I am going to share my writing with people using this blog. I made this as a 3-day late start to NaPoWriMo, but these elephants look cool, so I'll probably stick to this forever.

Psychoactive

Psychoactive

My attraction

Knows no bounds

 

Colors flourish

In the sky

And fall to kiss the ground

 

When I cry

I open up

My head to the outside

 

In the end

All that you fret

Will find a way to die

 

Psychoactive

When it’s over

Look at where we are

 

We could blend

Into the lamp

Or drift into the stars

 

All we have

Is a big round path

Until we draw a line

 

Take away

The murky gray

And all that’s left is time

Posted
1 year ago

Rinsed

-The following is my continuation of the song Lather by Jefferson Airplane-

Lather turned 75 today

His toys now were adding machines

The colors surrounding him never stood out

And at night, he could no longer dream

In his mother’s will, he was left with a sum

That he spent on the driest of books

And a wardrobe that settled him into the crowd

For he grew up to care how he looked

But lather still walks on the beach now and then

To recall how it all fell apart

For everyday, he found his pocket still full

Though something had slipped from his heart

He waited for something to jump back inside

And possess him to sing through his nose

But a voice deep inside called him crazy again

I guess that’s how growing up goes……..

Posted
1 year ago

The World Blows Over

No army, no sunrise

No buzzing, no crashing

No hatred, no passion

No racket, no clutter

No screeching, no singing

No music, no footsteps

No honking, no burning

No losing, no finding

No dying, no climbling

No falling, no calling

No barking, no scratching

No biting, no tearing

No bleeding, no screaming

No laughing, no bleeding

No breeding, no eating

No shivers, no nothing

And maybe now I can fall asleep

Posted
1 year ago

Electric Headache

Electric headache

Splits and solves

Crumbles

Dissolves

Recreates

Electric headache

Goes away

And leaves behind no pain

Posted
1 year ago

Stethoscope

Dear, wake up.

I feel cold and scared.

Could you check to see

if my heart’s still there?

 

My pulse feels dry,

if that makes sense,

and every thought I have

feels dense.

 

You’re telling me

to get some rest,

but something’s off

in our lovely nest.

 

It’s not you,

but it isn’t me.

It’s what’s between us

left unseen.

 

Now it’s clear,

and I could sleep,

but there’s still something

incomplete.

 

While we sleep,

we drift apart

and soon forget

each other’s heart.

 

We drift through life

like hopeless feathers.

It’s time we start to

dream together.

Posted
1 year ago

Prompt the 5

"Pigeons

wander without

aim”, us humans tend to

think from seeing part of what is

boundless.

Posted
1 year ago

Natural

A dog escaped his yard

and ran across

a field

into a pond.

That dog drowned, but

not to death,

just halfway there-

left resting breathless

in a mess of feeling,

nothing more

and nothing less.

All around his, thoughts, ideas, and

raw emotions swam around

to sink into each other soundly.

All that was would flow and wait

until a wave came by

to plunge a mass of consciousness

in the depths

of a great unknown.

At the other side,

he washed onto the shore

of a human mind

and made himself a home

inside a cave that echoed endlessly.

Truth be told, inside the cave,

his spirit rested.

Thus his life had slipped

away forever,

yet the spirit still remained.

His home beyond the grave

became a thought inside

that human mind;

a ray of hope that never fades

reflected from a friendship

that could never die away.

Thus we find that,

even as

a distant memory,

every creature has its calling.

Notes
2
Posted
1 year ago

Always a Home

There’s always a home, though it’s falling apart

There’s always a pulse if there’s only one heart
And we can stay warm off of only one spark

And if that blows out, we’ll adapt to the dark.

Though nothing is helping, the hurt’s in the past

And we’ll recreate all the good that can’t last

If it takes all we have, which is never that much

But that’s the amount that works perfect for us

Everything changes and everyone dies

Whether they’ve found their purpose of simply survived

So what do we live for?  I’ll give you a hint

It’s boundlessly better than where we have been

And I’m still not sure what that purpose is

Posted
1 year ago

B-Walk

Nights that display every star in full

deserve the attention of those not exhausted

by life’s daily hassles and silent frustrations

that drain them so tragically long before dusk.

 

Evenings of beauty emit a smooth taste

that fills a sound mind with the memories of daydreams

played out in real life back in sweet youthful years

to relax those still driven by deep wanderlust.

 

Peace is awakened in each muscle fiber,

 dissolving the storm clouds of meaningless burden

that stresses the soul in a world without boundaries

as a thick, fading fog slips into the sky.

 

A breeze sweeps the trees while they dance to the rhythm

of the joy now released to roam free through the streets

that hold all the wandering souls nearly broken

through turbulence made from just asking, “Why?”

Posted
1 year ago

Lunch in the Clouds

The dreamers save the world
from beneath the skin
of revolution;

those souls who invite you

to lunch in the clouds,

viewing all the world

in a moment of leisure.

They are, in truth,

the walking extremes

that stretch what is real

until reality readjusts.

Though plausibility seems scarce,

we find our arms outstretched

towards what we have been shown

but cannot yet reach.

These dreamers never paint a path,

but rather one more corner

that sits and dares us

to seek what’s around it.

Posted
1 year ago
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