oblivious lies

wish’s are giving way to lies

all the time they wont realize

oblivious to what they say

searching for a perfect fey

 

oblivious wishes, people who cant see

that all they want is surrounding them

why cant they just give-in

to the consistency of everything

why is difference so entrancing ?

why do they keep on dancing?

 

oblivious lies, half believed half truths

broken ties, connections are splitting

stupid guys, propagate misogyny

taboo dies,  i say fuck the patriarchy

obvious lies, now the chains are crumbling

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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the 99 tales, the second

A mountain stood for a score of scores of scores of seasons. one day a young boy ventured to its foot, he looked up at it, and swore that he would become like that mountain.

when his parents herd what he had promised , they laughed,

“the mountain is a score of scores of scores, you are not yet two score seasons in your life, you will never be like the mountain”

so the boy was dejected, and for a time he forgot the mountain, but the mountain did not forget him. Every year on the night he had sworn to be like the mountain, he dreamed of the mountain, and of himself, becoming like it.

this went on until the boy was an old old man, he grew wizened, and frail, and he could no longer draw his bow. one day the son of his son came to him, in tears

“why do you weep?” the old man asked

and the boy replied, “I weep because i am not like the mountain”

and the man replied to the boy

“do you know the sound of wind over grass?”

and the boy said “yes”

“do you know the feeling of a rock in your shoes?”

and the boy said “yes”

then the old man said

“do you know the taste of the wind in your throat?”

and the boy said “yes”

then the old man said

“if you know all this, and nothing more you are a mountain, but if you know the time to lie down, the mountain, is you, for then you are more than a mountain”

 

 

the 99 tales, the first

There was once an old woman, her family was all gone, and she was no student of any home, so she was cared for by the village

one day this woman died, and the choice came of whom would own her home, the first to speak was the smith.

“I mended her pots, and made her hinges, so what was hers should be mine”

then spoke the shepherd,

“I gave her wool to make her clothes, and milk for her to drink, so what was hers should be mine”

then the baker spoke

“i gave her bread to eat, and coal for her stove, so what was hers should be mine”

then the wind spoke

“i gave the forge its fire, and made the grass  grow under the sheep, and raised the grain for the bread, so what was hers is mine”

and then the wind, swept her home away, though it had stood strong, leaving nothing for any other.

 

seven words for you

I cant say that I love you

I wish I could feel for you

I wish I could feel WITH you

I want to be within your muse

you are radiant in your gentle strength

I will never stop hoping for you

You will never have to say sorry

you’ll never have to tell me twice

I wont ever stop watching your mood

If I find your name, it’s free

if you ever find mine keep it

 

knives

Flight is a thing I’ve never dreamed

Far too futile it’s ever seemed,

The loft of heaven lifts me not

Joys of the land I’ve not forgot

I stand on floors and sandy shores

Staring out to things untoward

The knives will fill my dreams

 

Kinesthetic memories wake as I walk

I judge the distance to a heart,

Or consider murderous trains of thought

And even if I cease to talk

Or my finger gives a sudden start

I try to forget what I’ve fought

lithani (ballance)

The key difference that makes civility

Is in the abstinence, unfollowed urge

withholding excess, no more or less

I have what I could ever need

no lack of what is needed

imbalance is not of

in the lithani

 

specters path

Black hooded, specters path
Fast approaching psychopath
Wielding entropic wrath

Men are born and blades are falling

Reap and sow,
Die and grow
All soon struck low

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling

Deadly now a falling scythe
Legends flow into myth
Even now the victims writhe

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling

Bodies covered in soft lace
Finally finished race
Slain by a foe they cannot face

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling
Body’s shorn, death so galling

men ever on do try
never once reason why
once born destined to die

Men are born and blades are falling
Skin is torn and babes are crawling
Cloth is worn and boys are brawling
Body’s shorn, death so galling
Now they mourn, widows bawling

 

 

Lethani

let me now

enter the way

that is for my good

harried by no evil

at peace for my path is set

now I walk through the long night

In lethani

rider’s calls

Sometimes I wonder as I’m walking

Why my live would give me déjà vu

And some evenings when I’m sleeping

I can’t bear to see this thru.

 

Some nights I’m creeping thru the shadow

Stalking shapes I’ll never see again

Shooting till I run out of ammo

Surrounded by dead men

 

The staking fear can define me

Hunting, I don’t know why

Worried someone will see

They just won’t die

 

Another night I stride alone

Feet unshod against the sand

Over hills and seas of bone

Finding strange foreign lands

 

There are suns many through the night

One meets another, flash and Fuse

Filling bitter hearts with fright

Providing fragile waking muse

 

Lands of violet, floors of ice

Shelves flowing with tomes

Wrenching tugs come thrice

Hands are limp, innocent’s moans

 

Pennants fly over walls

Roads lead through darkened land

Alone, a rider calls

Hooves stirring sand

 

Running fires burn, caged

Begging for me to stay

Burning fires once raged

For once, I am prey

 

Often unclear, what is true?

Unbound more awakening

Still I wait for those few

Thus my enlightening