Missing

A creature born with out a home

A man who sleeps upon a stone

Missing every piece of bread

Living life but looking dead

His head bowed low before its time

Humbled, without reason or rhyme

The pattern of the ticking clock

Sometimes, he wishes his would stop

What brought him here?

Is he to blame? 

In what way

will his Demon’s tame?

Why was he left here to rot?

Maybe the victim of some plot?

Is he not human?

Like you -- or me

How does he die, when people see?

I saw him fall the other day

I reached out but he deplored

“I can make it” “walk on by”

“ just like you did the times before”

What made me bend and change my way?

What made me look and my time, pay?

Is there more to life than this

I live my life but “LIFE” I miss

Is my path - for me alone?

Do I see people or just the drone?

Slave to things - I think, make me free

But in the end, they just own me!!!

My Rush To Do

Tasks To Complete

When their done

They just deplete

I miss the things that mean the most

Love people much

 and

let --- “things” ----go

The Sleeping Stone

Awake and Asleep – Throughout All Time

Aware and Dreaming – Seem Just Fine

The surface changed but beneath the same

Just like the clothing of the People GAME

Silent Observer of things gone by

Lover of rest, and peace, and sky

Knower of Truth and Nature HE

Never Deceived by the HUMAN be

Long Deep Breaths

Sometimes a soft sigh

Creaking Frustration

A Still Small Cry

One Thousand years - just like a blink

Ageless mind, solid, resolute, with out a chink

Philosopher and Teacher of all our past

Knowing that our time here will never last

Watching us in our youth and our lessons learned

Our mistakes, heart aches, and the ground that we turned

The ideas thought, virtues sought, and lives we lost

He believing and hopping the best from us all

His world to us given

Capable of such good

To grow and become

The Strength of this sphere

But time goes by

He sees our new clothing

On the surface were changing

But beneath were the same

A youth with out discipline

Wayward son – Unfastened Daughter

In the clothes of the Hero

but beneath

Cowering, Fearing, Lust Driven, Disobedient

Child

His Hope for us dashed

Our true nature he sees

Instead of the Human bringing life

we brings a disease.

Escape

---- Ok this is not about me --- it is a poem written from reflecting on my occupation ---- Seriously!

Gazing through a fence

Hatched pattern in the twilight

Scan of my surroundings

Barren – Empty

Nothing warm within my sight

Thinking through a riddled sketch

Mapping out my flight

Sorting through this puzzle

Seems less difficult at night

The cold is coming on

Winter purchased by our toil

Soon the ground will harden

A bitter swathe of frozen bite

My naked feet upon the stone

No shoes to part them from the cold

Will my dash be worth the ache

I know I mustn’t hesitate

Will I be found

Will I Fail

Will they take me far from here

Who will I be

when my journey ends

Can I evade

and make amends

Bound by things I can’t control

My choices made inside a bowl

Limits of my life itself

And not of things selected by myself

My Land of my birth

Or of my wealth

My Genetic Path

Or of final earth

This place I’m in

Results, of my course

But charted by something

Outside my source

my map unfold

my story told

will it be changed  when I am old

Is it my trade to find

 a way to shift?

To move beyond my FATED rift

A choice to flee

Seems like a gift

Or

Does it make me more adrift?

How Small?

World wide insanity

Is death to all Humanity

We reject Divine and worship self

We store ideals high on a shelf

The past we Forget

we repeat it

again and again

In different forms and different ways

But we are the same, we never change

We all scream

“Babies are dieing in the streets”

But we're all silent

When we kill them in the womb

I ask you if their human

But you don’t really know

So you take a chance and end the life

You never ever see them grow

So is injured in the end

Whose rights are failed to defend

They have no voice

They can not speak

They have no choice

They are the “weak”

Pretentious Hero

Pretending Friend

Your battle shout  “lift up the wronged”

But you fail to defend

Who is smaller

Who is more wronged

Who can say less

Who less belonged

You see an issue

an issues is all

But in the words of the poet

"A person’s a person, no matter how small!"

The Real

Always moving

Is it really improving?

I keep spinning round

Everyday

A little closer to the ground

  

Feels just like night

When the day begins, will it really bring light?

It’s been dark for so long

Does the Sun still exist?

Or is it just a myth, getting lost in the mist?

This place is in haze

Like a drug induced daze

Can't tell what is really REAL

Over emotions that you feel

Progression – Regression?

I don’t really know

What does it take to make a World grow?

A weed behind glass or a seed in a Jar

We keep it in the lab and never get very far

If the seed is never sown

and the plant never grown

The lesson not taught

words never known

Is it a thought in a bottle?

Whisper in the dark

An idea under cover

A theme without a start

Should it be concealed?

Tucked away

Not reveled

Or hidden in places

Buried in some great field

What is this strange thing?

that's so dangerous to man

Because, it not someting

He can hold in his hand

To own it, posses it, explain it away

He can't manipulate TRUTH

Only "Perspective" this way

The Walk

I walk away, into a storm that blacks out light. With each step I take, I think I'm losing all my fight. Walking to places I thought i never see. After all of this, I guess I'm still wondering who, someday, I'll be.
The rain that's coming down feels like its penetrating my soul. My mind is bused and my heart is feeling cold. The skin that wraps me in, is barely holding on. So when I fall apart - I fall apart for good.

My life is like a stick, attached to a string, sitting in a river that keeps pulling me. Tied to people, places, and things. With out them I'm not sure where I would be

Three

worlds, hearts, minds --- needing, longing, hoping, watching, learning, still loving

------- Always Holding ME ------ Keeping ME ------ Here -------

Something outside of me still trying to hold my hand. I flinch, I cringe, I cry.

Its better than I am.

The warmth is alien and love cuts me. It hurts and its my nature to back away.

Born into a place that teaches me to avoid the uncomfortable. To open myself up seems idiotic and impossible.

You want to know my thoughts but they are all tucked away. I want to access them but it feels safer - better off this way.

riddles - snippets - wonder

I wait patiently

The Evolution Of NEM

Limitless Void
Unruly Companion
Insanity Guiding
The World

Hiding

Where does it go
When will it end
From where have we come
Does it still have a friend

We use to

lean - TRUST - listen - LEARN
HOPE - humble - LOVE - Yearn

Do we still have a guide
Has he left us alone
No "ONE" by our side
Or

Have we left our home

The World is more FLAT
Than its ever been
It's smaller
It's colder
Is it near an end?

Oh time will continue
But so much for men
For we have lost all virtue
And evolved into nem

It's backwards, I tell you!
We stand on our heads
We spend all day pondering
The "FUN" that's ahead

Civilisation is only a way to indulge
Our lusts and Our stomachs
Beginning to bulge
The end of the human
The end of it all

Somehow evolving
Into a creature
Resembling a BALL

Outcast

I close my eyes
So I can see
I shut out my heart
I try to find me

Abandoned - Outcast
Untouchable fiend

The grass cuts
I try to step softly
But Each gash -
Reminds me

Life - Distributes pain - Pain has no favorites

The weight of my history
The mass of it
Unshakable - Unbreakable - Impenetrable

Fog

I know what I've done
I know where I've been
When this is all over
Will I still call you friend

Awake in the night
Like an owl or ghost
Waking to find
I am alone

Perhaps I'm mistaken
And I am its pet
Will I always be I limited
By the things I regret

Can I move beyond
Can I heal my own hurt
If only time can bring healing
Then what is my work

Can't Stay Awake!!!!!

You know its bad when:

1. You have already taken your ADD meds
2. You have had 2 cups of Jim's "special" coffee

and you cant tsay kewaa

bttre tyr aother cup of cofeff

The End

A claim to a knowledge
Baffling at least
Finite and limited
The mind of a thief

Walking the Pathways
Opening the Doors
The smell of Dust
and years gone, before

Looking - Seeking
Pondering and Grief
The Rigger - the toil
No rest or relief

Intellectual Poverty
Whats New? Whats New?
We try to find novelty
Forgetting whats True

For the sake of the glory
To break out of the old
Tradition and Ritual
"Rejection" is Gold

Be your own person
Make your own right
But how can you judge me
When I choose to fight

If no thoughts are better
If no ideas are King
Then there's nothing defining

Murder

or Stealing

The culture that rapes the minds of our youth
We force them to believe that - "there is no great truth!"

Life is what you make it
I've herd more than one say
As if I'm the definer - the designer
Today

So have your "great fun" - There's no end! - There's no purpose!

Experience and Passion
Are all we have left
So from your own, perspective
You live the life you "think" best

Where's the guide of the blind
or the healers of thought
No mentors - no fathers
To show us wrong and whats right

For today's "great philosophers" -

who say experience is KING

They're still and silent

Prefer the end

of a gun

The Man Of The Hour

Wrapped in a blanket of history and pain
A cloth that's torn and dragged through the puddles

In the rain

Individual Story - Where is the glory?

Cascading chaos

Perpetually Infinite

WHO are we at the end of this day? Who are any of us and what have we to say? Where will we go and to whom will we turn? Our drama, our play, our movie, or book. Our life is a magazine with an absent outlook! Internally we gaze, our hearts are ablaze with greed, with self, with pride, and anger! We know who we are and the drive that's within and yet we live on and on - AND still we pretend!

Duplicity, Duality - is it yin? is it yang? for in them their is unity and in us - just insanity

In one mind we live - to our own ends, alone

The other we shout - "for the homeless, a home!"

"We write our own stories" - is the chant and the mantra!

And in them we fall, we fail, we die.

No meaning - no purpose - no truth - no love

We make it our own

and "REAL LIFE" we disown

Hey there Blogonots!

Been a while - like over a year - so just thought I would throw out an update.

I just started a comparative study of the Stoic concept of the Logos to the Tao. My hope is to discover a philosophical, historical, and cultural link between the two thoughts. I believe that such concepts are not only self-evident but are also divinely inspired.

I will intro you to the topic soon - I think :)

Jim