Does time heal ?

Does time heal ?
When wrong versus wrong.
When guilt subsides other guilt.
When lies cover other lies.

Does time heal ?
When forgiveness always has a less then pure rationale.
When reality hits.
And the edge of human emotion is tampered with.
When nothing and no one is real any more.

Does time heal ?
When the ego refuses.
When pride snatches back sanity.
When the want there is undermined by society.

Does time heal?
When your given an open easy option out.
When your split in two.
When you never forget.

Does time heal?
When you don't want it to.
When you can't save your self.
When you can't heal yourself.
When you can't forgive your self.

People are constantly searching for the truth but the real journey is when truth knocks at your door and says ' Here I am, Accept me or Deny me'. 
The Lies will be dusted off. The truth will shine. And you will no longer be cheated of the clear life that you should have.

I haven't lost much and you will see I have gained so much more then I ever expected.

Dueces

April 12th 2012

A Pure White Rose.

My gardener 

Your touch, unknown 

Innocent meadow frolics was the under-tone.  

The expressions all hidden with play; 

As a child's youth wiped and lead astray.

Commanding whispers ,

now siren .

Angry warning chants from tree tops; 

to a past me ,

A young me .

A bubbly insecure ,

A Lost me . 

The early discovers of this not so intriguing world; 

Astounded and bewildering .

The thoughts were 

New and interesting, 

Yet this disease is frosted over with 

Bonds of trust .

Hangman-tied up with 

Bonds of blood 

Of loyalty.

Vanilla sugar coated with routine.

A life time later and the score is set. 

The seeds of vile infestation have grown, bountiful in their new living form. 

But no living being knows how this once pure white rose now sources; 

From its roots only black poisonous sustenance it seeps .

From its smell the rose is presently temptuoes. 

Its appearance, none can go past .

Its being, wanted by all. 

It is cut and nothing.It is cut deeper. 

And there bleeds black. 

Black clotted blood, 

That drips slow and sad. 

All that is planted is planted pure. 

The poisoning.

The touch. 

Of that harvested seed, 

Is what we have now. 

Now everything makes sense 

Years and years of suppression 

Of denial 

Of ignorance 

Naivety. 

'Bless you were only a sprout, 

A child,' child' 

All events and emotions for adults 

To play, lose and win at 

Were all things your should have not seen, 

Should have not heard. 

Should have not felt the touch of .

And now the sadness lies with the lost time 

Of youth.

Lost years of confusion and dis-orientation. 

The lost days of hating at all your species.

Lost hours of self justification. 

Through the wrong means, 

Yes that was wrong.

And that was wrong .

And that one. 

And now this being 

Child. 

This Flower, 

Is haunted by the lost minutes 

Of flashbacks. 

The lost seconds of hatefully understanding what was. 

And what shouldn't of been 

Now this white rose is enveloped in the pumping toxic blackening poison within. 

This rose's evil filled thorns are waiting to be cut. 

The stem to be racked off 

Dismembered from the contaminated touch; 

and cut from the grips of this suicidal source that life let's live on,

That is blended with the inner death of innocence 

Bleed out the black.

The numbness. 

The ivy being. 

The touch. 

To bleed out everything that stops this 

Pure 

White 

Rose 

Being 

A 

Pure 

White 

Rose.

Pictures from

http://www.etsy.com/listing/77682170/bleeding-white-rose-original-still-life andhttp://www.ikbis.com/shots/156229?locale=en 

Torment.

When we walk in circles empty, 

We walk dying. 

When we drown in our actions and tears, 

we submerge and float helpless. 




When we knock, 

repeatedly knock in to that glass sharded


barb-wired


 hard wall. 

Head forward.

Crashing at full momentum.

Whilst cold clammy palms lay bare


 flat and inflicted on this wall. 

Taking the repelled energy back to the same flesh ripping, 

Skull shattering wall.

Blood dripping from forehead to nose and cheek. 

Pieces of skin, clotted and lucid blood inhaled in with every deep breath when striking 


and stricking injury. 

Again and again.


Exhausted. 

Lips trembling of pain. 

Salty from tears and those Red 

Red drips . 

Condensation from the two.

Mouth breathing in gusts . 




When we forget to feel, 

that feeling of heart, 

Of keeping whole.

And wanting pure and true. 

We become. 

Only the accustomed pain we revel in 

We enjoy, 


we relishes the high 

The sting,


the burn of euphoria . 





When we slaughter ourselves 

The same way, 

Everyday, 

We begin not feel that pain 

The injury,

 of the next approaching stab; 

the shardes of glass and brick and wire that becomes apart of us.

That become us.




When we walk in cycles empty 

We walk dying. 

When we drown in our actions and tears,

We submerge and  float helpless.




When pain becomes us 

And we become pain 





Life becomes torment.

5.16 am Sunday January 2012

Balcony Door.


Trucks.


Birds Chirp.


Haze.


Insomnia.

Random#

I thought life would be boring and


less interesting without you seems the opposite.


Kudo's to new friends new breaths of life


 and cheers to letting go.!

The one that got away.

Should I have let you go. . .

In the palm of my hand. 
Darn, all for just the 
Sense and sensibility of the situation. 

Why so rational and logical . . . 
At such an irrational and illogical age, 
That was before . 
The lust, 
I should have trust 
Yet morals were made in haste. 
Previously calming but now puzzling. 

Should I have let go . . . 
In something that came to me. 
That was mine. 

For a small fraction of time. . 
Or for however long I could have wanted it. 
Reminising over something that hardly started, 
That was hardly there 
But was my choice to ignite the hardly there flame . 
And potentially start and stop 
With a gentle blow through 
these 
innocent 
lips, 
And a simple shrug of my hips. 

Innocent actions 
All for the greater good. 
All for future purpose. 
All for bettering both. 

And what's to show for all that, 
Could have been missed, 
Chosen not to be missed? 

Should I have let u go. . 
In the palm of my hand 
Darn, 
Should. I have let go 
In something that came to me 
That was mine. 
Now all there is this 
Parting was such sweet intimate sorrow 
Reminisce.
Bliss .

Picture byAmanda Kitswell : http://th04.deviantart.net/fs70/300W/i/2011/223/3/e/reaching_by_amandakitswell-d4688i3.jpg

Frozen time

Time will not stop
Time will not wait.

To mend broken hearts and broken minds.
Broken souls.
Broken people we have become.

An escalation or wrong
Thoughts of right.
Proceeding through blunt burning nails.
Temptation prodded and poked.
A choice had we of many.
Destruction and peril close
and landed afoot.

Time will not stop.
Time will not wait.

Asunder the wreckage
shattered hopes
lie diminished
upon the now unreachable dreams
wants and needs.

Time will not stop.
Time will not wait.

For drop grape, haste came.
A sacrifice like no other.
Of faith.
Of dreams.
Of change.
As we lost way,
led deeply astray.

Time will not stop.
Time will not wait.

And now present has past,
the past is the present.
Redemption is seeked;
from each-other and above.
Reconciliation extended,
to far to see.

Souls struggled
search sorrowfully in stagger.
Surreal serene ecstasy
momentarily hath doth blind
with nails of hell.

Ones so pure-hearted,
So righteous.
Ones encrypted to each-others print.

Time will not stop.
Time will not wait.

To mend broken hearts and broken minds.

Broken souls.
Broken people we have became.


Copy-written Dec 2007 by Mino Rock

Picture courtesy of : http://i49.tinypic.com/dr9i86.jpg


[ I wrote this five years ago when I presumed I had my own proven stubborn philosophy about everything and anything.  Sometimes the youth have the upper hand of this stubbornness of keeping their ideals and then apparent grown-up-land, that we let slip by somehow humanly undetected. Naive minds stronger then experienced ones that have see things and done things that we could all live with-out . Oh how the mighty have fallen and fallen hard. ]. Edited and uploaded as Published.

Its Like.

Its like I leaped a little.
Its like I let go;
Of grudges
Past perception.
Let go of routine
The damning killing routines.
Its like I'm fluttering,
Opening up thoughts of
Continuity.
Allowing the continuation of a difference.
Instead of that bland sickening feeling of yesterday repeating itself.

Its like I'm free
Of everything
And everyone.
Lost in my own piece of mind.
Its like my time is here.
And rolling
Calmly
and up ..up..
and away.

Taking solice and joy with what I have
And who I am.
Scratches tainted corners and all.

Its like my heart is whole again and my sense is creeping back.

Its like the essence of me is intensified.
Clarified and strong.

Its like I am happy and content.
Like I am my own best friend.
Its like
I am me again.

BackDated October 2011

Sunday October 2nd 2011

It is October and no chills just yet.
The Londoners have already packed up for winter;
boots, hats, ear muffs and coats.
The last week has ruined our plans,
with the suprising summers weather and humid of days.
We were not ready but made use of the fortunate turn of weather.
-Random like life.
This reminds us that everything is unpredictable
and our feeble souls have no power;
except to accept
and go with what is handed to us.
Rejoice in sun, good-times and happiness.
And rub warm for the approaching sinister cold.

It is October and no chills have come yet.
I am 22 and still in awe of time, destiny and the unfolding history everyday;
Like the turbulent weather in the tide of life I have clashed with another.
When avoidance of connecting with others electric impulses is what I strayed from.
-Running away from any form of deepth has been my safety net of falls.

It is October and it has been 365 days times 2;
since I truely looked at another human being and saw Life,
instead of the inner death of me.
The trees are sunlit and confused with their autumn maroon jem-coloured leaves.
They feel submerged with the warm comfort shinning on them.
I know too well of their multitude of thoughts.
The grass is cooling but not anymore refreshing then knowing; 
not one singular hair of grass was here last year.

-As my pain peaks-Randomized;
of all the little words, the razor-cuts and the larger knife stabs
of the hurt, the tears and emptiness.
Every piece of grass are like these.
And my awe stretches as I comprehend;
that one day all the darkness inside
shall be replaced by new grass.
Grass infantry in its roots but more well nurtured,
than my flowers and weeds through my adolences.

It is the second day of October,
and the cold has not hit just yet.
This day will go.
This time will go.
And it will never be that warm wonderful day in October again.

The occasion

The occasion came,

Came and Past.

So let's go back to how it was.

How it should have always been.

And give up the constantly intrusive

facade.

Of moments.

That need not be.

For ones more enriching,

Wholesome and nurturing.

Humane.

Without the basic instinct of need

and want and have.

Which has been had.

The occasion came and went.

So lets LET the facade,

that came and went, GO.!

Copy-written by Mino Rock. Backdated from May 10th 2011

PIT

emptiness 

dark

the silence after the storm

the storm of events laughter

sparks, distraction

then

gutsts of cold icy icy

air gushes in the face of conscious sleep

think 

think

were did it go all wrong

was it ever right

okay

okay

then there are no thoughts

just loneliness

awake

aseelp

and inbetween the two

what torture there is without faith

without purpose

and all i want is someone to not

accept

not allow

but support

with harsh rigid scepticism

say

no

you are wrong

you are doing wrong

and not be my friend

as it turns out

i am not even my friend

a partner companion

builder of a rightful pure

purposefull future

but right now

i have to work on a right self

doing right things

and not just thinking of right intentions

alas my friend

we shall feel no pain

or feel nothing

as i once used to

and always will wish.

how do you

how do

u

do u....

BackDated from November9th 2011