Tell Me

Tell me, what is there to do? They say we can not see the path we are on while we are on it. As days blend into years and years escape the moments, time itself becomes or became the watcher, either in the future or in the past it presents the present. And here it is.

What is there to do? Make choices, fake decisions, accept certain truths. The truths which were determined by time, the watcher.

So now tell me.






Accept, I guess… I do. With little or no reason. I simply do. Because I can’t tell myself what to do. Can you?

A Sense of Belonging

I do not belong here
Among the low of spirits and the weak of hearts
Of those whose tongues be shamed
Though I must speak of it the same


I do not belong here
Among the empty dreams and failed attempts
For I dream of Life and Love
A vision of peace and wonder sent from above


I do not belong here

though only now I realize I know

I have never felt the way my mind accepted

My heart always knew it couldn’t know


Though I sense so much more of where I belong

I know I have been wrong

My voice carries on meanings which have slipped passed my judgement

My mind carries on memories of the feelings

memories of the words

memories of the tears


I seem to have forgotten these times, though I search for meaning
I will never forget the feeling
It is of a time and setting misplaced


I know I do not belong here, yet I can not envision any other place

I can only sense I know another face

I belong among valor and love
I belong among the proud and virtuous


Let my mind speak to me and remind me why I am here
I have forgotten the purpose
And my soul waits

Let my heart speak to me and show me the reason
I feel imprisoned to a time, though not the hour which I seek

Let my soul and I complete

Be in quest of this place

the one and only of our dreams

the one of which we belong



It is interesting how we look for meaning and answers….

“why is this my life?”, “why am I the way that I am?”, “when will these thoughts and feelings make sense?”.

It is interesting how we forget the lessons we have learned along the way, as if searching for one answer is not enough, we seem to overlook it in our failed attempt to see the “big picture”. I am tired of being so selfish… I stopped writing the poem below because I can not justify my visions… whose to say where I belong? I realize that it should definitely not be me. I am persuaded by my desires. I dance with my ego and have become partner when once I was lead… A sense of belonging, perhaps one which was never meant to be…


Conversations with…

I am returning to my Abstract Conversations Series for inspiration… I will be working on some new conversations to see what answers I can find to my endless questioning… for now I share with you some of my original conversations. I am fond of the time I spent conversing with my thoughts and my Soul… This is republished from a while back… the conversations are published previously…

I have an obsession with conversations. Intelligent, deep, meaningful conversations… There is only so much one can learn from literature and history… there is a whole other world out there, many other worlds out there…The only way to reach them is through conversation, observing another’s Life and understanding even questioning why they are…

Why they are… indeed. The fundamental philosophical question. Why? Why are we? Now imagine this, a conversation with an abstract, something abstract made tangible for conversation with you, with me… I have had many of these conversations and am working towards that “perfect conversation“.

A perfect conversation? I believe it can be described as a flow of energy, a way of connecting with another and traveling to a place that is out of reach, it is a way of reading from the pages of Life, a way of transcending Self. It can be recalled as butterflies in the stomach, realizing you have touched on something that is larger than Self, a glimpse of knowledge and power too large to hold in the mind, so it simply slips away silently, gracefully. I am constantly searching for that perfect conversation… one I can hold in my heart and in my mind. It is always in my Soul.

Now I share with you some of my Abstract Conversations, I am always searching for a way to connect, a way to answer my Soul…

Conversation with Destiny

Conversation with Subconsciousness

Conversation with Knowledge

Conversation with Death

Conversation with Life

Who’s to say if I am the Abstract on the other side of this reality…
A Conversation with Reality… I have to find Reality first…


The stage is set

The scene is set. All are in position. Time draws near. The empty stage is infused with the energies of the participants. How in the history of the world can one have all these players in waiting for their debut? How in the world indeed…

If you could be in the presence of anyone, whom would you choose? What if it could be bigger than you imagined? How about instead of talking about life with someone… you could talk to Life, understand it, question it…

Death, same as above.

Speak to your mind and infuse it with interpretation.


Talk to Chaos, Emotion, Time… here is your chance. They are waiting in anticipation of your audience

Enter Life. Time. Death. Enter Chaos. Emotion. Purpose, meaning and Destiny

Can you truly find meaning in the meaningless?

Once there was a child, born in a world of chaos. Once there was a girl living in a world of hope. Once there was a life lived alone and shared with the infinity of possibility.

Once there was a time of passion and wonder, this time has since passed leaving the lonely to tend to the fields of unharvested dreams.  In solitude and silence they work., gently plowing and sowing fruitless hopes. The work tiredlessly. They work with little to no knowledge of their intentions. The know not what they do.

Weaving it all together. Leaving no room for poeticism. Why must there always be a story? Why can’t it be like life.


Chaos with Purpose.

And Life

They narrate their intention, infused with knowledge. All apologies knowledge could not be present tonight, though his role is interpreted in the dialogue

There is always a design beneath the surface. Perhaps an unseen pattern leaving light. Wielding emotion as a sword  would upon its final victory.




The stage is set… all in position for a marvelous show… how will you participate?