everchanging so slowly
hands moving with a slight
sense of actual time
under the lime light.
© 2011 The Still Air
14.1.11
Focus
The act of concentratingthethoughts,
The art of moving your eyes,
Along each detail and smile line
In the second you realize;
The beautiful scenery allaround,
Will CONCOMITANTLY d sappear
as the continuous eyelock begins,
and you focus on only what'snear.
© 2011 The Still Air
The art of moving your eyes,
Along each detail and smile line
In the second you realize;
The beautiful scenery allaround,
Will CONCOMITANTLY d sappear
as the continuous eyelock begins,
and you focus on only what'snear.
© 2011 The Still Air
6.1.11
heartbeat language
the heartbeat is a language all of its own;
its rhythm's identify with another
and detect the speed, motion, and accent
and finds the right dialect to let emotions flutter.
when the language matches another heart,
the two translate, instill, and seal
because the words are worth remembering
as chest comes to chest and rhythms all they feel.
© 2011 The Still Air
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