Cells.

Constantly dividing.
Cells becoming.
Cells outnumber.
Self encumbered.
Blocked from something.
Acts of nothing.
Always numbing
What's becoming.

Whipped.

Whipping through the winds
Desperate to see
Just a glimpse of the sun
Or the passing of trees.
Unable to pause
I am still on the move.
Washing on by
Forced into the groove.
Impossible sights
Blurred by momentum
Distinct in a moment
I'm blind to the outcome.
No time for reaction
Becoming a dream
I'm drawing the lines
As I'm loosing the seam.

Elements.

The light that guides you
And the fire that burns.
A river flows
Over the falls that churn.
The wind refreshes
As it eats through stone.
The soil that takes you
Brings a flower grown.

Fire.

Running hard
Desperate for escape.
Smashing through the trees.
Breaking through.
Slowed to a crawl
Branches thick like bone.
Smashing at the trees.
Breaking down.
Strangled lungs
Amidst the leaves.
Wafting arms.
Stopped by the wind.
Eyes are closing
Lids like fire doors.
Breath like fire.
No more.

Stunned.

Pitching in the darkness
I think I'm alone.
Fumbling for answers
And something to hold.
Less of an answer
More of a thought.
Without my dear anchor
I'm lost and distraught.
Light starts to enter
Just as I shout.
Nothing obscene
Yet I'll make one no doubt.
I'm lost and distorted.
Blind and confused.
I'm openly weeping.
Stunned and bemused.

Everything.

It's a stupid, nothing body.
You could live forever and it really would not matter.
But not the face.
There in lies the world you share with all of us.
Or not.
Most of us not.
Through fear and desperation we hide away all that we believe will turn another to disgust us.
To despise all that we are, and subsequently invalidate all that we thought that we were.
This is an error.
Your face is the illusive, complex map to your heart.
It is your ready to work sherpa.
A guide to the stunning contours of all that makes you a wonder to those who love you.
Once set free, it is an open book for the ones who wish to know you.
It is neither stupid, nor nothing.
It is you and it is everything.

Engines.

Sailing through utter darkness.
I am surrounded by all that I fear.
By all that I hold dear.
A twist of love and hate,
where neither is truely clear.
A dead end.
A deaf ear.
Where to stear this vessel
When I'm lost and don't know where my engines lie.
Left and right are neither here nor there.
Neither then or now.
Who or how.
And yet I am at the helm.
Rudderless and laughing.
For what else can I do?
Hold on to nothing while falling into everything?
Looking for whatever clears a path.
A click.
A clap.
A sneeze.
If life comes back and clarity holds its breathe for a moment of solace.
I could see
Or I could grasp with a sense of where I am.
I can hold,
Or maybe let go
Whatever holds me on the ropes.
Grips me by the throat.
I should be strong.
Should really know.
Should hold the goal and not let go.
Should break my fall.
For where I land no creature knows.
I am master of nothing
And all things know that where minds go no man should follow.
No hand should borrow from a grown mans sorrow.
In places where we fall.
We all feel.
Gripping thoughts we all reveal
To ourselves and no one else.
Landing at the feet of men
Who offer nothing.
No collection of our moments.
Neither saint nor sinner left among us.
Not a purity of life that lifts the light of others.
We all report to our own borrowed sense of knowledge,
Sorrow,
Enlightenment,
A grasp of being better by the day,
And now we know that there is no one more important than ourselves.
We clap,
We howl,
And shout at stars and galaxies because we can.
Without a sense of time to tie us to a language departed long before us.
We hang our losses on the ones around us.
Neglecting the men before them and the land that bore their warriors.
We are a being trapped in time.
A freedom with perameters.
A cluster of broken lines with which we wish we had a mind.
Yet we are not blind.
We hold on to things and find someone who holds on dear to us in kind.
A love.
A kinder soul.
A better mind.
A place and grounding.
Us defined.