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“Don’t waste yourself in rejection, Nor bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good.”

~~Ralph Emerson


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Good Intention Poem for 10/8

Do More,

Say Less,

Displace Stress,

Develop Talents,

Surround yourself with confident


who help you help them,

Strength stems

from seed of patience:

never placing soil hastily,

using mind’s eye

rather than senses,

for clarity,

when my judgment misses,

Invoke an illicit intent,

to become all I am each living moment

to learn how to wait,

patience with grace,

in times where emotions take over life’s race,

I need to be kind…

…re-open my mind

let knowledge roll forth,

understand yet be blind

walk steady my course

and embrace my full life.


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Posted by on October 22, 2014 in Journal Entries, Uncategorized, Writings


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Thoughts by TheLionWriter on 10/7



Yesterday was my Dad’s birthday. I feel as if time is speeding up for my life or perhaps everyone else’s time is slowing down. My year living on my own has matured me so much. There were many skins I slipped over my own, many shoes I donned on my feet, roles that even now I find myself intertwined with again: the ignored voice of reason, arrogant older brother shameful coward, impulsive dimwit, haughty rich man, dirty hippie, useless student, successful student, adamant lover, practicing Buddhist, energetic performer, simpleton, city boy, a reader charismatic leader, downtrodden loser, diligent worker, lazy burnout, typographer, planner, politician, salesman, venue owner, party-thrower, party-goer, party-pooper, dimissive intellectual, above all however a determined writer. I wonder now as my Dad becomes another year older if he became these many things in his twenty-second year of life and if he now scoffs as how trivial those days were. Even now I find myself longing for my last year of high school on the loneliest of days; thinking to myself “Wow, those were the days huh?”. Humans, perhaps the only creatures who lust after their past while mindlessly navigating the present. We are all but players on a grand stage- trading roles for each new act, ultimately learning each other’s parts till they are revealed to be one and the same. A play withing a play, a character within the character, the great symbolic motion we all groove to, teaching each other steps to the dance of life, whose song can only be hear faintly in the now like the wind of a candle being blown out on your birthday,,,,


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Posted by on October 22, 2014 in Journal Entries, Uncategorized, Writings


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Thoughts by thelionwriter

I am constantly depriving my body of sleep. My body says “now”, my mind stays restless. As if I might miss something phenomenal by going to bed before five in the morning; the thought alone is ridiculous. However, my thoughts pace feverishly back and forth in the caverns of my head telling me “stay awake a little bit longer.” It might be my subconcious’ way of saying there are still things for me to accomplish before I can rest, islands to discover, empires to build, minds to mold, people to encourage, an ocean of things for me to learn, hear, experience. “I know, I know!” I find myself saying, “I should sleep but there’s still so much I can do right now.” It’s never the small things I can remember in the dreary sleep deprived sunrises I watch. I never recall the laundry I should fold or the clothes I should wear tomorrow, I where I need to be the next night even; instead these impatient concepts and projects appear in my mind with enormous responsibilities, grand visions, and the epic elusive goals of a dreamer. Pictures and sounds flowing through my minds eye the way a memory collapses suddenly upon us- only these memories are a future that my heart can feel itself pulling towards. Alas, nature calls me back from my brain’s denial of relief so that slowly I can crawl towards the rest my only human body needs. Sunsets are overrated.


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Unspoken Words

How difficult can unspoken words become?

When we hide our desires and scorn the ones we love

How patient is the honesty that we all hope we have?

Does it lie inside us waiting,

Hoping that we ask:

“I really need your help,

What else can I do?”

Does truth answer back or does it leave it up to you?

Praying that maybe,

you’ll know what to choose,

but until a friend we lose,

we wrap ourselves in lies

with deception as a tie

slinging hate together,

as though it were our lives

such dart beady eyes,

concealing our own face

in roundabout paces

like our shadows in the night

Shall we continue in the dark

Or let our sunsets rise?

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Posted by on July 23, 2014 in Readings, Uncategorized, Writings


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One World, One Chance and Life as we know it!

Great red fantastic thoughts check it out

Endless Light and Love

one world

Now, I know I am not His Holiness The Dalai Lama, Jesus Christ, Allah, The Buddha, Lord Shiva, Lord Vishnu, Tich Nhat Hanh, Dr. Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, Mother Theresa, Amma, Oprah, Deepak Chopra, Biame, or any other global leader, I am just a simple man, someone who cares, someone who wants to make a difference, someone who sheds tears at the state of our world and someone who believes that we can make a difference and who believes in the faith of coming together as one in the name of our children.

So let’s take a look at the following statement.

“An individual has not started living until he/she can rise above the narrow confines of his/her individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.”

Wow! Now that’s a statement!

But what does it mean to you and I, to us so called normal people on the…

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Posted by on February 28, 2014 in Uncategorized


The Hate We Still Lack

Quietly weaving web
from the threads
of your unsaid words,
the herd
travels far from this hearth
small fires burning inside of the hearse we travel through
out to
Another brother,
wrapped up in covers
how the family unit moves to recover, what they never had
communication lines broken in half
lives sliced by the mass
of smashed ashes
and clash,
do the lines rued by the king
and his princess,
the rings
their mistress?
endless conflict
multiple distresses
the fact of the matter lies in girl’s dresses
only to lie,
in bed,
people never designed
in their mind but still find
how to detach
and react
to the way they will eventually die
or cry
out to the sky, of
how the timelines of yours
might align with mine
is only in silence and science
to pry out of our heads
and write down in lead
the way this writer will paint it read
Whereas mathematicians
create it in triads
Boxers will take it in jabs
Skinny punks smoke it in fags
And multiple people insist we all drag
On and on and on about
All of the useless hate we lack

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Posted by on November 28, 2013 in Journal Entries, Uncategorized, Writings


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