No words
No words
None will get hurt
Tag: prolific nonsense propagator
Sometimes What’s Lost Never Wants to be Found
Not here to instill a habit
More joy in you stumbling upon it
Pulling rabbits
Wide Open Spaces
(Originally written some 19 years ago, I guess I’m still writing it…)
So tired
and sleepless
Hours away
from home
Watching the world
run silent
In bridges that burn
Another Forced Wake Up
The 60’s music are blaring, celebrating, a captured moment
Of how unaware it was of the 70’s intent…
We are taught, if not nascent, layers of blankets, randomly spread and exhausted from last night’s bout to recharge, the answers soon will be found not by the winners but by the hopeful.
How the Race Found the Finish Line
I don’t know the chemistry of cures. The amount of persuasion the brain needs to swallow it whole. Assimilate to throwing darts in the dark against move the targets. Left to belief, because we all believe it.
Drum up a line. Shuffle this confusion. And find answers in the randomness, draw a convenient conclusion.
And then what? Lose myself from what I supposed to have got. Weave through this lot of have nots. This cycle I writhed in pain.
28
To be in a perpetual state of grief
To always sink into a mawkish abyss
Held back, thrust forward, ill-equipped, here-you-go
It was to read as a brief chapter
Now it seems to play as the theme of the whole tome
You, In This Light
You showed up… Or maybe you showed off… It’s all a little murky as it happened… Even now… in controlled recall.
You looked at me the way we stare at the sun… Not for long… All for wrong… Reasons.
I now wear these lemon glasses indoors and
REMS
This dream… My imagination could never come up with… Anything remotely close… With enough mindfulness to… Consider consequence… As part of
Poison the Well
I did not poison the well
I just wanted to have a drink of water
I may have overreached and
There You Are
There are places you avoid even if … It sounded like, then, a great idea… See where it goes…
This is not a rabbit hole… This is a snake pit, reasons for… Why those scars are right… There, both your
danDAman 