if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
we're not kids anymore.
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@randomwordbyruth
the Mountain by Frost
the Mountain by Frost
THE MOUNTAIN held the town as in a shadow I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed that I missed stars in the west, Where its black body cut into the sky. Near me it seemed: I felt it like a wall Behind which I was sheltered from a wind. And yet between the town and it I found, When I walked forth at dawn to see new things, Were fields, a river, and beyond, more fields. The river at the…
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the Written Gun
Nothing more colorful than, a gray flannel day. Blistering winds with more shine than a lucky penny. A spring Nor’easter. A gathering of the personal army. Crossing drawn lines in soiled, slush. Gathering all visionary perseverance into a tight bun. The loose ends of the earth our mine to own… Under the written gun.
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Wanderers and Prophets
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where sunset left us. Even while the earth sleeps we travel. We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered. Kahlil Gibran
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Cajoling Innocence
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Windows N Wallpaper N Women
Windows N Wallpaper N Women
I often wonder if I could see her out of all the windows at once. But, turn as fast as I can, I can only see out of one at one time. And though I always see her, she may be able to creep faster than I can turn! I have watched her sometimes away off in the open country, creeping as fast as a cloud shadow in a high wind… … I don’t like to look out of the windows even–there are so many of those…
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Birch Bones
Birch Bones Scattered birch bones about the way… Classics bellow below. Sometimes I talk to the angels. They appear as dust on the rays of the sun. ‘No, no, sweetheart your pilgrimage has just begun.’ And, though, my footing grabs at my destiny… Strangely, strange, it is the wilderness that sets my spirit free. A dare, one would say. As the winged mystique call those that wander to the way… And,…
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Your Touch has grown Cold
Your Touch has grown Cold
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Seesaw's and Mechanical Pony's
Seesaw’s and Mechanical Pony’s
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A daydream within a dream
A daydream within a dream
Sometimes, I wonder too much…if I wonder too much. Live life within a dream. Or, at least, a daydream. How lucky am I? To look up, as well as, down. As if my grievance with nature is that of anxious inspiration. As if these walks were cheap snippets of temptation. “You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision,…
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Curiosity's Oddity
Curiosity’s Oddity
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Stood Humble
‘Heed the screams.’ Flee the fall. The spindly woods, tell all. At first sight, I had been blissfully, unaware. Then within a moment’s hesitation, one lone oak became a pair. For miles, the blistering winds had admonished an earthy speech… in my muffled ear. Without understanding, I only listened for the cautions they longed for me to hear. All surrounding sounds and, alike, its…
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Organic Manicure
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Letting the Water Hold Me Back
Letting the Water Hold Me Back
Wall to wall. Rushing waters so fast they imply a stall. Winter’s root seems to have loosened her pace. There is abrasion to her typically, smooth surface. Everyday, I pass by a downy path. I can only assume it leads to a dark tundra of creations unknown. In refrain, the wild-birds echo a refrain to their song… I am in their home. Puffs of once frozen, white wigs. Have turned into slushy,…
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How To Store Poetic Thoughts
How To Store Poetic Thoughts
In an abandoned garage over on River road. In a left alone box…I keep the sacred thoughts. In an upholstered chair from 1972, all velour and static, covered in snow. That is where make-believe takes a seat. It is where poetry goes. Around about, midday, most days, when the sun quenches the sky. I take time out to visit a graveyard Sage made of stone and bone. To amend the playful wrongs…make…
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Flea Market Snowshoe
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Sullied by Contentment
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Edgy
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