gotta find that damn song.
2009/11/23  12:40:40 PM

a hint at something new,
comes right into my view.
Absorbed entirely,
not all too blissfully.

Since that is where it ends,
and now my mind, it bends.
this newness upon which,
creates a mental twitch,

The hunt is now a foot,
and i've no hounds to boot.
this search, although solo,
will feed my stereo.

a year may have gone by,
with no result in queue,
online, the answers lie,
I know this much be true.

-Blademonkey

We can't control everything.
2009/08/19  6:08:53 PM

I swim through the sea of people,
neither meek of manner, nor feeble.
I watch the faces that sail by,
from a different place, not so high.

Not enough time to be alone,
thoughtless concentration to hone.
Where is the lighthouse for the ships,
for the mind that wanders and slips?

What are we if not part of the fleet,
Just weights to a bottomless pit?
Sometimes it hits you a bit deep,
that not everything has to fit.

destination unknown, we sail,
lofty goals alone can't entail,
the manner of which way goes the gale,
forever blowing without fail.

-Blademonkey

We can't control everything.
2009/08/19  6:08:21 PM

I swim through the sea of people, neither meek of manner, nor feeble. I watch the faces that sail by, from a different place, not so high. Not enough time to be alone, thoughtless concentration to hone. Where is the lighthouse for the ships, for the mind that wanders and slips? What are we if not part of the fleet, Just weights to a bottomless pit? Sometimes it hits you a bit deep, that not everything has to fit. destination unknown, we sail, lofty goals alone can't entail, the manner of which way goes the gale, forever blowing without fail.

-Blademonkey

the Train
2009/06/30  2:07:11 PM

There's no consolation for missing the train.

The train howls every time it goes somewhere. We can all hear it, yet not many have seen it, let alone have boarded it. Some of us have been waiting for it for some time, and some have even tried to chase it.

Elusive transport of the mind, the mechanical cerebral switch that tells us we have arrived. Where does one find such a button, flag, train? How does one board (one foot at a time)?

Are we so alone that we do not see the others waiting next to us? are we so fearful that we think associating with more of the same will leave less bounty to be had? What is the point of this vertical real estate if we do not have others to share with?

It seems that we're all waiting for the same train to arrive, but no one knows which station. Still we hope that it finds us. Still we dream that we picked the right one and that somehow in some lottery of life we managed to be at the right place at the right time.

It's a lottery if you dont know how it works.

-Blademonkey

the song
2009/05/21  4:06:26 AM

sometimes its worth looking through, sometimes it's worth looking at.

I wrote the song to make her dance,
a wishful tune that never ends.
I wrote the notes to make amends,
to take back all of what offends.

I watched in awe at her asleep,
into a world of something deep.
The thought of which i had to keep,
as my hands mimicked her in leap.

I sat and thought "what would happen,
if the flower found its garden?"
The fierce gardener's eye in loom,
Waiting again to see that bloom.

Yet again i saw it dimming,
antonym of my own wishing,
I knew the work had been in vain,
since I had caused her too much pain.

I knew the day would be around,
when someone else would have her found.
The hopes of which i carry with,
that happiness is not a myth.

The song is her and she is it,
such a morose and gentle fit.
the tune is me and i admit,
it is a repetitious bit.

but i alone can have this dream,
that in some way it would not seem,
to linger on the conscious mind,
of that flower i know i find.

a gentle nudge in that direction,
was key to my own perception.
it seems that now it is in time,
that no more words could hold in rhyme.

no matter who the gardener,
the piece is a mere reminder,
A dance in that fictitious room,
where once I made a flower bloom.

Farewell.

-Blademonkey