just around the river bend

'should I choose the smoothest course
steady as the beating drum...

or do you still wait for me dream-giver
just around the river bend?'

That fork in the road of which Pocahontas speaks,
are life-changing decisions that are familiar to us all,
along with the thought that there is one who seeks
to lead us to our destiny if we simply reach out and call

And yet, even those who believe in that type of fate
find ourselves stuck on a rock somewhere
wondering how we ended up in this state
how did we meander and find ourselves here?

Following your dreams means knowing what they are
and knowing means there's no shadow of a doubt,
but what if your dreams and hopes take you too far
what if they all blend and none of them stand out?

Then? Then you are left with lots that you like
many paths that could potentially be the one
and you'll be too confused about which match to strike,
which passion to ignite and road to travel on.

And what then if it's only a part that you prefer
what if the details of that passion do not interest you?
Do you still delve deep to better equip yourself and suffer
or merely skim the surface and remain true?

It is simply too complex to live out the phrase
'follow your dreams to the end'
when there are just too many dreams to chase
and only one life to spend.

he who knows

Trust.

Taking people at their word, at the exterior they show you, at the faces they display and the emotions and words they express.

Intimacy.

We crave it. We need it. So much so that we will trust what we see and hear, all to acquire it.

But do we really know anyone. Do you really know me, or me you? Or do you only know what I want you to know, what I want you to see, what I want you to believe and to trust.

Do you trust that you know the next person?

I sure don't.

The only one I know that I know... is me.

mind boggling

my brain is fat
chock full of thoughts
bumping and swirling around
can't control them all
an idea or two of the creative kind
a memory of work getting left behind
a shock of deadlines fast approaching
a reminder to go back and check something
did I write it down?
have I eaten?
did I make that call?
oops, forgot to listen...
what was it that she said?
something about a meeting floating in my head
Have I read that article?
did I comment?
am I already prepared?
was that email sent?
and on and on these thoughts of mine go
the half of them, you'll never know.

seasonal

Is it only a matter of time
before you become them...

Before the course of commonality
has been run to the end
and the fire of the beginning
has burned to cinder...

Before we run out of things to say
and reasons to say them,
and the silence becomes comfortable
and disheartening at the same time?

Or will you be one of the few
that hold their place in the spotlight
and never fall into the abyss of the crowd...

time.
only time.

shades of gray

gray days
where everything gets foggy
and nonsense makes sense
and yearning is comfort
and pain is pleasure
and you feel
feel the most human
full of excitement and fear
and hope and despair

those hazy gray days
where nothing is black
that absorbs all it gets
and nothing is white
that takes all and reflects
but everything is shady
and all gets included,
and all contemplated
and all ruminated
and nothing decided

those crazy hazy gray days
that shade extremes
and break everything into colour.

contact

Your presence is all that matters,
just knowing you're right there...

'In our shattered times, anguish relents
Not at mere idle words spoken in vain,
But rather from the silent eloquence
Bestowed by those rare souls who share our pain.'
—Evans

trapped

we are suckers for punishment
we faced it before
and said we'd walk away
yet, here we are
saying we wanna leave
but continuing to stay

It's addictive
we've fallen into the mold
the quicksand trap
that pulled us too far deep,
now near impossible to quit cold

Everything is too familiar
extremely comfortable
too comfortable in fact
yet filled with discomfort all at once.
A confusion of a situation;
the fine line border
between misery and pleasure

so here we are again...
enduring the misery
to the climax of an end

selective

I want to talk.
I want to scream.
I want to release.
I want to hear about someone's else's day
... just not yours.

I want people around me.
I want people to laugh with.
I want someone to share with.
I want people with funny facial expressions
... just not you.

I want to play games.
I want to exchange stories.
I want to compare ideas.
I want to have endless fun
... just not with you.

updated

New poems to read on I&I

think tank

My mind flies farther than I expect,
like a kite whose string reels faster
than it's master can hold.
It is constantly consumed with creativity
that takes away time from work-related reality.

Maybe it's best to tailor my mind
so my work time is not abused.
Maybe it's best to find a job
in which the creativity can be used.