What was taught

It was told only as it was thought / taught to be
The way forward or the way inward... Depends on your point of view, i suppose 
The accent found the ear & the kick drum found the hart
You found me waiting & I asked if I had spoken
I mumble so much i wouldn't hear me either
But in the loud crowd i heard your plea for help. "Get me away from these fucking people"
Your face spoke more words that you had all night
My stomach cramping from laughter, my sight distorted by the tears. Mate, I have to go, I have a duty...
Not to her, but to my fellow human as I know too well the weight of the human condition & anything i can do to help lift it would give more meaning to my life than all the songs in history.
And its all about meaning, even if only the dance around time
This movement of the body is all we have for now
My eyes follow this movement & it makes me smile a great deal as we are evolving into our self made purpose & for that i love you and love myself

- Sleeps

Gate 27

She asked if this plane was for London
This interested me... Everything is interesting 
Not necessarily the surroundings, Singapore airport, i thought, was like any other until i met him, but the hours being morphed in to journey segments, like chapters in a book i cant remember reading
No real sleep. No real designated time. Everything is momentary - even this observation.
The travel to new places would be good but i'm torn between place and person.
I do not trust the girls i meet, with fair reasoning for a moron as i've been used and ignored before... But i guess what goes around...
I've grown now and can commit to something bigger than myself, just only seeing myself doing so with that of adventure and wild sexuality.
Show me i can have faith in you
Show me you're unafraid and can handle my intensity.
Put me in my place and show me the patience of roots and home
I want this and need this but have no reason or ability if you do not.
- Sleeps 

A Place to travel... But how to return and integrate?

A place to throw your money away... To keep a memory within a plastic novelty...
I love it... $30 a drink, enforcing the experience a moment
And that's what life is... The line.
But it's sometimes like a ballon floating over a sea of spikes
Maybe its me getting older..
Simply put, I seem to feel more, but care about less
I tear up at feelings and movies become more real to me than 'life', as this 'life' have many embedded with no inspiration
So here I am in a karaoke bar alone, but with the biggest of grins
Inspired by those who are here to escape their life sat right next to those who are here to live theirs
Led by those paid to be bubbly
Paid to feel
Paid to make others feel...
Well, hey, I'd pay for attention if it didn't come with an emotional hangover
I'm sure many would and many do
Opening opportunities for the emotionally scarred to be emotionally warm
But back to me and my lack of patience

Transparency or trust?

These transparent folders represent transparency
The documents visible to read
But with transparency comes complexity
A complexity which takes time, effort and hardships to understand
Who has time to read documents written in the hand of others?
That would require the study of hand
If a hand that evolves...

Do I need to understand the engine to ride the car?
Is the purpose of the car to reach a destination or enjoy a journey?
If I read the manual will I understand or trust the car more... or now just be bored?

The closer you get to anything, the more chaotic you realise it is...
Until it is not. Until you become so close you are between the atoms...
Between space, where nothing exists
That’s where dance exists
That’s where instantaneous smile burst into existence
You don’t need understanding or even trust to be there
You just need the movement... I mean the moment... wait a minute I need to check the process, the manual, the movie, the past...

I think, therefore I am spread from the moment and merge with both the future and the past. But not in a cool sci-fi way, instead a boring, anxiety driven loop

- Sleeps

Trace

Show me your scars
So I can see you have lived
Laugh and tell glorious stories of how each one of them came to be
So i can see you know how to live
Pause to take a moment. To listen. To feel.
As the finger slowly traces down the wound, the mind quickly flashes to where a hand traced down your face.
Was this the start of a new scar or the healing of an old one?
Either way time slows, freeze framing us all.
A picture for which the devil hangs on his wall to bring him peace and God keeps in his wallet just in case he is asked.
As I am snapped out of this day dream, we find ourselves in a moment that is past that in which we were, the obvious seeming so meaningful without understanding why.
All the while elevating us from the video games we were playing, up to the ultimate game we do not always realise we are playing.
But we don’t save seats here. Those that do, often sit and wait alone.
Here we banter, smile and talk to strangers.

I have found life is insanity with you, but am somehow sane because of you

- Sleeps

Rock

I feel I may have lost you but you have not lost me
Sat on this rock
For whenever or if ever you need to rest
From the swim
I too can swim with you or for you
Bomb in and splash for effect and fun
Or dive like a needle to minimise disruption
-
I know, though, swimmers grow through waves
I would not take that away from you
But I have begun to learn to ask for help
I hope you begin to do so too
If you do, I will be
Sat on this rock
For whenever or if ever you need to rest

- Sleeps

Over a hill

He wondered if he wasn’t told to fuck off
He wondered if he wasn’t told it wouldn’t happen
He wondered if he hadn’t heard the voice or the message
Would he have a voice, a place
Would he lean back one day watching his kid play, oblivious to all that has happened
All the choices, beliefs, sacrifices and reliefs his father went through
For them both to be here
One to play. One to lean back and smile.
He designed it all before his grandfather died
And before he died, his grandfather asked what the significance of the flower was
He thought for a moment and recalled a time when Something Beautiful was simply something beautiful
And reflected on how he had lost that for a while until he came across that flower
The flower had a beautiful life but didn’t think it could cope with him being in it
So instead starred at the wondrous silver columns of the falling rain that came through the peaceful sounds of a solitary night
When it rains it pours, but to see such beauty in pain and falling rain was rare.

- Sleeps

Absence until fulfilment

I’m leaving. It has to be this way.
But why? I am because of you. My life is built around you.
If I did not leave you would need to.
I don’t understand
I am not love in your heart, I am habit to your psychology
If I was always new, I would never be me
‘You’ is the trick that was pulled
I will miss you
You will miss yourself, but you will become something refined. Then you will see you don’t need me, then you will see I never left, then I will return and both ‘you’ and ‘I’ will die. It will be beautiful.
... and if I left?
Then we would be each other.
You’re not a movie, you’re a poem. Without diction. Without readers.
If you want to experience something, do so alone. If you want to live something, do so with someone.

Moon

Moon. You are not full.
But still so bright.
Awake with me at these hours (of night)
A companion so far away
But orbiting my world
Steadily watching over me and those I love as we all sleep.
Cloud. You obscure the twilight.
A period of obscurity, ambiguity and gradual decline
A traveling Samaritan you deliver somber to the soul, rain to the fires and water for seeds to grow
Goodnight. Be all you are and that/so you can be.
Until dawn comes to take away our dreams, I surrender to Morpheus, the shaper of form.

You are still, in this place
Moon. Cloud. Dream. Human.

- Sleeps