Willow Fields

Bury me
In the field of willows
So I can release my energy
Into the trees

Bury me
Among the willow trees
So when it rains
The skys
And the leaves
They weep for me

Bury me
In the willows meadow
Where the roots below
Like to meet and greet each other

Bury me
In a field of dreams
Because they never die
As long as someone believes
Then I stay alive

To Heaven

It’s only with closed eyes
that I realized
the skies were smiling at me…

I was told from a young age
that heaven does indeed exist
I studied the concept when I grew older
and at first dismissed it
Wisdom comes with age
With every turn of time’s page
we creep closer to the moment
where we meld minds
with the words of a sage
I found it often
in bits and pieces
Almost as if it had been destroyed
and scattered across many moments in my lifetime
Now as I follow my lifeline
I study what occurred in my timeline
I’ve been putting these pieces together
and I understood it to an extent

Dear me
Imagine my surprise
when I shifted
Using a different set of eyes I realized
it was a cubism creation
The precision was immaculate
I get to watch these worlds unfold
What I see
depends on the lens I use
Ever since then
I’ve been crafting them
Each one assigned to a lifeline
A thousand eyes
A thousand lifetimes

Literal Love

L-O-V-E

This small alliance of letters
which tongues often dance around
sometimes pressed to cheek
Neglecting the profound meaning
when the lips are pressed to speak
It’s invaluable wildness
highly treasured by the meek

The bond of a glued universe
otherwise formed by fragmented fates
Still a viscous liquid dripping
filling an Ethereal pool
flowing through outlets
to and through the Pierian Spring
A wishing well of wisdom
The bold may imbibe
not only knowledge
but compassion and understanding

The muse for many artists
adventurers, conquerors
et cetera, et cetera
It’s a splendid sentiment
with exciting endeavors but
There’s so much more to the meaning

Maybe only a fool would believe
that a rose could ever love
but a wide-open mind can see
that there is love in the rose
The reason this bush grows and spreads seeds
because one day it will die
Maybe more than a fool would agree
that life goes on through love

Nature can produce some savage scenes
merciless hunters with bone crunching jaws
Creatures from nightmares
and some from sweet dreams
but one thing unites them all
They’re there because someone or something had cared
for what their life may mean

It’s a wonder
who could ever think
the circle of life
could turn without love
to spur its twirl

It never was a word
before the linguistic sorcerers
They came along to write the lexicons
and became mages
imbued spells in the Book of Ages pages

If love is a soul
they must’ve been enraptured
for they captured and place it in
a quasi-corporeal body
Limbs borrowed from an alphabet

It was people who crafted this magic
and it’s people who practice this magic
People Live
People Die
People Hate
People Cry
People do so many things with Love
As in these were made with love
People do so many things with Love
As in change it a little bit to fit a desire
So many songs
So many stories
So many events that have transpired
So many works of art it’s been a part of
It might’ve been love
that made Mona Lisa smile

Romeo and Juliet
Dead and decayed
Yet it’s amazing how long
their story has carried on beyond them

Such a melodious decree
Not conjured by the birds and bees
but written by the Bees and Gees
A curious inquisition
How deep is this which sets people free
from a world of fools that keep them down
When they all should just let them be

It’s a beautiful thing
in what at times can be an ugly reality
When mouths and bellies must go hungry
At least today it won’t be the young ones
An older soul may starve just a little longer
so some newer lives may grow

Indifferences in life entails
many more morbid tales
where all sorts of sacrifices are made
for the sake of a loved one
Tales that would never exist
If maybe there were more people willing to be
the one that loves

This single syllable incantation
has been said so many times
It’s been diminished
to a mere chant of infatuation
made to catalyze stimulation
or used as a tool for manipulation

Sometimes
Being in a quasi-corporeal body
means that it’s trapped in a tactile existence
where too many are afraid to feel
It remains untouched
overlooked far too often
as it gets lost in parts the world

Love is chasing the pipe dream
to achieve it by any means
Only to have the Ignis Fatuus
shed a light on a love
of the truest nature
Residing in the waking moments of reality
Fruition formed by fragmented fates
fused together by a universal glue

In this Macrocosm
In this Microcosm
This world
These Ecosystems
These incarnations of life
where this viscous liquid
has been flowing from an ethereal pool
to grow in these creatures
These smithereens of dreams
bonded together
Living
Dying
Surviving
Thriving
Alive

One would have to wonder
What else would allow life to linger
in an otherwise
cold and unfeeling vacuum
that exists beyond the sky

 

Naked Truth

It’s hard to see a naked soul
They’re invisible to the naked eye
The truth lies naked and is so old
Lays bare compared to the lie
But of course they’re there
Actually, they’re everywhere

They’re always seen in clothes
In a wide variety of styles
Wool, fur and skin covered souls
Hugs it as it runs wild
Unfortunately when they’re forced to strip
People often see no more of it

This is when the lie is told
Buried bodies are dead and gone
With no mention of their soul
Where it’s been told that they live on
For some it may be beyond believing
Some essence of them is breathing

All that is has an ebb and flow
All that is has an energy
All that is may come and go
All that is can be heavenly
A soul stripped, made naked and bare
A soul stripped, can roam anywhere

A soul can roam in many minds
A soul can roam in many hearts
A soul can roam in many times
A soul can roam in many arts
A soul can roam and never cease
A soul can roam and be at peace

Some swear it’s all connected
If it exists than it’s intertwined
A thought which stands to be respected
Like the correlations in the mind
Everything inherently related in a way
Like the eternal relation of night and day

The forsaken clothes may lay here
The flesh, the skin and bone
The soul may even stay near
Those still dressed won’t feel alone
The life is only the body dies
The truth is only the body lies

My Nature

This is my nature
This is my heartbeat you see
This is what is me

Imagine a tree
The way its roots always reach
Deep down underground

Call it Down to Earth
Call it a firm foundation
Call it survival

Call my memories
Reaching into yesterday
Where they were once seeds

The root of my being
My nature and my nurture
From which I may grow

My self-discipline
Green and pliant in my youth
Now yields to no force
Unfortunately
Altercations may break me
If they have such strength

Yet I still grow tall
Memories of my childhood
At my fingertips

To the sky they reach
Far from what they had once been
Though forever linked

Such intrepid will
Always reaching for that star
Life sustaining goal

From dirt to gold glow
Extremes of the young and old
Oh, how we all grow

To love is to grow
Even if it is apart
When we grow the most
To love is to grow
I hope that this apple will
Never fall too close

This is what is me
This is my heartbeat you see
This is my nature

Like Gold

It paints everything gold
As a Midas memory would
Or like an old soul
leaking from a bleeding heart
Such a morbid taste makes this flavor
Bittersweet
Such a sensation inspires me
to keep this longer
To grow this feel
To make it stronger
I know, dear World
Your are not yet ready for my light
But I still love you
Despite your dark corners
If it were to dim and die out
You would cry for me
My only wish would be
That you stay rightfully alive
So that this light I held inside
Blazes in a way that flames could thrive

Midas touch my heart of gold
As it bleeds the essence of an old soul
Golden glow newly born and rising
I love to watch you grow

Midas touch my heart of gold
The day has grown so old
Dozing off and slowly setting
Painted by an old soul blood shedding

 

Original Reddit Post

Prelude to a Timeless Love

A casual discussion between two immortals
From their words we can infer one is relatively young….

“Immortality, is it lonely?”

“Very”

“Ever met a time traveler?”

“One. We crossed paths every hundred years or so”

“No longer?”

“She died in my arms the first time we met. She said she wanted to see me ‘when I was young’ Ever since every visit is potentially the last”

So moved was he by the elder immortal’s memory
The young immortal decides to tells his tale
Documented as
A Timeless Love

Original Tweet by The New Fiction

It’s Yours

I’ve discovered two different ways
to write a story

Discredit your protagonist
This can hurt you
Weaken the supporting characters
This can hurt you
Give the antagonist more strength
This can hurt you
Sadden the story
This can hurt you
Don’t destroy your story
This can hurt you

There’s a better way

You can
Inspire your protagonist
You can
Grow a hero
You can
Strengthen the supporting characters
You can
Defeat the antagonist
You can
Create a better story

 

Decide
what will make
Your Mantra

On Fire

We make the design in our mind
Dreams that dare to come to fruition in time
The only difference is the details
and if they become a distraction then it’s doomed to fail

It’s true
Originally I did see something special
in the psychos and sociopaths
and the mechanics of their mentalities
and I thought of how useful it could be
if a moral mind could acquire those kind of qualities
Though they’re not the same they have their similarities
Their mindset is severed from the standard of normality
anything they see can be an extension of their mind
even people
and that’s part of the problem that I find
the extension ends there
their minds aren’t tethered to anywhere
severed from a sense of morality
with a warped reality
and their only sense of self is selfishness

but imagine my surprise when I realized
when you take that profound idea and turn it around

When the things we do physically are mentally driven

Our bodies are but extensions of our mind
and our emotions are the spirit’s response of how they’re aligned
making the moral compass point to the existence of us
Instead of just being set on the mindset of me
then what do you get
those that aren’t afraid of being casualties
those that are willing to sacrifice their physical being
maybe even their mentality for the sake of their spirituality
The many martyrs who made a name for themselves in history
in service to the essence of humanity

That’s where I messed up
From what I see
Whatever we decide to sacrifice
it can’t be morality
at least not for too long
It’s too easy to get lost without the compass

Especially when you’re trying to execute some sort of existential strategy
Because if you’re going to try and play god
It has to be done while knowing that nobody is above their own belief
You better be prepared to play as a pawn
of your own contemplation
especially if it involves shaking the foundation of a nation

Power comes from a need
Not a desire
Even if it means sometimes setting yourself on fire
not just physically to be a burning body
but to feel it as deeply as the burn can possible be
Deep into the essence
of spirituality
Morality
Learning to stay focused
Holding composure while it burns

Sometimes I consider myself insane
A Chaotic Kamikaze
Not because I’m crazy but for my desire to deviate from the mundane
Still
Sometimes secrets are safely secured in the stigma of insanity
The universe has so much truth
That of course it could force a few screws loose
Just ask Simon
He who knew who the true beast was
But murdered when the thirst for blood took a turn for the worse
by those in servitude to the Lord of the Flies
The gravity of reality becomes a little heavy
when reason and rationality dies

It’s hard to make things change when everything stays the same
But everything changes in the flames
You can call it chaos if you want but it creates
an amazing phase changing blaze
Which can compel a person to do what
was once perceived as impossible
Suddenly somehow it seems plausible
But when the fuel fizzles out
and the inferno seeks another source to keep going
starts running rampant
Uncontrolled
It needs to be extinguished
With the same necessity as when it was started
The true essence of strength is standing stalwart
while the surrounding settings all fall apart

There’s more to life than love
There’s more to love than life
There’s also hatred
Jealousy
Complacency
Sorrow
Fear
Frustration
Elation
agitation
It’s a complex compilation
but we can choose to have less of one
and have another in excess

Its the cause of us constantly trying to complete ourselves
Because we’re just of a single human essence
Broken up into billions of bits and pieces
Having a few things but lacking the rest
making up for what’s missing by connecting
trying to grow ourselves by investing

We make the design in our mind
Dreams that dare to come to fruition in time
The only difference is the details
and a proper plan
never fails
We only think it does because
our actions are sometimes spurred by distractions
There’s only one thing I know for sure
Keep your mind right
and your heart pure
then no matter what toxic substance manages to seep into your soul
You’ll always be able to find your cure

My Money

I hear that
Money is the root of all evil

Interesting

The only thing I know about money
is that it’s only valuable when it departs
So having a large sum of money means
A great departure
Something similar to
The improvement of spiritual well being
After an exorcism

Get more money
Spend more money
Getting more money means
Spending more money

Just to acquire more things we regard
as personal possessions
and I wonder if when we possess a thing
if it’s in the same way
that a spirit possesses a body
If it does
then that possession requires a bit of spirit
a spirit that can be spread exceedingly thin
If a person were to possess
A multitude of things

but that’s a tale to tell on another night

 

 

It doesn’t seem to make much sense then
to make money
To invite the demons
their curses and their burdens
just to see an improvement
just to see spiritual well being
improve to a point
that it would have been without such an ordeal

Or maybe
they only become demons
If we invite them
and make them stay
Longer than they should

 

Interesting

 

So what I surmise
There is something going on
That we don’t realize

This might be unrelated
it’s possible
It’s in my mind but it’s still debated

 

I feel

there is an unhealthy infatuation

with preservation

 

Using immortal tombstones and pictures
Depictions that don’t age
We hold on to our beloved cadavers
with tender love and reverence
sometimes neglecting those who are still alive
Until we can hold onto them
with tender love and reverence
of course
when they become corpses

Unless of course
We can reanimate the corpse
steal the souls of the living
Like a lover
a friend
any kind of loved one
whom we abuse
or refuse to let go of
Because they give life to some amiable memory
Or a traumatic moment not fully forgotten
Some fleeting feeling
Transformed into a spiritual succubus
That gathers life energy for its master
Leaving one to wonder why
they feel so drained

 

From my perspective
it’s not life
but preservation that we consider so precious
I say so because
Life
Moves

I’ve never seen something so well preserved
also be the same thing that seems so alive
And I don’t think I ever will
Everything I’ve seen immortalized
was either dead
or completely still

Except the one time
it was caged
I only knew it was alive
Because it would sing
I know why

Sometimes
We waste life
waiting for something
that gives us a reason
to appreciate the very thing
that we trade for it
and then wonder why
time always seems to be slipping away

Bringing us closer…

 

 

The Fear of Death
The Fear
Fear

Well hello there
Friend
Forgive my loose use of the term
I’ve met your cousin Arnold
What an interesting character he is
Although I can never find Waldo
if you’re ever in the realm of my view
I can always see you
Friend
You once designed my whole world
been in my life for so long
I wonder what else you could be

As strong as you are
I know there is a villain
much more powerful than you
Your Master
The Feeling of Inadequacy

A Debilitating Deity
Demanding immolation from its subject
The fearsome entity
Which gathers gifts from its subordinates
The fearful
Who command the spiritual succubus
to steal
to distress
to oppress
to suppress
to depress
to cause stress

and money
or whatever it is concerning it
that causes corruption
is among a myriad of methods
it can use to do so

Like how a root
is a method
for a tree to gather nutrients

 

So I guess
that these whispers
About money, roots, and evil
may be more than just hearsay

And
Those that whisper
Just might be right