Thommay’s HeadSpace

And on the shattered surface we lay,
Shards of the perfect reality stab our backs
and they remind us of the
eden world
we left behind for our state of knowledge.
Bliss for knowing - what a choice.
Was it truely Eve? Or was it Adam?
That was the betrayor of him? her? it?
It is these questions that we would all know
the answers for
If only they could stay their lust of fruit.
Yet, why place such temptation if he? she? it?
wished to keep us as his? her? its? children?
These questions plague me and more -
divide me.
answer me not you will.
For you are the silent one.
Oblivious to my questions
as we lay here
with our shattered existance,
draining more than just our blood.

Alright, before I go any further and post any of my ACTUAL poetry. This comes with a little disclaimer. This bends SOME of the Outpost10f.com Prime Directives. The works contained here may or may not be sutable for young or sensative viewers. As such, Outpost10f.com does not take any responsibility for any of the thoughts or commontary in these following works. All works are copyright to the Author. Please respect intellectual copyright laws. Furthermore, by pressing the ‘more…’ link, you as a reader are agreeing to the fact that you could be offended by some or all of this material and shall not flame or disrespect the author in any fashion. Any complaints can be directed to Captain Nobbe via e-mail to tnobbe[removeme]@gmail.com.

For those of you who are still with me, please bear in mind the above disclaimer and enjoy the ride. (more…)

We are the forgotten children,
The ones who made mistakes.
We are the ones who try to set right,
What it is we have done wrong.

They are those that fight.
Longing for release,
Yet seemingly unable to listen when we say
“I was wrong.”

The globe spins,
’round and ’round.
I try and stand against it,
Yet I fight more than just space.

How, or why?
What happened?
When? and Who crossed who?
I am in part the cause of all destruction.

In this valley,
I see eagles circling.
For this prey is far too good
To leave for vultures.

What storm clouds that gather,
Those stars that collide,
Further to spread the beach sand,
Causing further irritation - I stand in their way.

Mere weather shall not stand in my way.
I have a goal, a journey to follow.
While it’s not been unscathed,
Blacked and hollowed, I must still fight on.

They are those who lie on the beach.
Knowing the cost, but hoping for naught.
I am the water that falls from the sky.
Trying to wash the sand away, for the time is high.

Serenity will soon come,
Hopefully the cost not too high.
For it is the day that we ask to say:
“We were wrong.”

We are those that lead our community.
We are those that take the extra time to make the hard calls.
We are those that make your recommendations reality.
We are those that hand out recognition.
We are those that don’t ask anything in return.
We are those that are taken for granted.
We are those that still are your friends.
We are those that don’t get asked how our day was.
We are those that don’t get hellos.
We are those that are approached when people want something.
We are those that don’t forget.
We are those that form your Executive Council.
We are those that don’t ask for (but still would like) a simple smile and thanks after a job well done.
We are those…

This poem speaks volumes to me about my life right now… I’m feeling this poem right now, like I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting for years. It’s funny how you can’t seem to articulate how you feel for yourself, but man…it’s nuts when you find someone else that can do it for you. Here’s to you Dave.

Here’s to you, dear
By: Tin-Char D’Un AKA: David

Here’s to anyone who ever loved.

Here’s to anyone who ever gave it their all, only to find it wasn’t enough.

Here’s to those of you who, despite the warnings of others, refused to back down for one second; refused to believe for even an instant that it wouldn’t work; that someone or something could take away from you that which you loved the most.

But what if that overwhelming force - the one thing that could break you down, chew you up and spit you out - what if that one thing came from inside the other half of your perfect partnership? What if, in holding on so tightly, you didn’t uncover your eyes for long enough to see the truth? The truth that sometimes there’s a time and a place for everything; that if it’s really meant to be, you have to give it the room to breathe; to grow.

Here’s to all of you who ever waited, and waited still. And still more.

Here’s to all of you that didn’t return; to all of you who weren’t returned to.

Here’s to all the waiters; the waited for.

I’ve given myself completely. I’ve opened myself up to you in ways you can’t begin to imagine. I’ve made myself vulnerable - a target - and for what? To sit and wait. And wait still. And still more.

So here’s to us. I’ll wait, and you know it well. Take your time, do your ‘thing’, just don’t forget those who wait for you.

Here’s to you, dear.