wrapped

sponged ears, slow motioned breaths in and do they come out? bubble wrapped body suffocating and hidden but breathing and happy, lulling soothed voices in a light hum, ecstasy risen from an intangible place, gut tightens in awareness and wonderings of the ahead road. moment and sunset. not knowing is blessed as is knowing. 

no name

in this small box in the large world, im in too deep it scares me, I could lose 'stuff; and it not bother my soul because i am loved but im not sure that i love this life yet. to touch my own face feels like a elusion , i am watching me, what and who are you?

what is needed is a hill, and i will feel peace in myself one day to come after which i see what i have been seeking; but thinking the mind over drive can make the appreciation of life itself disappear.

to find such balance is the journeys soul reason to stay alive.

that it was life is.

chasing leaves

Paths and Bridges, relax in parks and stand in front of fridges, never fear, tis life and take it like water from a ducks back. Back off from the hustle and bustle your own moves on the dance floor, rhythm in steps but freedom in the beat, of the drums from another place,              far from the street

truth

Heavy legs but carrying me strong , beating sun but peek-a boo clouding, strength in weakness and santas beard floating for wishes, not all dreams should be true, but in ourself we do.

peter fights pan

sure as i am breathing sure as i am mad. connection to shadow and light, sub conscience  is mad. peter fighting the pan and into the fire of life. looking back for a second, cut the innocence with a knife. taken back, everyday, to savor the making. i am not mistaking this life. its mine and in my shadow lies something divine.

two faces mind like a bird free

to be two in one deal flying and grounded. heart beating and it sounds like feathers. my skull her skull. the skull thats left of her, that is all. we have a journey flight or fight. gallop on hard ground toward something. for something. life is fucking beautiful and beautifully fucked up. pick one. pick her and fly forward for one day we will all be but a skull. 

so yeah tribal head