A chip of chalcedony, handled with two hands ambidextrous fondling, tenacity expands Like a vaccination shot released, a controversial dose Provenance is here but gone, a chip of history’s close Training to the naked eye, food for thought ingest Like macaroni for the feast, I merely try my best.
In a house down the street with an unearthly vibe Desperation is seen in the cracks on the sills A camera click is a sign of the times That discourse is present, not basic thrills The plants all around find nutrition complete in the rot and the moss on each block A cougar could starve as nothing survives but a clever frog under a rock. No variation exists in this beat up old home no more life will be present again but watch for yourself the eery green glow and the voices of ageless, dead men.
Its a terrific day to bypass the world and languish what’s needing to be Done are the days of silly cartoons dangling fake lives ‘front of me I bend to the floor, escaping the lights, from the moon accessible through the blinds My stonewashed jeans are clean and are dry and nothing weighs on my mind The opalescence in this worldwide debut is the beauty of an angel’s halo A zeitgeist of long gone serenity waits while dreams of a utopia grow.
Although the feeling all around was a melancholy mood The policy of folks like me was fastidious and good The swell of hope I felt that day diminished in a flash While standing on the center lane, no barriers to dash The happiness just slipped away to crush my vivid dream Like oil on a flabby piece of skin in need of cream Luck would have it no one else here seemed to see me cry Except for one lone shaming man, I felt like I would die. I tried to turn but felt real stuck with sorrow and some pain Jumping now would do no good, there wasn’t any gain. So here I stood aside the man, a standstill in my head Realizing my day was done, so I left and went to bed.
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.