Kismet.

(Click to hear this poem spoken by the author on SoundCloud)

This is my first recorded Spoken Word poem! If you're interested, please click on the text above to listen and follow along to the words if you'd like! 
If you'd prefer not to, you can just read it here:

While innocence and naivete swirled throughout the webbings of my veins, I lived
My home was a structure so delicately built on a cloud that floated at nine
Soul was strewn into the cracks in the woodwork and passion laced the floorboards
Mother Nature would intertwine her fingers with the sky and warm the atmosphere with love
On the walls I would write my deepest thoughts of pain, pleasure and hope
I would inscribe the stories of my past, my dreams, my everything; my walls kept me safe
Sweet serenity would drift in under the crevice that graced the doorway to bless me with the security of the mind
Floating above the masses it never rained where I was; always sheltered from darkness and the depths

As I aged though, my legs were stretched and my arms were pulled
Like taffy, I was pliant and consumed by a force of which I could not control
Weighed down by changes of new, I grew too heavy for my home to support
From the sky I plummeted, tumbled, toppled and to the ground I collapsed
From this new view I could see my haven, my heaven, my oasis; but it was much too far to reach

I must go on living in this new world alone
Always on my tail my shadow creeps along
Until I find I need its company and then it's gone
So bitter are the days when I feel alone
Surrounded by faces but no one's home

For comfort I glance above to see the place I once called my own
Inhabited by a being of unrecognizable stature; I cower in fear and terror from the site of my home
My walls have been disrupted by strangers unknown
The marvels I once scrawled upon their perimeter have sunk within the grain and have been buried by the works of a new hand
All that once was mine; all that shielded me from the cold whisperings of the wind has now been transformed
I must now transfix my gaze forward; to look again would be too much of a shock

Each step I take will be a mission; a journey that will lead me to my new life where I will build new walls and write new words
Each breath I breathe will fill me with the new drive I shall need to strive on; and strive on I shall
Off to this new world will I go, soft and slow, steady and careful and wonderfully aglow

One Step Forward.

Once, I turned a corner and I grew a few inches

I looked up and the sky seemed closer,

Looked down and the floor seemed further

My eyes soon opened and my heart soon stretched

I learned to trust and to mistrust

I learned to seek and to hide

I learned to cry without tears

I learned to love without reason

Time was carried on the wind that passed me by every day

It would slam into me, caress me, toss me and soothe me

It would steal my feet from beneath me and guide me through

Now here I am.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Once, I entered a room with no door and no walls

I placed my foot upon a floor that did not exist

The light shining behind me was everything I had ever needed

It helped me to adjust to what I strained to see in the dark ahead

I was blind, but I knew I had to take that step

Am I falling?

Am I stable?

Am I alone?

Once, I clung to a hand that I could not cling to forever

I knew that someday she may need it to hold herself up

I knew that someday I would need mine to support myself

I can still feel it there. I always will.

I know it'll always be there when I need it.

I'll need it.

Now here I am.

Where am I?

How did I get here?

Am I falling?

Am I stable?

Am I alone?

I turned that corner.

I took that step.

And I had to let go. 

For now.

And now here I am.

Life in a Page.

a perpetual glow is shed upon an hourglass in which a new presence is brought to life
the sand falls slowly as it begins its long, unpredictable journey from beginning to end

the world carries a blinding light that such young eyes have not yet seen
a cry brings ear-shattering relief to those who are surrounding, but soon the sound is hushed as tender lips sweetly suckle the bosom that magically provides life to life
knowledge is gained through feeling as lungs fill with air and mouth fills with taste; as soft fingers stroke each and every thing in sight and little ears react so delicately to sound

soon, limbs are stretched and personality is challenged and molded
time passes and scars blemish a flawless complexion and a pure soul
conformity and societal expectations test individuality and strength
rules and lectures are forced down the throat and judgments are passed
respect grows for those who deserve it and love is an understood truth
tall legs carry a confident figure blessed with health, talent and hope

a shimmering presence gleams in the eye of one so fortunate and draws many into its grasp
time stops and the sand halts in its fall through the glass as a precious treasure is spotted
there is a pounding in the chest and a constriction in the throat while stomachs whirl and palms sweat
a moment so bittersweet and memorable; irresistible, yet sickening
mutual feelings are accomplished and life seems imaginary and unbelievable
organized reasoning tumbles and is lost as all the brain's entirety is engulfed by distracted thoughts
moments alone are eternities spent in a prison of loneliness and longing
elation is intoxicating as time passes with fingers perfectly interlocked and souls intertwined

later, natural change stains the sense of self and causes relationships to balance over a pit of fire
conflict arises more commonly and the intricate strings of the heart are splintered and torn
the sand falls as rapidly as ever and each day attempts to be savoured as if it were the last
sore bones battle with gravity as old ears strain to listen to those who still bother to speak
wisdom creates vast valleys that frame the features, and hardships sag firm skin
tired eyes search endlessly for the glow, but the time has issued the light to fade
life was given, taken, and sucked dry of all that it could ever be; there is no reason for disappointment as the inevitable approaches its awaited day
no matter how long life may be spent in the light, it cannot be daytime forever- the night must one day come

so it begins. so it ends. so it begins again.

To a Friend.

Awkward moments in hallways

Uncomfortable displays of affection

Hour-long phone conversations and page-long yearbook signings

Trust and mistrust

Jealousy and admiration

First experiences and light hearts

All those times

There were so many years

Childhood, jealousy, laughter, despair

Throwing flowers in fields and racing through waters

No reason to pretend as if I don't still care

So much conflict

So many disagreements

So many reasons it shouldn't go on

But you're still caged in my heart like a bird with no wings

Time is no matter, for you'll never be gone

Our futures await

Separate paths lie ahead

Sometimes look back on what's left behind

No shame, but glad we've moved on

No matter what, you'll always be in my mind

Thanks for the times

Thanks for the memories

Thanks for the love and thanks for the support

Thanks for being my best friend

And thanks for knowing how to always be there

Thanks for being you

Thanks for letting me be me

Thanks for the honesty

Thanks for the friendship

Thanks for proving that life goes on

A Tiny Little Philisophical Detour off of the Gigantic Highway of Existence.

Warning: This piece of writing is mainly just for myself.. Most people may find it boring and lengthy, but I had a blast siphoning it out of my brain.

I read a document very recently that spoke about how marketers and salespeople manage to plant ideas into the heads of others. The article didn't teach you how to perform these tactics- they taught you how to detect and protect yourself from them. I found it quite frightening to imagine that people are trained and able to literally implant a thought into your mind. Most of the time when this happens, you are completely unaware and unable to even realize what's actually happening. If this is possible, is it possible that all of our ideas have somehow been instilled into our brains without our conscious self being aware of it? I think it's entirely possible.

We're raised with do's and don'ts. We are constantly being smothered by societal norms, social and economic limitations, the law, public and private systems, our peers, our friends and our families. All of these have an immense impact on the way we live our lives and the way we view ourselves and the rest of the world. As we grow up, we are surrounded by these structures; these thoughts possessed by others, and all of them shape who we will become. Is this a terrifying thing? Is it petrifying to us that everything we have ever thought of has been fabricated and extracted (not always replicated) from the minds of others? Yes, we can exaggerate and build on things that we've heard, but I'm starting to think that it is unquestionably impossible for the human mind to ever come up with a thought or idea that has not initially been thought of before. We are inspired by what our senses pick up- what we see, feel, hear, smell and touch. Everything around us has been imagined or experienced before by another being. To answer the question; I'm not so sure it is so terrifying. I think it's actually quite beautiful. To think that the entire human race has been built upon the thoughts and imaginations of others.. to think that every person alive is somehow connected to one another is a spectacular contemplation.

Realizing that you're completely unoriginal and nothing anyone hasn't seen before is a thought that makes a lot of us uncomfortable and we end up denying the possibility of the fact. As humans, we like to think that we're all incredibly special and different in our own way; and that is true to a point. To ourselves and most likely to the people who surround us in our daily lives, we can be thought of as something exceptional (in either a positive or negative way). The truth is, existentialism is correct when it states that in the massive, grand scheme of things, we are completely and totally insignificant. The Queen of England, Bono, Lance Armstrong, Chuck Norris, Johnny Depp.. they're all just unimportant, non-universe-altering beings. Every single one of us is like this. Yes, kids.. even Justin Bieber doesn't matter when it comes to the universe's harsh reality (and many other things). This dark, depressing philosophy is one I believe to be completely true and correct. We are all just simple little specs within the entirety of the known universe. The thing is- who the bejezus should actually give a flying whobird? Why should we care to be known universally? As much as I agree with the philosophy, I think it focuses a lot on things that do not matter. Yeah, it'd be nice to think that my existence is significant in the grand scheme of things, but the fact is that it isn't and I can't change that. Oh well, boo-hoo. Shouldn't we as individuals be striving to live a life that is significant to the people we care about? Doesn't it mean more to make a smaller, deeper impact on those whom we actually give a crap about, rather than making a large, w i d e – s p r e a d and shallow impact on those whom we don't even know? Honestly, I think it's just plain stupid to be genuinely upset by the fact that the whole world will never know you or how amazing you are. I think it's way more important for us to be striking and memorable to those of whom we treasure. I don't care if “Vlad” from Russia living days away from me knows who I am. I care that my grandchildren and great-grandchildren will someday know my name and acknowledge the fact that I once existed and thought that the possibility of them being alive was pretty rad. I care that my mum knows I love her more than anyone and that my brothers know that they're the most remarkable men I'll ever know. I do not care about being considered some kind of magic, special and “universally significant” being. I just want to be loved and respected by the people I love and respect, and I want to live a life worth being proud of.

This is the Universe. Our Galaxy is in there somewhere. And somewhere in our Galaxy there is our Solar System and somewhere in our Solar System there is Earth. On Earth there are continents and then countries.. then you're there somewhere, but at that point, who really cares to dig that deep?
But really.. why would it ever matter that anyone would want to or not?

That's my credo. Congrats if you made it this far.

...

P.S. - I understand that you may have heard rants similar to this one before, but that just supports the fact that we can't concoct anything completely original. Why does that prove it? Well, because as I wrote this, I believed everything was coming from my own special little mind.

Our Land.

I live in a place where reality lies and happiness seems to just be a guise

Where ignorance, cowardice and fear are our norms that shall lead to our demise

Greed and capitalization, what a cruel combination

It's what's swallowing our world and holding us an abomination

Forever shall we be an uncertainty; never sure of who we are or what we ought to be

So many choose to be blind when it can be so easy to see; this is our reality

Existence.

the sky once swirled to the ground and the wind used the earth to build a figure
the shape grew from an insignificant dream to an unbelievable and magnificent being
the sun shone its rays to fill the form with light and goodness
the ocean roared and engulfed the miracle with life and everlasting nutrition
the plants that grew from the dirt sprinkled seeds of love so the new life could be a sharer of glory
the rain poured creativity and imagination into the being whilst snowflakes shared their originality and beauty
stones from deep within the core of the planet rose from their burial places to shelter the magical creature from harm and create a shell that would protect it always
finally, the colours of the world all combined to paint the figure into an exquisite masterpiece

; the fabrication of humans.

it is only when the sky turns grey and the lightning strikes that the figure shall be blackened
when the ever-growing dreams become greedy and the being is weakened
when the sun is hidden behind dark clouds and shadows reign over what once was radiant
when the ocean no longer chooses to keep feeding needs that are transient and empty
the seeds that once grew into love turn to lust and lies and dim what once was so divine
the rain evaporates and the snowflakes melt when originality lacks and conformity rules
the stones become battered and crumble to a dust that no longer wishes to be a part of what once was
the colours of life that blessed the being with brilliance turn bleak and trickle down back into the earth

; the realities that challenge humanity.

There's Nothing There.

you poke, you prod and you stab
you try to cut through the skin and through the cage that holds my heart
and back in the day, it would've worked;
i would've been cold on the floor
but today your pathetic knives just bounce off my shields
you mean nothing anymore
you can't harm me- you can't hurt me anymore
but thanks for trying.

The Light.

here's something that i never do!
it's not dark and dreary! :)

there are times when i feel like the plague has taken my soul captive
but in a world that i have created in my mind i am free and healthy
the sun shines bright and we can travel on its rays without worrying about getting burned
we can hop from cloud to cloud and soar of the gusts of wind that lift us off our feet and carry us away
we never have to worry about starving or being thirsty, for the ocean is our friend and provider

take a step toward me, please
oh, you're always so far away
i stretch and i reach, but even at their limit, my limbs cannot extend far enough to reach you
if only i could come in contact
if only i could intertwine my desperate fingers with yours
how they would fit just right

shake me and the dirt and ash shall fall from my skin and come to rest on a ground more welcoming than i
my sins shall fly away and bury themselves in the ground and never rise again
i shall emerge a new soul and shed pleasant tears of glimmering crystals that will plant seeds and grow trees of light that will shimmer for you when your days seem dark

you are the greatest thing i've ever known
your passion, care and love has been shown
and within your light i see myself
and i feel as if the world is right

with eyes like gems that sparkle and gleam, overlaying a heart that shines with dreams
you cannot hear it, but the angels sing for you, for everything you say is none but true
thank you for living and thanks for being alive, because with you around my soul is revived.

Someone Like You. (Adele Cover!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-Yd5xbRZOQ&feature=youtu.be

There's Always a Story.

next time you're in another one of those populated areas, take a look around you.
every single person.
every being that lives and breathes the air you share has a story.
a story you shall probably never get the chance to or care to hear.
seven billion lives surround us; all with a story.

this absolutely blows my mind.

Real vs. Fake.

there's the girl with the golden curls locked together with a tight-laced ribbon, sittin' pretty for all the young boys to see.
in the wind she's a stunner with her eyes to the sky, soaking in the sun's rays that compliment her physical structure and accent her curves with perfectly-placed shadows.
like an angel the world surrounds her and her beauty like a magic that captures every soul surrounding.
her lips a cherry red- not too bright, not too light and her nose like the flawless slope we like to ski.
her fingers so delicate, so beautiful, so soft and her legs endless pathways to the stars.

there's the girl who owns the most impeccable machine, her body running off the fuel of the love that is given to her each day.
a sphere of energy surrounds her glowing shape and travels with her each thoughtful step she takes.
a heart of gold placed properly in a cage of shining crystal that lies within her chest is what leads her to the decisions she makes.
she is lovely- inside and out, because she is real.


then there's the girl who hides under the skin of another that she found in a magazine.
afraid to show real beauty, she cowers under the tight strips of cotton she calls clothing.
who would know if she were lovely? who would be able to tell? with the image she creates, originality is lost, dragging beauty along into the abyss.
to touch her is to bring danger upon her life- a threat to crack the shell she's placed so carefully around her being.

then there's the girl who must fight each day to defend the character she's stolen from the media and called her own.
by selling herself as so many do, she must lift her chin each day to those who see through her translucent shield.
what elegance may lie inside is hidden by a screen of hateful words and a face that smiles to please, not because it is happy.
outside she is a satisfying sight for those who do not care to read the story behind the cover of the book.
she is picturesque- outside, not in, because she gives just the illusion of reality.


whom shall you chose to be? whom shall you chose to love?

Weakness vs. Strength.

life is spinning and twisted.
crying, lying, yelling through dawn to dusk and every other hour.
your soul is strangled by the rope that tightens with every disagreement and every glare.
the helmet you wear during this war leaves your heart exposed to the dangers of flying shrapnel.
it's not your battle to fight; you're planted by the sidelines, dodging the passing bullets.

you're howling at the blue moon while flapping your arms to the beat of the silence.
your mind is scrambled and wandering along roads many never dare to wander.
you baked some, ate some, sold some and ate some more.
now you're washing it down with some liquid relief.
every night you repeat the process and beat your body down.
your internal machine is crying for a break, but its cries are silenced by the flood.

there is no way out- only a way to veil reality.
this "treatment" weaves a mask of smoke that covers the truth in your eyes.
no one can know of the war. no one can see the scars this way.
desperate words drag themselves out of your voice box and attempt to be heard, but are washed back down with each swallow of poison you push down your gullet.
the suffering you feel inside is undetectable to the naked eye.
fate's cruelty will end one day if you let the day come, but your belief is fading.

the persistence of your nightly pattern shall be the end of you.
if only you would have set your words free instead of choosing weakness.
you've crumbled under life's pressure and here you lie:
the rope tightened until your soul burst.
your heart victim to the bullets that dented it past the point of recognition.
your mind spun circles until dizziness knocked it out of place.
your machine broke down by the erosion the flood caused.

at least it doesn't hurt anymore.