She is a lovely
my darling clementine, is
sweet as, day is long
A river, rolling
consistently peaceful as
beautiful as she
She is a lovely
my darling clementine, is
sweet as, day is long
A river, rolling
consistently peaceful as
beautiful as she
Charging children and
secret, vegan eggnog is
brittle outer-fam.
Holiday people
are dreadful. No one sees me.
And I hope they choke.
Holiday people
are dreadful. No one sees me.
And I hope they choke.
Consistently, I’ve
been coughing. And nose? Running.
Sleep is a stranger.
In winter, sun shines
and snow falls. We are the strong
and lush exception.
Brightly shines the sun.
But snow has yet to fall. Damp.
Basking in/outside.
My dog passed yesterday. He was thirteen years old. Its a weird thing to watch the life of a being begin and end. I’m feeling heavy on it and I’m not sure of what to say. He was my guy and now he’s gone and a part of the big, grand IT. Lots of love to and from.
Is [is] the only[?] (world)
[w]here life remarkably goes(?)[;]
(Why are we) [c]onfused(?) [as I am?]
Waiting for Josh, air.
Always forget how strange, air.
Not Josh. No, the port.
Morning time without
movement in the day, cries for
more stimulation.
My brain and I are
getting reacquainted now.
I like him, you know?
However, there are
paths on occasion: dim, crazed.
“Remove brain to think”
Morning time before
sun and birds, drip coffee, toast.
Broken: fixed and sun.
My breath is full of
twigs and other things. Cough=null.
But its bright with love.
And soft with low tones.
Short breath now not for my lungs,
but for the breeze one.
“Nope. Go around. You
must move for me. All about
me. Life is mine. Me.”
Good things come. Patience:
overrated. You are proof.
Life is infective.
A worthy venture
trying and the reward of
being and loving
Shapes are feel. Reflect
and the color of star eyes.
Circle gets the square.
Love, adoration
Respect, honesty, patience
Lost art of sweetness
Walking on the moon
Sting and broken parts clean up
brain’s mess through song, four.
Dimensional stream
Pouring, steaming, the quickness
Broken idea
She is, smiling small
My mind is foraging for
Leaf life, breaking glass
Round and the museum
Shifts and sees the margins, clear
Crunch underfoot now
Mother calls on me
Dark forest and bright night skies
And water falling
I hear it calling
When I’m sick of hearing with
my brain and my thinks
I think harmonically but
not completely. because my
mind minds me mostly
There are three factors
that contribute to my mood.
Absence makes so(u)l(e)s shake.
To meet one’s self in
the past or the future would
Back to the future
Change the direction
of your course drastically but
is a movie that
If given the chance
would you pass it up? Could you?
will change you always
There is a dirge here
Begins with no knowledge of
The dip, dive, depths of
Sweetandlovely, old
fast, spicyandsalty, sore
Sweet and spicy: win.