Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Thursday, August 29, 2013


Destiny reveals coffee with and without the cream.

I go on rereading chapters
from my yesterdays,
as I try to recapture
what has long since
passed away.

My heart is numb as
I sit here thinking of
you and wondering
if you ever think of
me too.

I tried to rewrite
and change reality
but the consequence
of my choices revealed
a finality.

I go on rereading chapters
from my yesterdays,
as I try to recapture
what has long since
passed away.


I can sense the changing,
like as season passes  by,
knowing that tomorrow
is no longer yours and mine.

I felt it in the morning,
when I woke up to the dark,
my soul still running  and
a stillness to my heart.

I have watched a train change its tracks many times before,
but there is something quite final about the path in store.
It is not the desired destination that I once dreamed,
but more like a section of life that flutters on reality.

There is only one way to describe what is happening, as my
heart beats much slower when you are not here with me.
The skies lost their blue and the sun no longer shines
as my day is ruled by darkness that toys with my mind.

I hung on to hope
that tomorrow would
bring the truth of
happiness to you
and me.

I don't like turning pages,
as a few are weathered and torn
and as I remove them from the
book I find my heart has mourned.

Souls in passing,
a body withers so
as a heart still breaks
there is nothing left to

I tried to get beyond the truth of my day,
but life kept pulling me down to earth
and shackling my soul to the gray.

I once danced upon the cloud,
saw the stars, watched them sparkle.
I once lived a dream , touched a
heart , heard it sing.
I once escaped the hell,


One moment in review

I thought I found a place where I could run away, the ultimate for the mind and soul to escape, the further into the journey, the more distant you stood. Like a child in circles I was trapped in the woods. The thicket awfully heavy with brier bush all around, but with winters clothes, I kept closer to the ground. A few thorns made their way into the surface of my skin, just enough to remind me I wasn’t sleeping in.

Finally a top the mountain, where the land levels off , I tried to distant the memories, not to give them any thought. The sky draped like a canopy, repelled the saddening of the heart, sealing in the sounds of a song bird, the melody of the Lark.

Covering so much territory and still no where to go, the moments filled with mystery hadn't let me go. Leaves of Oak that had dried and fallen on the ground, created a bed , inviting to lay the soul on down. For a few moments I curled like a baby in its worldly womb, secure without the darkness that most certainly can loom. Moments rushed to hours and I questioned where I stood, I was lost in my mind with very little understood.

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