21DEC09

little moth
navigate by the moon
glowing
i have a computer screen
glowing
you found it,
my artificial moon
radiating human pollution
distracting though you are
have you found happiness
having reached the glow?

...

I have folded myself into the mold left by others, soggy cardboard strips stuck to my naked form. And then I've bent my head backwards in order to catch a brief glimpse of the stars, as if they hold some sort of meaning for me. What comes next I know not. So I try to sigh with content as my bones begin to ache, it is a contrast between satisfaction and the pain of holding a shape. If I were to release would my true form be revealed? And would it be good? I have found comfort here. I will keep this position for a while, and stretch my neck from time to time and try to lick those stars in good order. The light has come. Burn brightly, sweet flickering lights.

I.K. Estbon

08DEC09

we turn, we turn&watch how we burn
away all the hours

night after night the cat-call-fights

you went away
and i
touch-up my
face

i will soon make-step to follow

and break away
till i
flutter-by
again

here i will be
dreaming the dreamy
dreams
(with you once again)

...

worthless, worthless, worthless...

and now i am worth less...

I.K. Estbon

...

There is joy...

...

In a quote by John Fogerty he recalled Credence's time at Woodstock saying that they were playing to half a million sleeping bodies for their 3am time slot... Yet he recalled a guy flicking a lighter on the hill and hearing the words "Don't worry about it John. We're with you." He said that he played the rest of the show for that guy...

Maybe that's how I feel so often, in a place where all around me I see sleeping bodies, curled up, twisted into shapes, indifferent... They see me of no consequence and I cannot stir them from their own worlds... Then I feel very alone... Until every so often I might squint into the distant night, thinking there could be something silhouetted against the sky, and I'll hear someone speak with their words telling me "Don't worry about it. We're with you."

Then I can't help but believe this to be a very beautiful existence after all...

...

I hate...
I hate...

I hate, and hate...
and I hate...

I hate,
I hate,
I hate...

but I hate when
I hate...

I hate
myself...

I.K. Estbon

...

Break open into voice and bursting lungs, breathe...

they will quake
The song will flow into some form of errupting rhythm, the turn
burst open, The song will carry
skies rise, night sings
The song finds air

Breathe...

do we reflect?
past regrets, and
worried spirits

Breathe...

Another flowing verse enchants
here it is

here it comes

here it goes
Another flowing verse departs

Breathe...

I.K. Estbon

...

From the ground I look up and wish to become a bird, yet what bird would I be?

There is enough to terrify me while my feet seem planted firmly...

I.K. Estbon

...

Here we find ourselves again, down this old road of thought... It always drags us down, not because it is attractive but because it is familiar up to a point... It feels like that old country path with the twisted gums and all that dust that flings up behind, it seems to smell of nostalgia and a strange mysterious familiarity... We'll never understand it completely but, like this feeling of being miserable, we're still drawn to it as if to suggest that one day we'll know this road... And then once we know it we'll be able to understand it... What an empty place that'll be, when we know exactly where this old road is leading us... Fortunately we'll never understand, we'll never know, we'll never see where it leads and what is waiting once it gets there... We always find a place to stop along the way or an open door somewhere beside it, which is a good thing as I suspect this is a better alternative than going down that old road... That old road of melancholy...

I.K. Estbon

11SEP09

dear dead and departed,

where have you sunk to?

we find our world is but a play of smoke and mirrors,

to where you have come to

it is you who are among us

leaving me begging what you have come to take from us

but you choose only to watch

the benevolent few left to wonder,

why you gaze at us with such pity

the dead and departed and the pitiful creatures with living to do

...

Let us discover great joy and sadness...

I.K. Estbon

...

Little head explosions...

Push me, change me
keep me guessing
will it be better to wake tomorrow?

I.K. Estbon

...

Judging people by what they say and/or do is dangerous unless you're prepared to judge yourself as well. Otherwise we'd discover very little.

I.K. Estbon

...

Spring comes, the winter a fading call...

We rock ourselves to sleep and wonder when the heat will come,
will we warm to it or feel cold and distant like before?

At night the mind searches
--and seeks
----tendernous
------from warmth

...

...

Having a relationship is like trying to have sex with yourself, if you could figure out how to make it work it might even feel pretty good...

I.K. Estbon

...

-->one day i went out wintering at sea and
i came across an albatross who seemed very lonely
------->so i simply flew on by
--->and didn't give it a second thought
----------->sometimes i hear the cries
------------------->of that lonely albatross...

...

I looked around me and saw the most beautiful fields of blue and green stretch out into vast distances... They were both vegetable and liquid, flowing in swirls of colours, my mouth opened in disbelief and into it flowed a spaghetti strand of these colours all mixed together and bursting with freshness...

I gulped wildly, this was wonderful, I seemingly ate my way through a wild frolic of long-haired joy-dance journey... The sky turned bright hues of orange mixed with purple while I broke my insecurities with satisfied bites of brilliance...

There was happiness and joy out in those fields...

I.K. Estbon

...

...

Potential discovery through an emerging relationship creates lingering thoughts in searching for someone to be there to comfort my solitude and yet I realise our journey progresses juxtaposed as a slow climb and a gradual descent

...

The allure of the unknown, perhaps it seems greater in the mind...

Can reality reflect imagination?

I.K. Estbon

...

Light, light
torch of my path
twist and turn upon
the little path

Here I am dreaming
of stars in the heavens
while my twisted path
turns within them

I.K. Estbon

...

To go to a place where there are no words...

To feel...

I.K. Estbon

...

How it has happened, lesser to the master of logic

these moments given
are to be taken
as moments of wonder

...

Is this a moment for happiness...?

...

Grinding teeth while rain slowly washes away familiarities...

Bright future, mocking blow...

I.K. Estbon

...

I look and I see, when I turn and I look, I look and I see, when I turn and I look,

there you are, you are there with me...

I.K. Estbon

...

Always moving forward, why are we so keen to leave the past behind?

Is our journey a slow climb or a gradual descent?

Shall I make this move towards progress, or will the nature of the past reveal itself in the future...? Those choosing to sit and wait patiently have made their time to mock the others rushing with blind reason... Does the journey take time to unfold or is it violent in its self-destruction?

I.K. Estbon

...

26JUL09

Here comes a tale from the heart

never quite alone yet sitting apart

beating patiently for a tedious mind

not quite friendly but never unkind

burning thoughts into a broken soul

words that run freely and others that crawl

22JUL09

Remember numb-mumbled talk,
breaking open silent tapestry
seeking to forget
the past, and yet
finding memories buried in history

Remember days standing by a shore,
forged in sunlight crisp air
perceiving the calm
sense it disarms
a tangled web nostalgia-created hair

Remember gazing star-studded sky,
bursting brightness breaking blindly.
Onto a held gaze
swallowing days
when recalled history weaves inside of me.

20JUL09

Through the fog we can see
the shoreline and the trees

softly, softly now we tread
eyes wide heart with dread

what has past and is to come
search alone, find everyone

...

...

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,fuyck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fukc, fuck fuck, fuck fukc,ufukc ,fuck fukc,ufkc, ufkc,ufkc,ufck,fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck ufuck,fuck fuck,fuck fuck, fuck,fuck fuck,fuck fuck, fuck,fuck fuck, fuck,fuck,fuck fuck,fuck fuck,fuck fuck, fuck, fuck,fuck fuck fuck,fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fuck,fuck fuck,fuc fuck fuck, fuck fuck,fuck fuck,ufck fuck, fuck fuck,u fck fuck, fuck, fuck , fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, fuck ufcuk, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck, fuck fuck, fuck,,

What I remember is not what I seem to remember...

I.K. Estbon

...

There are beautiful things...

Yet
--it
----remains
------to
--------be
----------seen

Whether the peace of nature will strike...

I.K. Estbon

10JUL09

luminous pillow through shuttered eyes
memories sweeping dream-like reality
sunken beneath the flesh still burning
hope created by eternal yearning

...

This world is too confusing, almost as if I'm detached from it...

Perhaps it is time to explore the unknown world, the places where I have little understanding... There is nothing I understand of this place.

Can there be any solution to disconnection?

I.K. Estbon

...

End this day and bring the morning.
It can shine and guide the day.

Darkness falls in curtains.

I.K. Estbon

...

Death comes eventually, or it finds us earlier...

I.K. Estbon

...

...

Can the haze ever disappear?

Are we left to walk blindly through the fog till we can no longer see the road...

Does the road disappear or do we?

I.K. Estbon

...

...

22JUN09

the senses awaken
dotted trees
cars drive by
mechanical disease

birds give morning greetings
through the trees
clouds roll in
carried by distant seas

the call of the daybreak
brings the sun
start the search
in finding everyone


I.K. Estbon

...

Seek the connection, the bond that will help you find yourself...

I.K. Estbon

...

17JUN09

sun peaking through the trees,
little wisps of light
stroke me with your tendrils

break rhythm into head
burst open into skull
the thoughts of swaying with the trees
the light watching over all

and I sigh, I sigh
never to be no more
when music carried us into the trees
it brought us to lights door

16JUN09

run away freely
look at ourselves no more
we can make it to the horizon
right on heaven’s door

gates wide, outstretched
welcoming
we will fall before them
exhausted

our time
runs away freely
the last morning spent
lying in the sun
we had so many dreams then
the hope that we would never
be taken away

it came for us
not with malice,
but with reality
the time for us
to be no more
it violently shook us from our dreams
till they became an echo of the past
we took off for the horizon
this day to be our last

so we find ourselves running
our hearts beating
minds racing
thoughts pounding
the sound of our breathing
can we go on?

what fate will reach us?
there is a question
that stretches out into
the horizon to which
we’re always running

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

It seems disturbing that we can be judged on a single action taken throughout the course of our lives. This has the power to take the focus away from all the events that led up to the action. For example, a person who murders or commits suicide may be judged on that one final act, the ultimate event. Yet this may detract from all the events that led to it. There could have been moments of great kindness or happiness, of selfless undertaking, where good can be found within something that seems bad to others. Perhaps it is of less importance to highlight the final result when there is so much more insight to be found in what took place before it.

I.K. Estbon

...

Chaotic circles weave
where we can be uplifted and then fall

I.K. Estbon

...

When the sleep comes they will dream...

I.K. Estbon

...

Rise and fall,
we will toil
and then wait for the day,
when problems are meaningless...

I.K. Estbon

...

does anyone still remember what we remembered when we used to remember...?

I.K. Estbon

...

Light, light.

carry me into

Night, night.

I.K. Estbon

...

When you just crumble in your head with the realisation that time is ebbing away and the sands are sifting through your hands while you helplessly watch in apathetic melancholy, then you know more than ever that moments are not to be wasted away into absent dreaming and pointless memories...

All you have is what you're given and all you keep is what you create, there is nothing special about what you will do... It is only a privileged illusion, take it and do with it what you will... Living is suicide.

...Living is suicide.

... ...Living is suicide.

... ... ...Living is suicide.

... ... ... ...Living is suicide.

I.K. Estbon

...

The dreams they come. They shatter.

Break apart the pining,
the images unwinding.

Ah, those fanciful dreams.

I.K. Estbon

...

3am

3am

3am

3am

3am

3am, 3am

3am

3am, 3am

3am, 3am

3:01

I.K. Estbon

...

Why do I continue to weave the words of deceit?

Am I to wait for a day of retribution?

Or can the past be renewed by the future?

I.K. Estbon

...

Feasting on false realities.
The waking, the wake, the time. Passes.

Don't hide, reveal.
The truth is hard to face.

I.K. Estbon

...

slept under stars

I.K. Estbon

...

Run, run, run...

Living is suicide.
Living is suicide.

I.K. Estbon

...

land of a million elephants.
connect.
dis a ppear

shine on
in the sky

I.K. Estbon

...

When you run, you don't run you walk.

When you walk you hardly move at all.

I.K. Estbon

27APR09

These words, they fall.
Tumbling. Falling.
Away, they spin (end over end)
to depart and sink.
The deep. Darkness.

We say. We forget.
In time.

I.K. Estbon

...

Ahhh, yes. Life it captures us for a short time.

I.K. Estbon

...

History passing us by, look behind when we look ahead...

I.K. Estbon

...

Enter a life of past regrets.

She stares and whispers while you whimper.

The thoughts turning. Minds to rot.

I.K. Estbon

...

Dream the dreams. May they return so you can dream them once more.

Go to sleep, rest now and float away.

Dream the dreams.

I.K. Estbon

...

Where can we go from here?

It seems rediculous the future that lies ahead of us. It is almost as if there is little future left at times.

Where can we go from here?

I.K. Estbon

07APR09

The static hum, the static hiss.
The shriek, the calling.
The anger surrounding, the anger within.
Finally falling.

The broken screams, a simple cry.
Pleasure receding.
Drumming the voice's beating, the pulse within.
The sound of grieving.

I.K. Estbon

...

Depart from safely concealed shores into unexplored.

You can make it happen.

I.K. Estbon

...

Their words are so powerful, what hope we have is but frail and timid.

I.K. Estbon

...

It comes with a beginning, and with that a future.

And then there's what remains.

Who knows where this will be taken, what unknown paths of consciousness it will tread. There is but one journey and so many things to experience.

I.K. Estbon

Does the sun still shine the same way...?
Does it sit there and wait for you patiently to react to your day...?
When everything seems out of place and out of time what is left to
reel you into line...?

And who is to decide what colour the world will appear in today...?
Whether it is a deep morose of blues and greens or the brightest
yellow and orange... Who is to say whether those castles burning on
the horizon will affect us...? The flames seem so distant and sullen,
it is hard to imagine that they could ever have burned so fierce and
brightly in our direction...

We sail on a sea of memory...