Standstill Muse

oh the bounds of inspiration that bloom out of the depths of despair

moving by volition 

bursting at the seems with a plurality of contradictions

the fall air rolls down my spin as the moonlight drains into my eyes

i am struck with an epiphany of life light and love

blindsided by a symphony of thoughts stars and peace

the standstill muse has found me again got my mind and my hearin a sea of gridlock

i am overwhelmed with dreams but my low self-esteem has ravaged my hopes i just scavenge the tropes that once fell in line

all the movement inside 


i am stuck

lost in your eyes

Dream Beyond 2017


Paper Telescope 

Formed from inginuity,

Forged in imagination,

A vessel of special interactions,

To construct and display images rarely seen by men. 

A view of the heart,

A picture of the soul,

Panoramas of pure poetry skirting  across the sky. 

Once our hearts are released they take to the sky. 

So every night, 

As I take out my delicate telescope,

I feast upon paintings of love,

Displays of devotion across the heavens.

Dreams and tears collide,

With sights beyond measure.

At every dawn the map is folded away,

Leaving our paper telescopes to trace the pathways forged in darkness by the illumination of our hearts. 

Every day is a journey. 

Every night an adventure. 

I left my heart in the stars,

So that’s where you’ll find me. 

Copyright Dream Beyond 2017


“Trees bring life. Nature naturally takes it.” – anonymous

I’m just taking my time, No need to rush. 

I’m just taking my time, why make such a fuss?

Am I taking my time or am I letting my time be taken?

When we take our time are we doing what we say we are?

Are we dreaming?

Are we living?

Are we using what we have?

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 

How often do we throw away second, minutes, days?

How often do we cast away our dreams, destroy our goals, and forget our personal expectations?

Live and dream!

Full and free!

Bring yourself to your path,

Walk straight down it. 

Walk straight up it. 

Life can be a vertical wall,

Or a mountain too tall,

Or an ant hill so small.

But, we find obstacles in life,

Hurdles of strife,

Dancing with a knife.

Is the challenge really the challenge or are we challenged by the challenge we call life?

If we are burdened with strife as we pass through life are we not destroying our time?





We have a epidemic in the world,

There is a truth we must behold. 

The strongest minds with the biggest hearts,

We’re meant to hold other in our arms,

We must show the vision of things to come,

To dream a dream that cannot be undone. 

Take your time, please.

But don’t waste your time. 

It’s gone, like dust in the breeze. 

Let’s use time,

Let’s work fine,

And let’s make our lives a sign. 

For this world to see,

For others,

To dream. 


All good things come in threes,

Or is it trees?

Maybe it’s free?

Am I free?

Or am I stuck in the tree?

Warmer seasons bring blossoms and fruit,

But this is a darker season approaches with sadness and gloom. 

I dreamed of three. 

I dreamed of thee. 

I dreamed of everything we could be. 

Don’t call it wishful thoughts. 

Don’t call it mindless singing. 

Don’t call it day dreaming. 

No dream can dream day and night. 

No man can fight of the night. 

No human can always be the light. 

There was something. 

There could’ve everything. 

There is nothing. 

I know I know, don’t live off of should’ve of’s, could’ve’s, instead of did. 

I know I know, don’t get too lost in the dreams. 

I know. 

I know. 

Don’t pretend like those dreams were what was going to be. 

All good things come in threes,

If all there were was dreams,

If all we were was a breeze,

If all that preceded was that, what have I to appease. 

I’m just a leaf on trees. 

Waiting for fall to come so I can leave.

I’m just the tree and we are the leaves. 

Waiting for fall to come so you can leave. 

I’m just the ground, the earth the sky.

And your just the tree, waving in the wind,

Saying goodbye. 

As I float through dipping temperatures and stranded nights,

I am deposited far from where I was,

Where I had grown to be,

Where I had dreamed of being.

As I sway in the brisk dark night,

I see the warm smiling moon,

Where we had looked upon,

Where we had dreamed of,

Where we had went. 

As I see the fall descend,

I see what they call your beauty begin to end.

Where beauty comes from,

Where goodness comes from,

Where trueness comes from,

None of that ends. 

It comes and goes,

In cycles,

In threes,

In the purest trees.

Just because you’ve seen my leaf,

Just because you’ve written off my tree,

Just because you deny my existence,

Doesn’t me there never was a we. 

All good things come in threes


All of us, three. 

Copyright Dream Beyond 2017

One Mississippi…

The pitch black nights are the hours filled will the most vibrant and outstanding objects. 

The bleakest morning are those that encompass the pinnacles of excitement.

The most painful moments are the ones laden with the deepest volumes of beauty. 

Each passing day, each shifting hour, each itching moment,

…One Mississippi…

…Take a deep breath…

…Pause a moment and take in what is around you…



Surrounding your soul.

The only reason nights lack light, a lack of presence of observed by your eyes,

The singular logic for mornings having bleakness and a sense of loneliness,

The one way the most hurting times of life mature into something beautiful…

Nothing is as it seems.

Or as they appear to be. 

Stop looking at the surface,

Start looking beneath.

Halt yourself from making assumptions,

Begin to make observations. 

…Two Mississippi…

…Exhale deeply…

…Go back to the one thing in your surrounding that caught your eye…

It’s a perception issue,

A delay in deduction,

A misfire in interpretation.

Alas, freeze your frame,

Put a moratorium on those thoughts,

So much as to the venture of thinking in which you were progressing. 

…three Mississippi…

The end lies here. 

You’ve tracked a path all the way to here. 

Where is here?


That reason, 

For darkness, bleakness, pain…

Life, in its most simple attributes,

Is a series of moments strung together in a narrative that we label as our own. 

Each picture, each pause, 

Is a blank canvas,

Leaving you to make beauty out of everything.

That my fellow dreamer is the magnitude of dreaming. 

Don’t leave your symphonies, your novels, without embellishing them,

Without making them your own. 

You are the dreamer, the architect, the perpetrator of innovations in this awe inspiring play.

Your dreams are your paintbrush,

Now is your time to make those lines. 

Copyright Dream Beyond 2017