Describing Success

Success cannot be defined
Success cannot be measured
It is something that we find
Doing well under pressure
But success is your best
No matter how good you are
Just work hard with less rest
And you will surely fly far

Random Bliss

To break out of the cage
Is to swim in the sky
Giving up the stress
While I loosen my tie

To love, to care, to listen
My battered soul has finally arisen

Out of the depths unknown
Out of my hectic head
Where it is me alone
Dropping all that's lead

Floating,wondering, laughing, listening
No worries in the world
Joyful tears start glistening

Stirring Secrets

Pondering thoughts in my intellect
To what events occur while at slumber.
What trees have fallen
What stars have exploded
What dreams that are dreamt
What treasures are left untouched
Buried under mother earth's crust
In similarity to how my thoughts are hidden
Secrets are guessed upon
But guesses will be the end
How marvelous the wonders of the Universe are.

Waking

Alone I'm enlightened
Surrounded I'm pressed
Looking at the world through glass eyes
Early morning sand is flung away
Now the sand has scamppered
Pristine vision is constant
But you must wake up
and wipe your vision
to see your vision.

http://salinger.50webs.org/html/madison.html

Use the link above to view the short story (A Slight Rebellion Off Madison) by JD Salinger

Just read it in the library from the New Yorker collected short stories. Great read.

Books of Knowledge

Books books
Everyone looks
Some see words
But in those words you see
Words create a picture for me
A plethera of information
Happiness and devestation
I ask why did they write this
To understand their logical abysse
Words create lessons, and lend a hand
In books; the authors world, you will land!

The Night At The Lake

Walking through the night I've lived
No one's ever there
Talking through the grief I've had
But no one ever cares

Crossing the creek bridge with my head down
I realize there is another man sporting a frown

Walking faster I gave a glance at him
Was he normal was he sane?
Peeking through the ferns; he suddenly yelled for Jane.

I was for sure not the person he was searching for
But aghast for what my eyes have seen
His shirt is ripped with all blood and gore
Fore my eyes are very keen

Jane! Jane! was all he could say

standing on that sand

Should I approach, run, or just remain where I stand?

Horror pumping through my veins.
I don't want to stay a while
He waded in with his pains
Inserting himself like a file

Next I saw him sink away
No struggle, No signs of resistance
Then I saw a ghost sway
Rising up in the distance

But it wasn't the man in the lake
It seemed like a person
She was dead, but awake
Lakeside there were no tears to worsen

The reunited left the lake
Deep forests lost their figure
Was this real or was it fake
To me the event was hard to configure.


The next day the lake had gone
No puddle to be splashed
There was just a little fawn
Dead
Which a bullet had swiftly slashed

I went home with the fawn
Gently caressing its body and head
And buried it in the lawn
I kept diggin and strangly found uncle ted
He had blood stains,
and his shirt was soaked
Hand clasped with another
Thinking back, I nearly choked

Then I went inside and asked Sherry
Was Uncle Ted was single for all his life?
He liked a girl in the forest who picked berry's
She responded "but yes, he had no wife"
But she tragically died in the lake last week
But dont tell ted yet, otherwise he'll freak

"Well Sherry come look out here"
I went out the door
And the Fawn was alive as a grown deer
And nothing but a green grass floor
What was happening what did I see
Blood on my soul as i fell to my knee.