birra's Journal

birra's Journal


Honor: 13    [ Give / Take ]


9 entries this month

In the mask of the sun...

16:01 Oct 28 2008
Times Read: 886

Somewhere between

The neon lights

Shinning so bright

On a hot autumn night

And the cold ocean waves

Under the palms so tall

In the prickling heat

Of the beach sand at my feet

I have found this

A feeling of longing

But never belonging

A feeling of comfort

Within an abyss of loneliness

Behind the memories

A new start

A new life

Twice tasted

But never lasting

A day of fulfillment

Towed beneath the crashing surf

A feeling

The first time

My calling

Lost is that day

With the voice of the gulls

On the past ocean gales

A moment in time

Vibrations quickly set to motion

And more quickly gone by


That feeling of comfort

Once found

In the sparkling sands

But for the moment

The ocean scent

The warm autumn breeze

The cold waves

The call of the gulls

Returns it to me

My lover’s kiss

The sweetest relief

The brief sense of belonging

Happiness for rent

Not meant to possess

But to strive to possess it

Like the fool

Chasing a fountain of youth

I will seek

I will search

I will work

To my dying day

For an unreachable goal

Made to seem possible

By the cold waves

And silken sand

Molding around my feet

A sky filled

With the soaring birds

And sails on the horizon

A false sense of hope

This lover’s kiss

Was never there

This land never was

Where I would find my future

It never was

Where my dreams reside

It is the illusion

The ocean’s mirage

The endless horizons

Making all things seem possible

When in the memories

I see more clearly

Again and again

How the ocean lies




Drifting letters to no one...

17:38 Oct 14 2008
Times Read: 920

In the shadows

A dim illumination

I rest among

The unwanted


The wind blows over

My crumpled form

And lifts me

Ever so slightly

Just enough to drag me

Further across

The rough pavement

Scarring my skin

Drawing my blood

Taking my sacrifices

With such little in return

A breeze

I hope

I rise

I drag

I am scarred again



12:08 Oct 15 2008

This is a really good piece IMO. TO me it talks about the struggle of just being. Really good, thanks for this.

03:18 Oct 16 2008

It seems everything you write leaves me holding my breath until the end. Then there's this deep sigh of awe. Your writing never ceases to move and inspire me. I only wish I had the mastery of symbolism which you have so eloquently created time and time again.

17:07 Oct 28 2008

"The unwanted... discarded", it's like looking in a mirror. For some, it's temporary.


Letting go...

08:05 Oct 14 2008
Times Read: 935

Within my hazy sight

A young man was I

On the shore of a pond

Blissfully surrounded

By cottonwood seeds

Drifting lazy on the breeze

In the springtime air

The willows wind-chime leaves

Sang their ancient song

And the cicadas call

From everywhere

An old rope swings

From a mighty branch

In a cottonwood

Over time

Reaching out to the pond

To the water that beckons

To the trees and birds

And the dragonflies hunting

Skimming over the water

Dancing with the sun light

On the reflecting water

Broken only by the

Bullfrog’s wake

And in the heat of the day

My ears rang with the songs

Of the pond

And on the breeze I could hear

Your voice


“Come dance with me

Take my hand

Swing with me to the water

Escape this heat

And the mosquito’s stinging bite

In the cool water

You will find me


With the pleasure of our youth”

And before me I see

Your hand extending

A finger curling

Come hither


Take this rope

Take this leap

To the golden water

Before you

I run

Over the dusty path

The easy path

Beaten down by the feet

Of the many who sought

Your comfort

Your companionship

The solution to this mystery

As all the others

I run this same path

Not the mossy ground

Full of roots and vines

Waiting to slow my way

And trip me before

I can reach you

And your blessings

In the water

Where I know

You will be my savior

I leap

Arms extended

And hands wide open

Grasping for your hand

To take mine

The rope that swings

Gripping it tight

Feeling the wind rush

Through my hair

Over my ears

Drowning the sounds of the day

With the hum of this motion

But not your voice

Your voice rings clear

“Let go…”

You say it again

“It’s time to let go…”

And I believe

I want to believe

That you will catch me

Softly in the cool water

As the rope slows

And the travel of my swing ends

I hear your voice again

“Let go…”

I close my eyes

And push the rope away

My flight confirmed

The point of no return

I open my eyes

And hear your voice again

“Let go… I must let go…”

And the pond is not there

A stony ground waits below

And I see you

Standing on the bluff

Watching my fall

As I reach in vain

Extending my arms in a desperate plea

“Catch me!” I call to you

But you turn and walk away

I close my eyes

One last time


There will never be

Another pond

As sweet as this one was

And now

Only now I realize

Between the real

And the imaginary

And the reality

And the fantasy

The only thing left for me

Is letting go



14:49 Oct 14 2008

It reads like a dream I've had recently. Beautiful. Poignant.

16:57 Sep 19 2009

you are a very good writer :)


The end of BS...

19:07 Oct 13 2008
Times Read: 954

...at least for me.

One last peek to see how it ends. It's actually like one of those books you wish you could just turn to and read the ending first because you know the butler did it. There is no twist... the ending was clear. The hypocrisy and unwillingness to let it go - the double standards, the failure to see ones own actions and take ownership of them from the start. Didn't need a magic eight-ball to get this answer...

Yes, the end... it is here and long over-due. Really, from my view, the BS side was nothing more than a fad that went out of style quicker than pastel sport coats...

Moving on...



19:10 Oct 13 2008

Let's keep making fun of 80's music!! *hugs*

19:18 Oct 13 2008

Frankly, I'm just glad that I don't have you drive you to your irritable bowel support group meetings anymore.

*runs and hides*

19:27 Oct 13 2008



19:43 Oct 13 2008

Are you implying that I need to update my wardrobe again? I bought new clothes less than, what...25 years ago.


The ship in your bottle...

15:05 Oct 13 2008
Times Read: 970

Built delicately

Within a vessel

Forged from the heat

And the force

Of the Earth’s living core

Piece by piece

I have been intricately placed

Within these glass walls

To sit upon your mantle

Untouched by your hands

Only to study

Your eyes behind my glass

The far away look

I see

Always with the light

Bent by this glass

But at my flawed perfection

Still you wonder

Yet keeping your distance

Afraid to destroy my little world

Afraid to sail in mine

My hull will never

Feel the kiss of your oceans

My sails will never unfurl

To catch your breath

And give me life

Alone I sit

In quiet observation

Waiting for the day

You break the glass

To set me free

Or leave me

Dashed upon your hearth



15:51 Oct 13 2008

What can I say? Your writing becomes more and more provocative and your own unique voice is shining through until I could probably recognize your writing from scores of others. I am continually amazed by your work. Whether you believe me or not, this is something to be proud of, my sweet friend...it really is.

So often, I quote my favorite parts of an author's work and maybe explain why I feel that way. I went to highlight a section of this one and the highlighted section grew and grew because I didn't want to leave out sections that are so perfect, like the way you use the first person narrative, yet keep your metaphor of the ship so strong in the second half.

This poem could be published anywhere. You're amazing.

16:39 Oct 13 2008

Absolutely incredible....



05:43 Oct 09 2008
Times Read: 996

My body has become frail

In the weak attempts to salvage

My breath

My life

It holds me fast

In a never ending grip

It takes everything

From me

My feet succumb

Where you used to touch me

Tickle and hear my laughter

And my hands fall away

The hands that could

Savor your softness

And hold you close

Tempting you

Toward salvation

My legs perish in a blackened death

Once so alive

This sudden atrophy has left them

Unable to take action

To run to you as I want to

To run from you as I tell myself to

Arms loose and dangling

Without purpose or poise

They can no longer embrace you

With gentle strength

And hold you close

In the cold of the eve of winter

When the wind

Would bite our noses

And the snow

That became spring’s disguise

Tomorrow will cover me

And hide this deed from the world

Mouth agape and tongue protruding

The final kiss on your lips

Which you no longer desire

Leaving my broken skin

An empty hull

Scattered upon the mossy ground

Where we once made love

How I long for those days

Of innocence

The decadence

And how we danced

For the joys of life

And mingled our tears

With the fear of death

Craving that immortality

This body will never see



Voided of all

This life fading quickly

While the next lies ahead

I will submit to this battle

My most treacherous of foe

Only to rise again

Another day



12:43 Oct 09 2008

Raw, cool , sad. This has a very nice taste to it.


It’s not just abbreviated, B.S.

05:48 Oct 07 2008
Times Read: 1,028

But that is a perfect abbreviation for what I’ve found there.

Yay… someplace free and liberal enough to let your inner 3rd grader out. You must be like a kid in a candy store. You get to rant, and insult, and be crass and vulgar, and flex those internet muscles…

…oooohhhhh yeah, didn’t that feel good?



05:50 Oct 07 2008


Sorry about your e-car... I just flattened it. ^.^

05:51 Oct 07 2008

I blame the republicans...

14:27 Oct 07 2008

Appropriate for 8-year olds of all ages!



04:28 Oct 05 2008
Times Read: 1,033



Just for the record...

05:15 Oct 02 2008
Times Read: 1,058

...about my so-called poetry.

Some people ask me what it's about... what things I write about mean...

...some people just make assumptions.

It's art. Not all art is good for every person... just like anything else, the interpretation of my poetry is different for each person who reads it.

But... I caution you, the reader... while interpreting my words DO NOT make the mistake of assuming they refer to any one person in particular.

Regardless of what you know about me, my life and the company I keep here on VR...

I write for me. I write about my life... my life outside of VR is...

....personal. Complex and personal.

When you read me, just keep an open mind. I'm working at improving and a lot of what I do is simply to play with words, visions, metaphors... etc... whatever. It doesn't always have to be about someone.

Welcome to ROCKtober.



05:26 Oct 02 2008

Well said.

05:26 Oct 02 2008

I get the same thing..

05:43 Oct 02 2008


I just stay curious.

08:45 Oct 02 2008

I agree 250% with you my friend.

Life is complex...and most of all personal.

11:10 Oct 02 2008

Presumption is a recipe for confusion. Well stated my friend.

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