High alone at night

Getting high alone is always a different experience. Undiluted by the presence of others, my own self sorrounds me. I am humbled, amazed, flattered and flabbergasted by my own brilliance. I'm also a little annoyed. And cowed. And afraid.

The wind whispers
Silent secrets
Into my ears.
Their hushed cadence
I hear.
I am alive.
Now
In the moment...
It is agony
It is ecstasy
It is what IS
And what will be
It is life
And so
It begins.

Sleep - A Cycle

Read this differently. What you see is how you see it. Try...

Sleep
For the innocent shall
Dream
For they who do not
Live
For they who do
Forget
For those who do not
Die
For those who do not
Play
For they who shall
Dream
For those who do shall
Sleep

A random drunken Fancy

And I drift along like the moon
Among the clouds wandering
Less beautiful somehow
Yet, nonetheless, a beautiful thing
Is thought condensed of all malady
A beautiful thing, a prize pursued...
For it's not all about silver rings
And tales long forgotten.
It's a tale of beautiful things
Of princesses oft gotten...
Of cabbages and kings
And of promises broken.
It's a tale of thought and life
And life and thought unknown
It's a life of thought unbroken
And of roads walked among the shadows
All alone....