Each Day A Life

Each Day A Life

I count each day a little life,
With birth and death complete;
I cloister it from care and strife
And keep it sane and sweet.

With eager eyes I greet the morn,
Exultant as a boy,
Knowing that I am newly born
To wonder and to joy.

And when the sunset splendours wane
And ripe for rest am I,
Knowing that I will live again,
Exultantly I die.

O that all Life were but a Day
Sunny and sweet and sane!
And that at Even I might say:
"I sleep to wake again."


--- Robert Service

Death Becomes

OK so i know its rough. But WTF.

Death becomes us,
We who woe,
With swollen eye and bile puss,
This is what we show.
To feelings that are ploy,
And yet we look so fair.
I am not your toy,
But you don’t care.

In dark thoughts,
And painful memory,
We the putts,
Your emotional infirmary.
Are in last place,
For your devotion,
So one thing to chase,
Is this Romeo emotion.

We ask not for pity,
Nor your spiritual huff,
Though you are witty,
And have the right stuff,
We are the ones you hold,
When you must cry,
But all we get is the cold,
The cold of you mockful sigh.

In love and hell,
The two the same,
One thing I can tell,
That both you can not tame.
So we bitter few,
Who are tear torn,
Will call on you,
But will get only your scorn.

Ramble

Ok. So I need top figure out what would make me happy living here. Friends yes that would help. My own room, and not just a unfinished basement. Definitly. Someone who I can love, and ACTUALY be loved back by. Someone who will not out of no where say "hey. I need a brake". Absolutly. So aguess I know what I need to be happy here. I just have to figure out a way to get them. OK room I can't do anything about other then help out more and wait. Cause we need to finish a barn and another room BEFORE mine. The girl to love? I know, I know, just wait. I'm young and so forth and such. But the friends? How do I get more friends I can hang out with. I don't live in town. I HATE dance clubs. And unless I am in the right place, I can't just go out and meet people. So what? Do I just kinda go on with it. The people I work with are ok and all, but they don't really strike me as people I could get along with outside of work. I'm not looking for an answer I just needed to write it all down.

Searching.

Recently I have thought of some very disturbing things. Things I very well might put into action. I was thinking that if I still feel the way I do right now by next spring, that I am going to take some warm cloths, a knife, flint and steel, and a book of Robert Frost or Service poetry and start walking. Just walk. With no direction or idea of when I am going to come home. Sleep in ditches and barns and ask for food and toiletries from people I come across. Just walk. Maybe then I could find whatever it is I am looking for. Maybe.

To those who never get hurt

To those who never get hurt

In this bitter run we call life,
This is dedicated to all those with pride,
Who's path is filled with bitterness and strife,
But from witch they do not hide.
To those with hope,
Who always have something bright to say,
Who when we fall, we use as a rope,
And who's loving hugs keep the darkness at bay.

This is for all those who are gentle,
Who would rather be hurt then hurt.
Who's never judgementle,
Who would give you everything, even they're very shirt.
This is for those who know how to feel.
Who can loose themselves in love

To fade from this place

To fade away from this place,
To exist in a world of dreams.
To forget the confinements of space,
And to float away on moon beam.

To die without death,
To float without memory,
And let the spectacle take away your breath,
Without the visit to the infirmary.

To ride into the sunset,
With the warmth of the day,
And carry a passion that just won't let,
You in the same place to stay.

To fly with the birds,
Amongst a flock of geese,
And watch the roaming herds,
Underneath the high shy breeze.

To swim with the whales,
At a graceful pace,
And listen to the tales,
Of the brine, as it washes across your face.

To run with a equestrian herd,
To feel that free,
Without the solitude of the bird,
But to go with family as far as the eye can see.

To fade away from this place,
To exist in a world of dreams.
To forget the confinements of space,
To live a different life, or so it would seem.

One Hour To Madness And Joy

One Hour To Madness And Joy



ONE hour to madness and joy!
O furious! O confine me not!
(What is this that frees me so in storms?
What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)

O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man!
O savage and tender achings!
(I bequeath them to you, my children,
I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

O to be yielded to you, whoever you are, and you to be yielded to me,
in defiance of the world!
O to return to Paradise! O bashful and feminine! 10
O to draw you to me--to plant on you for the first time the lips of a
determin'd man!

O the puzzle--the thrice-tied knot--the deep and dark pool! O all
untied and illumin'd!
O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
O to be absolv'd from previous ties and conventions--I from mine, and
you from yours!
O to find a new unthought-of nonchalance with the best of nature!
O to have the gag remov'd from one's mouth!
O to have the feeling, to-day or any day, I am sufficient as I am!

O something unprov'd! something in a trance!
O madness amorous! O trembling!
O to escape utterly from others' anchors and holds! 20
To drive free! to love free! to dash reckless and dangerous!
To court destruction with taunts--with invitations!
To ascend--to leap to the heavens of the love indicated to me!
To rise thither with my inebriate Soul!
To be lost, if it must be so!
To feed the remainder of life with one hour of fulness and freedom!
With one brief hour of madness and joy.

Walt Whitman