The Furry Book

and what began as a moment,

a glimpse, has chilled me inside.

a tug, a growing yearn of conscience courses silently through me. the times of innocence never came to me. pushing onward, pressing further. like a comet zipping through the unknown, wondering where the next turn will come.

simply dropped here with no goal or plan. no purpose, no guide, just with my yearning. there is no greater torture than void and silence, so i speak.

I was dropped into the world like a minnow into the sea. My eyes were lost in its depth and chaos. Never so much as a hint of direction. We just swim through the current. Some of us get lost in the cold numbing darkness. Some close their eyes and the current takes them. Many will find a school to swim with, they find safety in conformity. They bury their heads in numbers. I envy them, but I cannot follow. For I know the path they follow, and I know its end is its beginning. Their circle is known to those who swam the bitter, frigid, harsh waters of truth and realization. Our eyes bear the tale of all be comings and losses, and those who know truth know the eyes well. We swim against the current and fight the obstacles. Many lose direction and float back to the sea, but if given the proper motivation and time we can and will succeed. Time passes us by like waves in a great sea of mystery, and with each wave we are moved inevitably forward. Due to our consciousness and self realization we have the ability to affect our direction in this current, for she moves outward from her initial incidence in all directions. Choose your path, ride your wave, for truth and wisdom lies in the eye of the beholder. The minnow whose eyes are like diamonds can separate chaos into reason.

Usually the stronger i feel about an opinion, the less my opinion is appreciated.

It is a terrible curse to be both creative and paranoid.

A cage is a home you can never leave.

What a cruel game she is

She spins her web to snare her children

and feeds her young with competition

Her moments pass, like atoms crash and

all her visions suicide.

She herself is ironic

Pain in moments falling back

Us her children, we her slaves.

Mother told us to be pleasant

Mother gave me all i have

Yet destiny reveals that

with all ambitions

with all deeds

It'd be her, who steals them in the end

For it was she who married Death.

art is to communicate emotional ideas that inspire understanding

to live is to define this moment

Perhaps it lasted moments,

maybe seconds,

even less.

That final moment flickered out

for you.

For me that moment lingered.

I guess it's all I had to feel,

something real,

something true.

I long every day for those moments.

Had I never seen them,

Had I never felt full and true,

Had I never seen the god in you.

I'd have nothing to long for.

Perhaps those moments were all

I'll ever know of you.

truth is what confidence cannot transcend.

people who have a thirst for knowledge, swallow it with appreciation and pride. However the after taste of tragedy and pain challenges the lush.

to avoid the boy who's lost at sea

devoid of bones to stand upon

destroyed the bridges leading away.

The band of lies defaced the balms

to cure the boy. Those balms decay

at twice the speed when soles of feet

and backs of all types face the boy,

the boy they all have led astray.

Heaving waves of solemn days

collect at all perspectives.

North, to face what's not to come.

South, to recall why he's here.

East, to wonder if he ever was.

West, to question his own worth.

For after all, the boy devoid

is free instead to lead.

Devoid of all integrity,

gives bones to those who need.

The boy cares not of backs or soles,

the shackles broke when he did.

He throws the compass overboard,

the band of lies defeated.

And though the boy still wasn't complete,

And though the sun still sets over a sea,

Even though the balms and backs and soles

of those were still turned and twisted.

He gripped on tightly to the day,

that his shackles lifted.

and now I step into the fire

to heal my wounds,

the burns to come,

I choose, I choose.

for most of my life, the tears...

kept me cold in their lies for all those years.

I've already died more than once inside.

Let my life be in fire, rather than lies.

I'm ready for scars

Scars I can wear

My deaths before

I hold close and dear.

My new life as a child in the fire.

Invite discomfort with open hands

the stale air of pleasure grows old.

without some aches and moans and groans

you never rise and never grow

A flower seems so innocent

it's beauty undefined.

to fools whose joy is blinding them

from the dirt it's pushed aside.

and fires hues

dazzle eyes consumed

and all seems true and right and good

when blind you choose

it's growth you lose.

stripped the bark to burn the wood.

Invite discomfort with open hands

the stale air of pleasure grows old.

without some aches and moans and groans

you never rise and never grow

success is defined internally

during disruptive change, direction is determined by attitude and perseverance.

envision success regardless of opposition

the only thing I own are my dreams,

everything else is temporary

knowing is easy, believing is difficult.

idiots have it the other way around.

envision your dream

build a path

take a few steps every day

and the pain of life will go away

I don't believe in destiny,

but a directional tendency for

vision and effort to end in

success.

Just one pure thing,

that's all I dream,

Flawless ageless raw.

No compromise,

No second tries,

One golden perfect something dear.

A poem, a song, a word, a bond,

A life, a vision, a goal, a mission,

A gift, a light, a truth, a right.

Anything true and pure will do.

Just one pure thing to cling to.

Extremities press upon the eyes of perception, pushing the boundaries of beauty and god further into definition. These defined views arouse excitement, fear stimulation and all other human modes capable of internal change, and independent decision making.

A life without any extremes is like painting with one tube of gray paint, but one who has suffered and risen knows how to use his blood as a tool.

Extreme circumstances leave obvious conclusions.

The problem I have with destiny is that it involves everyone else.

An unchanging life is death.

Lonesome fish where do you swim?

Your tank is smaller than you think.

Lonesome fish, why do you cry?

Water, tears all eyes deny.

Beneath those scales a heart still beats.

Beside you is your evil twin.

Behind you are your past defeats,

So drink the tears you're swimming in.

Heaven is an understanding ear to talk to.

Hell is having no voice to speak your mind.

Pain is having nothing to say.

and Love is not needing to say anything at all.

Fortunate the ancient priest,

He followed the brightest star,

The winds of the lands tore at his clothes

until his skin was bare,

And all exposed for all to see,

the gentle priest still walked ahead,

following his luminous beacon,

as the days passed end on end.

The sun awoke on the 29th day,

and the priest was shocked to see.

A beautiful lady standing there,

who was just as naked as he.

She asked him of his origin,

he spoke of lands afar.

She asked him of his destination,

He said the brightest star.

The priest looked deep into her eyes,

and as she met his sight.

The brightest star shimmered first,

and then faded into the night.

Mysterious are the subtle ways,

that guide us toward our fate.

Impatient are the sands of time,

you shouldn't hesitate.

There's no greater pain,

Than a love that's not returned.

There's no greater need,

Than affection that's received.

A failed love is a wicked sight,

Torrential pain and sleepless nights.

For broken hearts there is no cast,

Eternity is a time long passed.

And now the famine took away,

The love we craved for oh so long.

Shallow goals are healthy things,

For starving souls who ate like kings.

Tiny steps to mend the heart,

Tears to wash away the scars.

And recreate the soul to be,

Cleanse the crown till the king is free.