Quiet chair, Can you hear me Soft dry tears running down, down, down Wait. Rain pours gently, And so the outside becomes the In.
Tag: Poetry
Being conscious in consumption.
So swim with me in this moment dear, Reader, and picture your life. See the choices you have made, the choices you are going to make, and the choices you are making and float with me just for this moment.
Traces in the sand
So I feel the trace of my foot as it murmurs softly through the dropped light of possibility smirking as I watch my past chase my steps.
Circular, Cyclical, Cozy.
Like the feel of the matte soup cup too big to hold with nothing but the strongest four-tipped finger press Muffled sounds crescendoing to a cacophony of silence peaceful.
A promise
Swirling gently upon your lips, the tides are turning;
The Green Knight
It's a tale of man seeking to find himself, and upon undertaking this journey he discovers what it means to live along the way.
I dream a dream.
But I'll wake up, won't I? Or perhaps I already am awake? Living the life of a dream I can't remember.
Snow is change
Snow is change. It holds time. But, it is beautiful.
In and out of Wonderland
Ethereal, realism, hazing through a reality that was born from the dreams of dragon flies and talking flowers. Roses sing. Daisies muse. Yet, in the end, the violets are always true, True in song and in rhyme, always singing forever, for neither a dream, nor a dime. So do I wonder through wonderland, not… Continue reading In and out of Wonderland
The collector of broken hearts
If the world where a haze of black and white. I would be the collector, the man of broken shards and pieces. I sift through the darkness and the light, always searching for them. My body a shadow. My eyes burning bright. On do I search, through the dark and the light. My… Continue reading The collector of broken hearts
Milkshake Thoughts 