The light the dark the clutter the clarity
The fight the art the utter disparity
The bite the bark the muttered vulgarities
We might depart from lovers for sanity
But every step away is a wound
There is no get away from the tune
That reminds you of them then blooms
flowers of memory whose scents fill the room
and that’s every song on every station
every film or book seems a representation
of your lost love or the sunken relation….
ship that has sailed
into troubled waters and successfully failed
for those who wished it…
out of existence
Errol Percival(Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion)
Have you seen my pain?
It resides where art stems from.
It tidies the tides of my musings.
Have you heard my pain?
It is in the hollow portion of my laughter.
It lends resonance.
Have you smelled my pain?
It wafts under the doors I keep barred.
It permeates my essence yielding compassion not complaint.
Have you tasted my pain?
It tastes like yours, albeit nuanced by my seasons.
Its flavor grows on you and I, evoking broken molds.
Have you felt my pain?
It’s ok if you haven’t.
I don’t wish it on anyone.
Daiikiru Akasha Maximillion
Tired for no apparent reason to those outside…
outside of what is concealed behind veiled pain…
How dare I share such debilitating energies of loss and abandonment?
How dare I bid another drink from a soiled grail?
How dare I remain and wallow in such?
How dare I abuse this life infused dust…
It didn’t go my way… yet.
My way remains to be seen.
As of now fingers point to the way and I look in that direction…
and that direction…
and that direction…
None lead to correction of missteps that bid me view myself as misfit…
for so long…
compounded by how long I held on…
Love strived valiantly but in the end fear won.
Well that was almost the end.
Fear had its parade and such.
While love laid hemmed up…
strapped like suspenders to a body of dirt
and a body of work secured in knapsack.
I trusted in a lie but tied a hump to my back
for the house was never locked due to lost and never recovered keys.
So I was in the club looking like a camel even after my release.
Habits are insidious…
Protective measures reveal the weakness.
Aggressive levers are pulled by the weakest…
for every blessed thing…
All they wage is war…
on everyone… for even their smile is often deception…
a momentary lull in the onslaught upon wills
to attain their own ends.
Three fingers point back at point blank.
It wasn’t all bad. It couldn’t have been.
Foresight is more sight.
Hind sight is blind sight to a degree…
for one looks through conclusion clouded memory.
We often see what we want to see even when it’s not what we want to see.
I know my love is real.
I know I gave of myself.
In the end all is well.
I refuse to vow never to do it again.
Wholehearted love is not a scar when the pains pass.
It is a superpower tempered in the fires of doubt and deception
That emerges even more brilliant than before.
This isn’t from cultivation.
This is how I am wired.
Acknowledging this… I am no longer tired.
Love do your best and your worst… Just don’t ever retire.