No one can love you

from the depths

that I can love you.

No one can know you

the way that I know

because I have seen

inside of you like a dream.

I can feel your tears

whether or not they fall

in every part of my being.

I’ll go on choosing you

even if it takes lifetimes

for my heart to reach you.

I have a will of my own

and a soul full of miracles.

Together we will ascend

like feathers in the wind.

I want to lie down

in your arms.

I want to lie down

against your naked body

and fall asleep to the sound

of your breath

like a whisper in a shell.

I want your hands

to rearrange everything

inside of me.

I know you feel the same

because I feel you.

I can feel your dreams

slipping into me

and your lips

laying invisible blueprints

over my skin.

You are the only one

who can find me.

The only one who can see

what lies behind the stars 

and if you want

you can bury your secrets

in me like a key inside a stone.

I am your home.

Give me your hand,

the cards you hold

close to your vest.

The two and the three.

Together we could be


Together we are

the universe.


A Drop in the Ocean

I am the universe playing tricks on itself.

I am the microcosm and the macrocosm.

When faced with my former enormity

I am but a snag in the fabric and yet

Within I still contain the entire tapestry.

On days like these when all I can do

Is contemplate my smallness

I forget my value and in forgetting, dim

Inadvertently my vision of the whole.

For energy there can only be life.

What is murder to the rain likewise

Necessitates it. We are but seeds,

Potentialities sheathed in a porous husk.

What lurks underneath no one knows.

The need to be born is apparent in all of us.

We want to know, to return to our nature

But it is in our nature to explore. In the end

The game, the pieces, and the strategy

Are none other than the player himself.


I may come back to the other challenge 2 lies and a truth but I only just revealed a tremendous amount about myself and so it wouldn’t be so easy to lie to you now lol


I circle the room three times

I would sleep but there is never

Sufficient reason.

Who would shoulder my burden?

The queer exasperated notes

That hitch in my throat

As if it were a sieve.

I gift riddles wherever I go.


An open mouth attracts scavengers

And I’ve died more times

Than there are stars to grieve.

The sky ought to be blank

But it never is, however, thick

The vestments sewn

To abdicate its features.


I am beautiful

The universe created me

And I could not be otherwise.

Even a mistake can provide

Sufficient impetus

For the evolutions that follow.

Who could look at me

And say that I am not as intended

When they are not even

Conscious of their own designs?

Tale Weaver Prompt #3 Making Sense of the Nonsense (and a note for photographers)

He called himself a Grezzle

Though no one knew

What the appellation implied.

Was it an endearment from youth?

Did it indicate his rank or station?

Was it a gang sentiment or warning?

Was it nonsense or the abbreviation

Of an equally improbable brand?


I could discern nothing in the vacuum

That had absolved him entirely from sight

And I suspect the nothingness

Ran deep for his smile too was empty

A basin, a scoop, queerly toothless.

Whatever may be gleaned from his omissions

He suffered no infirmary.

His thoughts were voluminous

Beyond our petty human musings.

I found myself fumbling

Within his scarred orifices

Infinite and minute

He became an object of great fascination

Like a local quarry or a derelict house.


I suspect he was not a man

An alien, a demon, a quasi god perhaps

But no man ever lived such as this.

A Grezzle may well have been a sentient

As of yet unrecorded.

He lived amongst us

Curiously, in his corner house

Arranged with doll-like fragility.

He never sat in those timid chairs

Or laid in his well-dressed bed

He didn’t even bother to disguise

The plastic fruit

The neat rows of unused china cups

The gape-mouthed closets

That held not a stitch.


I believe the only object

For which he had any use

Were the books

But he did not read them

He opened his great round mouth

And swallowed them whole.

Then to our amusement

He’d recite the entirety of them

Male or female, young or old

He could become anyone

And had he access to our diaries

He might well have taken our souls.


I think I may have loved him

To look into that mouth, like a universe

I felt things more immense

Than the heart set to contain them

I knew things that words cease to mention

Though not for want of trying.

His jaw and nose were perfect

The thick hair that never wholly settled

The great height and the athletic form

The patient eyelids forever pressed

And those lips behind which nothing

And everything was simultaneously glimpsed

There is no doubt that he saw me,

Every molecule

Even my nonsense must have meant

A good deal more to him than it did to me

For he always took the time unravel it.


We made a monument for him,

A great black obelisk

Which stood outside

The now gutted library

On the day he disappeared

(and he really did right in the middle of tea

his unfilled cup the very last implication

Of his occupancy)

Instead of flowers, sheaths of paper

Of poems and cockeyed manuscripts

From the grandest to the most feeble

Of our literary attempts

And though we never saw him again

I suspect he saw us quite clearly

For every page was seized by morning.


This character is influenced somewhat by a character called O in Planescape Torment but I put my own spin on it. I love creating characters and couldn’t resist using Grezzle as a name XD





If you are willing to share your photos for inspiration and use at my writing group Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie please  contact me either by email or in the comments below. We will give credit and link up to your site(s). If you have any additional stipulations or requests please explain in your message.

Stand up

andyvanoverberghe_circlesofquanta7_thecycle_by_andyvanoverberghe-d6nmja0She is a call to heaven

The darkness around which

Stars are posthumously hung


My clay feet know

Both earth and sea

But the sky aspires

Higher and higher

With every extension


With my vertebrae

Horizontally stacked

I could go on forever

For a circle ends

Exactly as it begins

But if vertical,

I will undoubtedly fall

(I stand up

In spite of fear)


I carry you in silence

For it is through silence

That melody is relayed


My pulse struggles

Under the pressure

Of our overlapping breaths

Together we are imperishable

For no wrath exists

That can dissolve regard


zipperIf I were a planet

I’d have a hollow core

Crepuscular in odyssey

I’d drift aimlessly

Ricocheting against

Invisible labyrinths

No matter how

Fastidious the design

Fate always bends

Toward entropy


If I were a landscape

I’d have a muddied surface

From hoards of unshod feet

Trampling my potential

Into self-serving affectations

Impatience and convenience

Always trump conservation


If I were a house

I’d be uninhabited

Save for death

Which preys

Even as it sows

Transience being


In its undertaking


If I were a man

Praise would not terminate

My sense of omission

I’d hunt egregiously

From stolen parcels

And assign contrast

I am good


Other is bad

The Transcendent Order (snippets)

making zen Wallpaper__yvt2


What is happiness to the savage

Who knows naught but being?

To the savage

Who does not question his purpose

But lives each moment

As if it were singular, sacred



A man who understands

The worth of his life

Is a man who does not question

The worth of his being

Because his hands and heart

Are sincere in their occupations



Do not speak of becoming

Do not speak wastefully

Act only as your soul compels



By our very composition

We belong

Elemental, inseparable,

We our not isolated

Within an unsparing universe

We are as one


I have been down on myself lately so I thought I could use a little philosophy. This comes to you from The Transcendent Order, it is one of the philosophical factions in Planescape Torment, I get the impression that the beliefs are much derived from  Zen Buddhism and Taoism. I am compelled to write and I feel that it is my purpose though I have so much doubt about my ability, Putting those doubts aside I am just going to write as my soul compels lol Maybe my writing will touch another person someday =)  I love philosophy haha



Let society retrogress deranged as

The feral wings of a fossilized bird,

I just want to be primitive, mortal

Painted in clay and calcite, half

Undressed, dread-locked, and vital

To the universal infrastructure


Unplugged from the android collective

I want to exist in a time where demons

Stand, not behind a mantel of human flesh

But outside of a simple ring of salt, in a

Time measured by the saturation of the sky

And the vertical momentum of lupine-dwelling

Meadows. I want my heart to be the place

Most visited and the rains to absolve sin

By the cleansing of pollutions that never

Penetrate the core or harden over the face

Like the maniacal funhouse masks of pretend


I want to be innocent, holy cradled by the

Chesire grin of an impartial moon, in shades

Of grey where the sentient inherently lay. I

Want to be imperfect, to fail blessed by the

Chance to try again. In this heathen temple

Shaped by the deeds of my own hands close

To the mother of ten thousand things I want

To scream on my deathbed that I have lived

Book of the Dead

Did I allow an affinity for suffering

To calcify or mitigate?


Will I hunger indefinitely

Like a ravaged ghost?

Or will I find in death

Both coherence and communion?

A soul subservient

To neither Mara nor ID

A soul free of preference

And illusion


All these faces

I have worn

Both monster and God

They are but incarnations

Of the same entity


If in the path of delirium

I come to know

My Buddha nature

Will I banish all construct

And reemerge divine?


I painted this picture of the after life