The Beach

The Wind whistles through the waves as the sand gleams of the sun.
The air is fresh, the mind is clear and the soul is quietly singing a
song of freedom.
Here is the beach; that consequence of two opposites existing side by
side, so that they can not even be opposed. Completely similar, yet
infinetly unmeetable, the waves claw at the land, and the land cries
out: giving in.
Lost in a moment of time, society's anxieties melt into the sea.
Piece of mind is gained with a new breath of fresh air. Serenity is
found in the hearts of the free, the sun set in the west creating a
transcending feeling of the sublime.
Night falls, as it will, and only the stars come out. The music of
the waves' lap at land greets the uncountable's entrance on the sky
stage. All the twinkling tears alight this scene of strange unchange.
The stillness of nightfall speaks to the poets heart. He finds
himself singing his beautiful dream to the stars above. The mood of
the landscape inspires him true.
For this is truth. Nothing lies on this beach that is not coming
from and returning to the sea--endlessly.

The Journey

I am the road.
I stretch out before me and blindly behind. I am parted through wet
woods, burning away towards tomorrow.
I care not for yesterday for it is gone, I take my experiences to my
next destination so I may live in the moment for today. My personal
possesions are all I have, a bag on my back and boots on my feet. I'm
weary from the road my mind is tired but I know I must move on.
I let my thumb fuck the air. Endless pairs of sunglasses pass by
with no sight. I plead with myself to create the holy ride to come
pick me up and take me. Please make her cute and young and wheeling;
make her go my way too fast; let her put me up with her and her mom
at some trailer-town-pit-stop for one holy night.
Then move on to a jazzy bar where live music is playing. A little
melody to stroke my beat up soul into a drunken haze of beautiful
song.
Making music with life's raw notation--my actions pushing time over
into rolling balls all bloodstained with blown blisters--footing my
fortune and coasting coast to coast.
The winds of change bring me to
where I was born, I feel battered and bruised so I rest my mind. I
wake up refreshed, so I move on: forgetting my past, ready for my day.

Ben and Tris

PEACE - Tristan