art, introspection, pain, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality

Naive Wishes

Paint me with naive wishes 

They are the only ones worth having 

Haven’t learned fear 

Haven’t known failure 

Still have the time to prove 

Paint me with with naive hope 

That has every reason to go on forever 

Doesn’t need to be realistic

Doesn’t feel pressured to be responsible 

Young enough to know no limits

Paint me with naive love 

That blooms in every young soul 




In the face of every sad love song

introspection, nature, pain, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality

Whimsy Heart

Plead with me 

One more is meant to be with me 

But only if he’ll see in me 

What I may see in him 

There’s too much here to give 

And I will give it all away 

Far too fast 

And they will leave with me 

Swimming in their past 

See I can’t hold it back 

Like how they all tell me to 

For all my whimsy heart is full of dance 

And life to give for you

introspection, pain, philosophy, Politics, Uncategorized

A Valid Voice

Don’t be afraid of being wrong, be afraid of living life without a voice.

Conversation and debate is tricky. There are usually an intense amount of emotions present in intellectual discussion, which warps everything out of control. It makes having a truly enriching discussion very evasive. I filter what I say, and even what I think, based on the perceptions of others and the mainstream. I think more people do this than would readily admit, again, because therer is an ego to protect. In my life I have been domineered into subscribing to points of view politically, religiously, and in every opinionated category that exists. The way our beliefs shape up are largely based on how the environment around us shapes us.

My point with all this is not to tell people not to have an ego. You just can’t abandon your ego. Pride drives people, and it drives me. What I’m saying is, that I want to be in the conversation. I don’t mean just talking about things, I mean, I want to formulate my own opinions instead of regurgitating others’. I want to use my voice, and I cannot use my own voice if I do not have my own thoughts.

What I’m saying is, I’m okay with being wrong. I want to hear why I’m wrong. I want to change and grow, and I want to be challenged. I am okay with being disagreed with. I am okay with being devalued based on an opinion. What I don’t want is to not have an opinion. I have to have a voice.

art, introspection, philosophy, spirituality, Uncategorized


I am
And then I immediately am not
I am everything I can be
I am, a possibility

art, introspection, Uncategorized


I am a paradigm
Broken from static
My light cracks like a prism
And is broken from my labored sleep
I let myself be liminal
I let myself arrive
Swift synthetic release
My authentic peace
I am on
And compelled with myself
Slipping coats and facades
I am clear like water
I am the steel iron in a straight silver pipe
I am the place I am always trying to be

art, introspection, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized


When I consider all I’ve done
It weighs in with depth
Some sweet, somber feeling
Rises in my chest
I feel swathed in nostalgia
Time stretches, in a lapse
And overwhelmed I breathe
And linger on this dream
My life views like a stairwell
That traipses, wanders, walks
Without pattern, I am sketched
And hollow all throughout
But it fills me up, when I am here
And sifting through my memory
When I consider all I’ve done
It weighs in deep reminicing

Art credit: Briana Baxter

art, introspection, philosophy, Poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized

The Dreaming Age

Sometimes something special reminds me what it’s like to dream again. And it’s like this hidden emotion that gets forgotten until something lights it up. And I see it as clearly as I did when I was younger, and simpler, and when things were much more magical. And it overcomes me. I don’t have to work for it. The dream just comes back to me. And that is more poetic to me than anything I can explain.

I think those kinds of dreams happen in that intricate time when we are changing from children into adults. I think that at some special youthful interval we get a chance to be overwhelmingly complex and fearlessly hopeful. I would dream so deeply then. My dreams tend to be more technical now, and less beautiful, and less like dreams and more like goals. Without the magic and without the hope of undamaged youth. But sometimes I hear a special song and it takes me back, and I feel more like myself than ever before.