Tougher

What’s tougher than being the edge of somewhere. A place on the verge hardly has grip. Drop under yourself to swing your perspective. Gain the new page of a book never written, a language forgotten, a chase never given. The dark misleading rugged path now heavily threaded with the fallen footsteps of your shadowy predecessors. Stretching out in your forward gaze like a deep gorge ever extending before you, looming darkly like a hawk upon the timid mouse. Dare you falter, you begin to think, the bruises won’t be so pretty. This thorn infested tunnel of a road invites few and laughs at all who bring themselves to cross it. Your chin is held high. And you spit at the stones beneath you before laughing back and taking your first step into this welcoming abyss.

 

Writing

Writing
Not an escape,
But a freedom, yes
phrases drip on the page
This, the stain of my brush
Otherworldly thoughts slip from my head
Somewhere up above my art has been shed
Like a light upon me
To train my hands
To teach not only one but all
A crutch for when I do fall
A support to lean on
A dream to cling to
A finite lovely path to explore
Yet ridden with bristles, stickers, and thorns
This new way to live is all I’ve asked for.

 

Genius

At one point all great ideas were stupid right? As with all innovative things in history the idea probably sounded simple minded to people who were used to thinking a certain way.

“Seriously? The sun revolves around the earth. How could it be the other way around? That makes no since at all.” Or “You can travel around the world. It’s flat, not round you’ll sail right off into nowhere!”

Some ideas are much too large for their time. Dare yourself to risk the possibility of sounding stupid if you believe your idea is valid. And then watch this video on theli0nwriter YouTube channel/or underneath my vlog page here.

~thelionwriter

 

Untapped Minds

Cascading crashing
Denying strapping
Vicious tiny clapping
For a scene halfway done
The climax of the sun
Rising over
Tying bolder
Statements
To claim this
Overstated
Under-stimulated
Unnecessarily complicated
World
We lose the ability to twirl
Or even be frail
In faces of dangers
In places of stranger
Times
Uncrossed lines
Unwrapped and untapped
Minds to find
Honesty and promising
Your word, works
Perfectly and flawlessly
Every
Single
Time

~thelionwriter

 

Patience

When you get lost, enjoy the view…

Add me on twitter: @thelionwriter
subscribe to my YouTube: theli0nwriter
~thelionwriter

 

Hedonism

This short video explains my theory of humans’ tendency to consume.

Add me on twitter: @thelionwriter
subscribe to my YouTube: theli0nwriter
~thelionwriter

 

Halting Progress

Compromise,
I shall not try
I’d rather die
Or let slide
The conflicts
Or cliques 
That arise

Nations 
Collide
Caving
Divides
Between 
life’s seams
Broken by lies

While mountains quake
Let’s pound the brakes
On progress to mess
With fate

 

Keep Your Doors Open

Open up all your doors
require no more keys,
Nor hide what is seen
Doused in shadows of noir
Anciently inspired folklore
creaks resonate like a roar
Silent dark best be explored
With a third eye
Or a gold tie
On a keychain
To remove blame
And enact change
Like summer heat
Will become rain
~thelionwriter

 

Photo Albums

Flipping through old memories,

scattered on the floor, 

letting images fall into their place,

recalling a golden age,

forgetting life is a stage,

hands outstretched to bathe,

in the waterfalls of bliss,

pages dripping off my wrists

nostalgia strikes,

hard enough to make me sick

curious child mounting,

unknowingly

drowning in age old fountain,

of youth

thought to be lost,

now found,

bound in plastic

wrapped up to describe

the passage

of life in mapping

my family’s unique vision,

a cure for depression
is the lesson of the past,
a tool to navigate my future,
to travel in newer,
form of what I was born as
fresh reasons to explore what I once had,
thank god
for such helpful and forgetful photographs

~thelionwriter

 

Imagination

Imagination,

my only true refuge,
from cruel news,
emanating
from my pupils,
the rude show,
this type of freedom
with their being,
while my mind escapes,
Myself by fleeting.

~thelionwriter