Happy People

I am perfectly happy, I surround myself with happy people. Happy people who happen to be thousands of miles away, decades too. Different places, different times. Happiness at it's best. I am surrounded all the time, by all the aspects. The world is 360 degrees, and so is time, just so happens, so am I.

Sun rays draped,

Stepping across tiny petals,

Kissing air filled pollen,

to walk,

my life as a beetle.

Rest with a King

Love letter, deep soulful red clay.

Stares of a king-

Lay my weight against you.

The pounds of worries, leave no dents today.

Let in, deep breaths

Sleepy worries, sleeps away

Sweet conversation, wisdom for the sick

Depending fully,

Dangerous sharp and loud.

Trust is no issue, just a leap.

To lean against the lion.

Note: First time in a long time jumping back in. This is a nice little warm up for me. My style has changed a bit. I use less filler words. However, I feel that I still use that same heavy thick style. Like peanut butter. As a challenge, I'll try to write something light and fluffy soon. I will most likely be back quite a few times to diddle with this lion poem. So check back.

Wasted

5 o clock-- just woke up.

Mid October, just woke up.

Every love, every wish, every breath.

Wasted.

Wasted all day.

Wasted you.

Twined basket used for trash--

Handmade for flowers.

Sorry and Guilty,

I'd be your flowers now.

I'd plant myself, for you, for you

you, you, you.

And i know you have better now, better than I'd deserve.

A daisy or a rose.

shelves and dust

This is your library

Cold Dust

Easily Inhaled

Heavy Floors

Sinking into hardness

And the walls, real soft.

They bend,

impossible to lean-

Pure oatmeal.

Wobble.

What can hold me, now?

The air feels,

as waves do.

Happy stories carry the most sadness.

Loud like a color, quiet like a whisper.

They tell me to stop visiting,

It pains too much.

If I stop reading, I'll forget.

Sharp pains, thoughts of you.

To read with tears,

I've trained them, to see through blurs.

You've lost these books,

I'll keep them.

Your treasures, my treasure chest.

My nights belong to you.

Mr.Owl

Intro: This was just an exercise, I tried to step out of the style, I've been using lately. Conversation with an owl.

Have you seen the stars lately? Oh, so you have looked up to them. Well that is fine, look up to them. Let them be your heroes. And then when you fall tomorrow morning, and you skin your knees, look up to them. They won't be there. Now do you see? For the stars are the only ones I looked up to, and they aren't even always there. And I tried the clouds, they were worst. Always moving, changing, bending shape! And the sun! Well that sun only burned my eyes. So who do you suppose I should look too? The mud, the dirt, the fire ants? If i dwell with the dirt, they'll call me a worm! And if the stars are not sweet to me, how could i even think of counting on the ants? The flowers, you say? Pretty little things? They make me sneeze. The earth, the sky, I don't belong! And the sea, well my goodness-- there are sharks! So Mr.Owl if you are truly so smart, where do i belong and to whom? And please don't say the people. For yes, I am a people, but I'd rather lay with the fire ants.

Quote of the moment:

"The streets lie, the sidewalks lie, everything lies You can try and read it but you're gonna get it wrong...all wrong The summer evenings burn and melt and the nights glitter but you're gonna get it wrong And it's gonna sink its teeth into your flesh and pull you to the bottom.”

-Henry Rollins

Selfish Seaweed, Resentful Wave

Dear Reader, this has so much gunk and filler words. But it is about a muddy bank, so leave the gunk. But take off your new fancy shoes, before walking into this one...


I am most selfish to say, but honest to admit that I have lost you, and this was up to you. And that is what picks at me most. The seldom fact that you are gone is not what bothers me but the fact- I did not drop you. Yes, I have dropped many into the lake, to watch them fall. Nights have been lost to sadness and regret to many that I have lost due to all of my own faults. Some i have even let go for my own good. No matter the reason they sank or the ways I let go, each was painful. Watching anyone sink out of my reach, made me feel like a helpless child and too much like a respectable adult. By letting them sink, and watching them lower onto the banks, I have healed. They have healed. Using every ounce of fresh water, and new fish. I have healed. And knowing they will always be still at the bottoms of the banks, I have healed. But i never let go of you, so how would I know where you rest your head? How will I ever know to taste the fresh water? I never dropped you nor let you sink. You simply slipped away and flowed, down the river. Resentful to me, and resentful to sink. Down the river to something new. To fresher water. And dumbly I tried to stop you, acting as if I could lure you back in. But you weren't a hungry guppy, more of a rolling wave. So the wind pushed you, but I like a rock just sank down. I who always rolled others in, now sank to the bottom. Because you have left me, you have dropped me. And now I am seaweed, leaning with the currents toward where you have gone but planted into the ground at the bottom of the banks.


Quote of The Moment:


“The blues is losing someone you love and not having enough money to immerse yourself in drink.”
-Henry Rollins

I like his heavy voice in this quote.