SoulReverie @soulreverie - Tumblr Blog

gabblewritessometimesdeactivated

Orion

Held up in the stars. A blur

Of colour, gradually

Forming, exposed.

How can something so beautiful,

Something so ecstatic and bursting

Be far? In our reach

Yet elusive.

Reach up to the sky,

Holding the ground still. We

Can reach you, Orion.

We’re here. So human.

Photo credit to nasa, I guess? I took it directly from the wiki site.

thejournalofbisonjack

A Poem’s Wants

.

A poem wants

to be a photograph

in the same way

a photograph wants

to be a painting

and a painting wants

to be a song that

wants to be a love letter

in the same way

a love letter wants

to be a poem.

cherokeeghostwriter

you've been saying goodbye since the day we met. going from one uncomfortable encounter on to the next -a trail of ashes, where only memory should linger. i've struggled to salvage something of us, -something of you in these miserable remains. a line or two of a carelessly discarded friendship, falling from your pocket, as you flee this pyre- sorrow, grasping at your heels.

cherokeeghostwriter

Sunset through the trees. Waterloo AL.

cherokeeghostwriter

This morning leaving Waterloo.

cherokeeghostwriter

stardust

whittling my desires down. culling unnecessarily. losing fingers in the process, -it's, a process -it's a close cut to the quick, desperation dodging despair.

i'm all that's left. well, me and these unusable puzzle pieces. these snippets, cast as past lives, and perilous seas. my conceit, sprinkled with stardust.

what is it about a blank page, that troubles me so. where do all of these words come from? more importantly, where do they go. a bit or a byte. a feeling converted into a digital signature, as blank as my expression, and half as legible.

cherokeeghostwriter

soft as regret

somehow, i find myself in belgium, photographing chestnut trees.

not on purpose- not with a plan- but as if drawn, by some quiet gravity, to these narrow streets and onto this vacant square -shaded like a held breath.

i get lost, not dangerously so, just enough to forget what I was looking for -and there they are chestnut trees impossibly still blossoming, with all the time in the world.

i raise my camera, not to remember- but because something in me needs to hold what has already been expressed.

in may, they bloom. -and i bloom.

the shutter clicks soft as regret.

cherokeeghostwriter

yearning for sunlight

it’s that time again. each year you arrive with the seasons turning, history clinging to a specific set of days, prompting me to face -thoughts of you, -painful, and uninvited.

your memory comes like a traveler seeking mercy, pockets weighted down, earnest -and late. these Septembers peel themselves away, layer by layer, each, an unacknowledged bruise, -yearning for sunlight.

remembrance -lies folded in the gutters of October, slipped beneath piles of amber and bone- Autumn leaves, keeping secrets from the cold. i rake them into small cairns, to mark each passing.

purplemonkeysexgod69

leave no trace

go ahead, leave your mark,

build your legacy.

time is the tide.

cherokeeghostwriter

decoy

it's pointless to worry over time. we have what we have.

stop keeping your eye on the ball. the ball is a lure- a carrot dangling just ahead, a rabbit for the greyhound, coursing endless circles without prize, or relevance.

life is a beach. time is the tide.