I may be tone-deaf as you say but scrutiny gets you lost an eponymouspattern for which you see, but really at what cost? I produce words and phrases here to get me on a route like mud and reeds go searching in a marsh for land to suit. The insight that you’ve given me with speed and acuity reminds me of my childhood friends and what they meant to me. So here we stop at a junction place where speed defies no one and think of hent in terms of life but where is all the fun? Let’s stop and say we are both here for similar success But I will surely put you down since my writing is the best.
I tried to write something for the prompts yesterday but nothing was coming to me, so I closed the computer lid and walked away. I came back today with a fresh set of hands and eyes and this is what I got!?
Can you picture a person in the fresh open air looking up at a plane and you follow their stare It’s a plane on a stick and the stick in the ground My head is now spinning around and around. The essence of pleasure has been taken away It takes one to know one, is what they all say But whether indigenous or found far from here My investigation is becoming quite clear There’s a scroll at the base with a tiny rosette I barely could take notice of words that were set on the thin little paper rolled up with a bow What it might say, I don’t really know. My endeavor is over, my looking is done This plane won’t fly far, it’s just there for fun I envisage myself walking quickly away But I might come to check this some other day.
Before I could make a colossal mistake I went to my laboratory wondering just what to make I thought of achievements and those of my kids I looked for recognition in everything they did. Listlessly sitting under long bright white lights a milestone reminded me of a time of a fright A leopard had lumbered its way in my head A display of lactation while I lay in my bed Sort of a nuance the vision soon cleared and I realized my daughter was where I most feared. Alone in the kitchen with only the cats Lapping up milk and softly giving them pats I leapt out of bed and threw on my clothes Reminded I thankfully washed the floor, I suppose. Forgetting the mess and only laughter ensued Thought my jovial reputation was what I couldn’t out-do
As I sit now and think about the words here today I catenate my words in my roustabout way Its not an emergency this is no jubilee but as I proceed I feel it does amuse me. Like a blackbird who flies in the dead of the night to a flame going out in the wind Nothing surprises my mind anymore, so now it is time to begin I will think of an ambulance whirling away as it seems to cross by on the street While a meek little woman searches her purse, wondering who she might meet She may need assistance here on the ground, her bare feet attached to the earth Or getting her butt up on the bus, the door is too small for her girth. I find that I am like a grain of the sand that covers a wide open beach playing my part in this writing montage wondering who I will reach. Now that I’m done and she’s riding the bus my search for the words has to stop Like a saint kneels to pray the creed that he knows, my brain cells are ready to drop.
I dreamt of a world in a land far away A rainbow spanned the sky, which impacted my day A little bitty bird with pink little feet toiled with the soil looking for a worm to eat The scent on the air was filled with jasmine and some spice A current little something, boiled apples would be nice My mind sent my thoughts awhirl coming from nowhere A platitude of messages, but I really didn’t care I was happy with the world, brightness beaming in my eyes Nothing could be better than those cloud covered skies. I awoke with a start finding myself all alone Wishing I was back there now in that quiet zone.
Way back when, when I was young and I lived in a shack My parents were both generous and gave me lots of slack My name was in the news just once when I was nine or ten It was a misprint I had seen, which haunted me back then. My height was short despite my age and so it wasn’t rare For others to indulge themselves in ruffling my hair. In my domain it suited me to leave my hair a mop But mom and dad they fought with me if leaving our door stop They thought the style quite unkempt and wanted it pulled back There even was the once or twice my mom gave me a smack! And so I live alone for now, as I’m a grown adult I often look like Cousin It, and that is all my fault.
To show off his accomplishment the awkward little man Silenced by the opulence, a foreshadow of a plan, burst into the sunroom to catch them by surprise But the planned achievement earned was not his enterprise. the mother of the baby worked to quieten her tot while one teen sat sedated, another picked a shoelace knot He noticed a quiet lady was swatting at some flies Antagonist by nature or just nosey and all eyes? He felt his plan diminish and realized in the end That people don’t like others who are timid little men.
If the truth be told and I don’t really lie my heart wasn’t in it, I wanted to die I declined the chance which might have been bad it was an opportunity I never have had Until I found out later that day with dawn and then twilight dimming the way my fears could diminish and vanish for good If I conflated my lives with a twist of my mood I was only a chicken with white, softish wings the dawn of a new day was really my thing so I sucked up my fear and used what I had And found waking up early wasn’t that bad.