poem

Where Are We?

In this flesh of a man, a prism of complexity, spinning in wild existence
in dominance of every attribute,
constructing emotion
to devour the lives surrounding.
The raging battle,
in competitive survival
stacked and positioned
inventive of every new-age stage to marvel.
Even the purity of love,
used and sharpened,
as a spear tearing through all in its path.

The consequences of my being sets this rage internal,
pulling apart every layer of skin I’ve masked.
The walls of ego stripped bare, shredded,
until nothing remains,
not even a tongue for speaking,
or a sense of the self ever worth fighting for.

Where did my essence go?
Was it attached at the teet, at the yearning for life…
Has the reflections of the World sapped over my seed,
Infinitely generating a Modern Man of the time.
Where is credit due, or even deserved?
I am not the language I speak, or even the thoughts so deceivingly portrayed as my own.
I am the culmination of a millennia… no, of all of existence, of all of Time,
folded and struck from the chaos of the cosmos, in the brilliance of light and life.
My sense of self dissolving before me, into this fabric, pulsing with ancient wisdom.
All of life speaks through my mouth – every howl, every whisper,
every dogmatic twinkle of my ancestral molecules beating to the drum of my own heart.

I suppose the march will continue, long after the chuckle of my flame, gasses away.
Where will the emotion leave me, when the clock pounds out the cursed blessing of endless life.
I simply can only repeat –
In this flesh of a man, a prison of complexity, spinning wild in existence.

Julien J. OReilly

Unspoken

A poem falls victim today
on the battleground of a swallowed tongue.
The remains of a severed word struggles to usher it’s final truth
before rolling to a stop among the cliffs
of a desolate and unforgiving land.
As others had fought here before,
emerging from tragic storms on the horizon,
they now had seemed to spring off the banks in vein,
searching for a meaning amongst the lemmings of such other beasts.
Their crimes were suited with their fate,
washed away upon the shores of a closed mind
and a broken ear,
never to collide
with the passing of a sailing vessel.
But these words today
were given no such chance
but instead lay gasping for air,
before finally slipping back into the darkened depths
from which they came.
Perhaps tomorrow the tale will be different
of a victory to sweep
and to be awash under wine and celebration
but until that day,
these soldiers shall stay in their quarters,
to pass their time,
before their final calling is spoken.

-Julien O’Reilly

*written in a bar*

In the eyes of the relationship. 

A reflection of turmoil. Longing for connection.

Unleash your self. Your essence. 

What else is there to live for. Why subject yourself to a painting of your true self.

It’s only a fabric, animation of who you are deep inside, who your parents knew when you first discovered the world. 

It’s okay to take down that sheath. Because we all have it. We’re all in the same cloth, 

just cut to fit our own interest. 

-Julien J. OReilly

Flight Delay

A sacred journey begins, taking flight across foreign lands, aboard whitened wing tips, Devine and steaming with blackened gold. A hundred hearts set sail, projected through this vortex of our time, and all I can think is, What’s the holdup? In our ancestral wake our impatience is glowing and pulsing with the Rythms of a continent’s creative propulsion. 

Mount Kilimenjaro’s finest sights overlooked through a peeping hole, zooming forth into a cloudy-flurry of ash. Solemn attitude and frown hold their gaze steady ahead, leaving their stationed bodies and naturalistic essence in the mist. 

Another fuel washes down the throats to satisfy a moment of pleasure, A rewarded distraction from the adventure of the journey. 

If we’ve forgotten the lessons from the present, what more can our speeding futures deliver us?

A regress from the nuisance of the modern mindset leaves me to appreciate the recognition of a powerful moment. Carry on in your endless searches, while I take in the beauty you so conveniently have missed. 

– Julien J OReilly

Open Ears

Don’t you forget.
The Limit of our existence.
Overcome with the desire to fill,
every ounce,
every space,
of our walled timeline.
Containment in just this fraction of a blink
in life,
or without life.
How much can one possibly burn,
and ignite,
set ablaze to melt beyond your skin’s reach
consuming an entire Island for one’s Deceptive Pleasures.
See with your Eyes, set within your Heart,
this Creature of Humanity,
expansive – across your toes,
folding in on itself,
in perpetual
motion,
devouring and blooming
in perfect stride.
See not,
the capsule of your own Flower,
but the Fields of an Orchard.
Leave your mark like water,
flowing to Creation and wonder,
a stream of seeping goodness in to the soil of time.

Have we not yet had our fill

In a life where the space between action and reward,
narrows to that of a cricket’s chirping, crackling, wings,
we’ve grown a Hunger
Larger than the Chew of our Bite.
Sew shut the muzzle of your cannons,
breathe life into words,
into Origin,
each World a class of its own,
to teach
and to learn.
Forever the Student
Forever the Teacher
of your own Wisdom.
Within those walls,
within those Capsules,
a way of blossoming – Unique to its own curse.
Never forget the time you have to live your stride,
set apart from those chains of monotony.
Your Story is Worth Telling,
and
I’m all ears.

– Julien J OReilly

Exhale

Compacted emotion,
solid ground now shaken loose,
with the cracks of age,

deep revelations suddenly awoken,
in a flash,
exploding outwards and up, up
away from the body of regret, a release, into nothingness.

In the mind, a tomb of spent dreams where shadows take form,
characters in a play,
What if, What for?

As the years ticked on, sipping down an ocean of drips, pushing down to another day,
another time.

Now the tide has gone away,
pulled by the setting reaper moon,
exposed skeletons of the possibility.

Delay, the fortune of youth,
Delay, the awakening in death.

– Julien J OReilly

In my skin

My ever faithful projection, sewed deep into my essence with pulsing ducts, red and spewing ideas into life.  

My thanks undying, as you carry out so diligently, to protect and to serve.  

In this human-craft, worthy of space travel, this vessel to our will, bends and glides through the permeable sea of a surrounding universe.

Effortless in my stride, as my gaze casts ahead to obstacles my own size.  In unison, do our battles rage; in my thousand egos of a thousand sons, and in your cursed creatures, multiplied in microcosm and hurtling against our webbing of glistening skin. 

On this forefront, dived deep, ever unknowing to our eyes, the war of timeless aggression, your protecting tirelessly until the 25th hour of our lives.  

With my bountiful breaths, I may share my appreciation – twirling magnificent and massive, among the other dazzling forms.  

In the gaping of smiles, under our burdens of leisure, the vastness, glowing, orb of mood set beneath the ballroom chandelier, I bow down to serve you!

So my plentiful existence may prove worthy to your selfless efforts, and keep me upright, and even, in my meandering mind.

-Julien J. O’Reilly

Synapse

A connection in space
only determined by rudimentary means of communication.
Through our words do we relate,
and as our minds mingle amongst the labyrinth of our language
deeper within meaning,
there is a separation that we strive to narrow
to make this connection real.
As two distinct beings, with no concrete means to portray our differences
we want to unite
and feel what others feel.
Each alone, struggling with a complexity of a life
reaching outwards
towards another
hoping for an answer to fill this void
as our hearts seek another
as it was once connected
in the womb
as continuously it searches.

-Julien O’Reilly

Childlike Immortality – a take on the California wildfires

A hunger never ceases, licking its way across unbroken fields of loves, consuming thine essence and spewing out forth – nothing more than smoke and ashes.  Lay waste, to the colorful beauty and, in vain – shine brighter than the nearest sun (whose form you take!)

The innocence of your youth, whirling and dancing playful in heart, unmirrored in your presence, and lonely – in your realm…

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