June 11, 2010

  • ™Deyja of the omens™
    ©K.R.N©

    I don't get it

    why oh why do people think they get to stop

    we are always evolving day by day

    we catch it in children

    what makes us think just cos

    the crown of our heads stopped reaching

    for the glory of the heavens above

    that we should follow suit

    with the jewels within

    if you are still doing the same act to make up for your inabilities in ones 40's like

    one did when they where in their 20's then they have missed the point of growth

    the wings feathers of grassy blades

    fingers dancing marching keys ivory notes

    seasons playing spiraling leaves of tea

    time space shyt stars supernovas

    there is nothing at all of mi

    merely the imperfection

    of three points before

    the babble of .1415926535

    eye am running out of strokes

    as the fools within lays wounded

    bleed from his leaps of faith

    as the aeros of rose thorns

    are the touch below

    the bridge

    of my neck

     

June 9, 2010

  • ™Deyja of the omens™
    ©K.R.N©

    they want a piece of me

    when all I want is peace of mind

    tearing at my limbs they reap

    till eye am sore......

    blessed is my frame

    it feels no point

    of pain

    less

    it is stabbed by

    emotions

    they have words

    they wish me to say

    since they fear

    even the echo

    of their voices

    afraid to do

    what is right

    they long for me

    to shoulder

    their dreams

    smiling as they do

    never noticing

    eye am dying

    bleeding

    from

    a wound

    called revelation

     

May 11, 2010

  •  

     

    i know now why i haven't posted anything fore i have entered a state of not sharing....this newest story is merely a phantom at this point yet it has forced me already to withdraw from any other ideas....

     on a lighter note the best question ever to get from a perfect sound mind who appears be to as bright as the day "do these stairs go up" mind you we are on the first floor....with no staircase adjacent leading down....so one has to wonder....have we really evolved....or do we just throw some really amazing shit

March 19, 2010

  • why do people avoid hearing "No" and where it lead

    the power of the word no is the weapon of death
    the power of the word know is the weapon of man
    the power of the word naught is half of fates glass
    the power of the word knot is the other half of fates glass

    shall we have a drink
    and find out who has what
    for fears fore fear's sake

February 14, 2010

  • ™Deyja of the omens™
    ©K.R.N©

    - - to honor she who eye have given up

    with ever the heaviest of hearts - -

    I would never shun her from viewing windows into my life

    but what eye am sealed from is the right to rely on her

    as with every story that is a life

    when one abuses anything

    like relying on a ability/spiecal person

    then well when the character

    is presented with a shift

    in the stage

    of stories

    life will always

    step in an take away

    what was so much like a limb

    the more I care about you

    the more unreasonable I become

    so with everyone I try to skim

    along the surface never wanting

    to enter that red mark

    fore once there

    my devil is free

    its funny

    my passion

    must be controlled

    bottled&taken

    in sips


    fore it is never fair

    to the other

    the depths

    of my passion

    or its demands
    of self

    &

    other

    trapped

    in my affairs

    *

    - - spoken rived- -

    yet”

    if you learn anything in life

    be it this that life is not measured by how you live it

    but how you spend dying in it...knowing what has been

    paid before us and after us.....in order to know

    what one is willing to die with

    rather then just what one

    will live fore

    some”

    yes I know this is a very dark narrow of a swallow

    if taken by the hands with rigged eyes at their fingertips

    the story is easy to paint if not soak in splatters

    as would be if one dropped a bottle of red wine

    but one must like eye have said before

    sleep in the eyes of serpents

    before they can really

    understand me

    yee”

    eye would be willing to die

    the enemy of all life

    if eye was able

    to free

    the blood

    within

    us all

    in the process

    *

    eye have drifted long enough

    fore eye from the start have said

    this will be my last hymn to her

    eye the monk known as rOo

    the devil of devils

    must suffer

    caged

    but before eye am bound

    in seals&oaths

    before the ritual

    comes to a close

    eye would spill

    these last

    few seeds

    of self

    to bloom

    something worthy

    of her sight

    *

    myths turn into a kiss with destiny

    as dreams gather from the folds

    of the finite absolution

    known as memories

    each moment

    a fluttering

    beat of

    a souls

    wings

    spirits

    dance

    along

    this

    mirrored

    lake rippling

    each firefly's

    flickering

    speech


    eye stumble

    chasing shadows

    along these cobble paths

    fore how does one truly

    honour she who is

    & forever will be

    the muse

    of the Dogstar

    that is rOo

    how does one

    reveal

    the spells

    in the silence

    of her stares

    charm&wit

    in her ease

    though she stumbles

    balance is her show

    always able to catch

    every falling piece

    before descent

    can reach

    the surface

    in a dance with gravity

    she who's motions

    kept many a witness

    to the parts of life

    no one talks

    about

    but to self

    there is no emptiness

    her being will not fill

    she who painted fifty four strokes of thunder

    chilling me to the bone at the desire of stars

    fallow of life she shimmers from any distance

    her vim&vigor

    for the experience

    of life's webs

    as they sway

    in a spring breeze

    ebbing with the thoughts

    of clouds&sunbeams

    eye camped under her stars

    a not so silent witness

    to the glory

    that is

    her

    eye sing with silence

    as my heart roars

    what my mind

    can not paint

    the mystery

    that is the answer

    she opened doors

    when all eye

    saw where windows

    sealed shut from

    any seeping

    coolness

    she returned

    a sense of passion

    to meeting strange

    faces in the dark

    the frosty smitten

    scent of our

    physics

    to-get-her

    *

    once a nightingale sung that

    eye was a knight of the forest

    fore eye knelt down bowing

    humbled by the glory

    that is she who

    like the roots

    to the tips

    of a pine's reach

    four one merely had to listen to the trembling terra”

    to hear the songs of her heart

    calming awe that is a storm at sea

    witnessed at the bare foot of foaming surf

    that much eye can say is she without a hint of doubt

    a simple complexity zooming by at the speed of smoke signals

    when pressed closely all the matter seems cluttered

    yet taken with a step back

    &

    the forest that is the perspiration dressed as settling dew

    or more the inspiration seeping from her being

    smiling at me now.....

January 23, 2010

  • cos i know whats coming

    i just never get out of the way

    i figured it out 3 years ago

    i just didn't think my time be this short with it

    seeing the arrow coming is no reason to run....though it does help one run...its just going to suck either way

    so i just stood there

    and watched it all coming

    or as i call it the roaring of silence as it settles between two people like gaps between atoms

January 22, 2010

  • it has taken a while but it has come to me now
    what it is that has been haunting me these past few months
    eye am waiting to cry....

November 22, 2009

  • 42

    the runner
    oh the runner
    she appears when
    eye long to escape
    in clouds of smoke

    she whispers too
    of heaven's
    gates
    of how they shine
    washing away
    all the ego
    called
    the moments
    of today
    know
    we will be who
    we are meant
    to be before
    the gaze
    of that witch
    who is so pure
    & benign

    fore those lost
    eye know why
    one would
    hurry
    into such
    lights

    but remember
    that the light is always
    within sight if one
    is willing
    to

    close their eyes
    and remember a life before our own

    ™Deyja of the omens™
    ©K.R.N©

November 11, 2009

  • its hard to be lately
    but then again I have been rather a character
    of late even to the point of typing with my eyes closed so I can just be whole again
    there is a moment I my life tat seem to be missing a real point

    the river it turns this season
    as last it ran rappidly through
    swallowing the summer whole

    no camera I own makes me happy
    they all lack the one thing I want
    which is to capture what eye sea
    nature sure gave us some nice eyes
    we may not have night vision
    but

    *

    THE CRACKING WAVES

    the sharpened state of a night filled
    with a scent of long drawn knives
    when a song fits it fits

    though

    when to use it is another matter

    if tools are weapons and tasks the enemy
    then songs as a tool are rather oddly shaped
    but when the matter falls and gravity must reap its due
    then well a song does fore life what light does for sight

    *

    "fore she is the cause and joy the infliction”

    “eye sea”

    her
    each
    moment
    as eye wake
    she is the rushing stream witch
    enchants my rivers to roar
    she who is a be yonder
    fore eye than any keystone
    which had held my paths before
    visions of her
    as eye be
    a cup
    of

    “tea leaves spiraling”

    before eye sleep
    as in dreams we meet
    dancing on an island
    freshly suited to
    grow our

    “to-get-her-nest”

    it is this sight that gives me
    hope that tomorrow is one moment closer
    to when the gaps in distance
    &
    reach will meet

    ™Deyja of the omens™
    ©K.R.N©

October 28, 2009

  • Deyja of the omens

    ©K.R.N©

    eye trust the mirror that is the water as it reveals to eye

    into the wind's winding limbs

    as elder oaks dance

    at the joy of a clapping new born

    touching the spark of the first

    of many circle

    as the hour glass lets go

    a grain free falling waiting

    for the rest to follow

    white rivers of clouds

    days of wonder and joy

    as part of eye smiles

    at getting older

    watching

    another

    play

    without

    reserve

    for anything else

    bubble of reality known

    as their whole circle

    eye wish with all my heart

    they hold onto that feeling forever

    till the day they give and travel

    to visit their crazy uncle that is eye

    who by then will have moved behind

    the wide gates of the roaring silence

    *

    it is rather hard for me to express anything other then joy

    when it comes to thinking about the muse in my life

    she is after all the only light which burns without fuel

    the fuel being a piece of myself in return.......

    eye give her nothing but myself

    as it is... without any additives

    as organic as one can be

    is what we sip

    from each other

    even with

    everyone

    else in the world

    smiling and waving

    at me each morning

    eye feel nothing

    but if she

    leaves

    a message

    with just a smiley face

    and it will turn my whole day around

    *

    can one give their life to someone else

    without giving up themselves eye wonder

    *

    eye have talked about magic

    the universe to the uni-verse

    from the fire that burns

    to the bitterness of winters bite

    to the pale frame of my youth

    yet eye have yet

    too in my ten year search

    to piece together the book

    that elusive book

    yet its funny eye know

    my first book will be

    the one eye want to publish

    but it will be my second book

    that will sea the light of day

    how do I know this

    fore it is the price

    eye pay for having

    such a typical

    sound

    I sound like any

    dreaming wandering

    20 something year old

    who will not face

    truth in that

    maybe

    destiny

    will not be knocking

    any time soon

    fore the calling

    that is to be the ethos

    of my life should be

    found when it is

    found right

    to plant

    meanings

    is something

    fore the mad

    fore life is

    never fully

    in ones

    control

    only

    our

    motions

    to emotions

    called reactions

    *