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Scraped by the lesser walls was a questioned word and the fragrant epiphany
When the view brought more than reflected light itself both with flurry and dynamic layers
A language translated as it’s made
25 Saturday Jan 2020
Posted poetry
inTags
Scraped by the lesser walls was a questioned word and the fragrant epiphany
When the view brought more than reflected light itself both with flurry and dynamic layers
A language translated as it’s made
25 Saturday Jan 2020
Posted poetry
inare we standing still?
as the sky shimmers
dripping and drenched
the little ephemeral rivers form
droplets bead and trail
coating us and the landscape
connecting us as it saturates us
07 Tuesday Jan 2020
Posted poetry
inTags
abstract, blog, dreams, existential, faith, feelings, free verse, poem, poetry, prose, spilled ink, symbolism, words
These streets are made of debris by now
Though it’s of my own design
Recycled and renewed through daily acts of bravery
Quavering isolated and shaking me was this bright dead of night soliloquy
My file is made of granite or something and I just want to stare to the horizon and watch those beautiful lights move
Waiting for the calculations to get run my way as the magic magnet movies flicker
Charting an escape and a rescue
Like some strategy meeting of myself and I
It’s been so long I’ve waited and there are things I’m still digesting
But the world won’t wait
I’m not even scared I’m just doing my best to absorb each moment and spend my time doing more than maintenance work on a system I don’t have any say over
I’m diamonds to them but not worth anything
I’m trying my friend but it’s hard going
I don’t want lavish material objects
The most obnoxious excess
Just somewhere ostensibly mine
Hopefully somewhat more assuredly
The truth is I don’t even want to think about numbers as my value
Some are driven by them and it works I guess
Though I feel it only makes me anxious
If I weren’t worrying about it and when I don’t
I achieve so much more good work for its own sake alone
Why must every task be quantified with a sum
When the truly nobles ones
No amount would replace them?
Maybe it’s the dreamers dream
Waiting for eyelashes to transform on a whim
Or maybe I just need to have faith