Break Dreams, poems
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BREAK DREAMS, poems
***
POCKET
did you enjoy this journey?
did it bring you everything you wanted?
everything you were dreaming for?
did it bring you a killer smile
and that sense of awe
that only a good soul can pocket?
did the road bring you happiness?
or did you bring happiness to the road?
DAWN
it is dawn upon your soul
not a new thought, but an old one
coming back again
SUMMER
The physical world is often the doorway through which we find the spiritual.
I stare into my cup of tea.
The steam drifts slowly upward, at pace with the falling snow.
I take a sip and taste the warmth.
The heat brings back the memory of summer, passionate and vivid.
I remember nights of a thousand smiles.
In the cold of winter, I recall the spirit of a warmer past.
Summer, in a sip of tea.
A SEPARATE PLACE
my friend flashes me a smile, white as the snow.
time stops. that moment will live forever.
the snow flows around me, a cold embrace.
happiness is there. it will never die.
being there, in that moment. the distance was never smaller.
even if that place should change, that moment will remain.
but we had to go.
there were lives left to live, dragons to slay
and that mountain was a separate place.
COLOR
color me
three shades of blue
one for sky, one for sea
and one for sadness too
OFT REMEMBERED
So much light
in that moment
so much fire
in those hearts
many years ago
that brilliant orange sky
ignited an afterglow
in the souls of us.
from time to time
i still feel its embers
REFLECT
a man takes a look at the best years of his life
the path that sets before him
and the footsteps behind
so little, so little of it in all
and where, o where, to step forward?
to stay where he belongs?
or go back, and catch that old life again
the best years, behind? in front?
consolidate today’s gain, or risk this life for a better one
a steady pace, or a frantic race
the distance in between this life and the dream
is
you.
***
LINE
there was drawn a line, and you saw it
the line that divides the free soul from the wolves
the bold from the broken
the waking voice from the quiet ones
the discomfort of sacrifice
you can ride out your line, on the fringe
or drive down the center, and cut deep
and leave a mark, smooth or rough
and seeing your spot in the world
what path do you trod?
what line is yours?
destiny determines your era
but choice determines your line
***
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