Days of Random Thoughts and a Skeleton of a new poem
Traveling looks good to me again.
Tucson happens and Jack pushes me. Thank you.
As I grow older I find familiar things comforting.(Longing for the past yet not traveling to find a familiar face no) down for more familiar face;What's up with that?)
Screw it. I'm moving to Tucson.
Music I've know comes to play
golden voices whisper in my ear
sparking memories of a child.
News of the family and the world .
Even though a child can come close to
what they think they say,
they plant seeds spring will
summer will nurture and bring fruit before the fall.
(once) visited and now come again and challenge.
I breathed my first breath at 5:36 p.m on Mon Feb 1st, 1962.
My spirit was with form
and yet void.
I found flashes of life
flickering in my feable body.
I broke throught the body of earth
spread my limbs and shivered.
I was free.
It was a bit wet but things dry up
over time.
So there I lay drying up. I called to one
of the nurses to pick me up but she didn't think
I was serious. So I called her louder. I was saying.
Look at me Ive pissed all over myself!and my hand can only wave.
Then some other persone came and took me away.
I continued on my path then I discovered I was alive....and this would be what it would be like when I was on
my way out.
Spring voices come again and
challenge.
The seed was planted deep,
and just after the darkness,
a place during the green days
brought fresh warmth.
A new mist in the air swirled,
mother earth discovered free will.
You loved her, and it's that way still.
Look up.
It is midsummer.
still.
Red Roses bloom, and,
purpetually call the eye.
I recall the first rose I brushed up against.
Do not rush upon a rose,
from below.
Admire it from afar first.
and as you float from above in it's sweet glow,
closer to beauty, take note and never forget
how the thorns are bent
to bleed your distracted heart.
The Red Rose has bound
your bleeding heart.
Bend your courious nose
to what has your eye.
Prepair your heart to burn
with the heat of the sun,
The Red Rose will cool your fingertips
with soft cool petels, and in the same moment
stoke the deep flames of desire.
After you have satisfied the rose's call
Breath deep the scent
The laboratory that creates life
Bask in the benefits or your honesty
and regain the world.
Knowing, has its way with you.
Reminding you of choice.
The Red Rose has it's own
as does the wind.
to bloom again for other eye
to float around another sky
Midsummer isn't so bad and
I still like the words I write
brooding doesn't make me
but I like it still
the misery that you denied.
you refuse to snip The Red Rose
and watch it die.
or kneel beneath the bush and have her
rise you into submission.
nose for
a brush the
soft pettles
don't rush toward them
they may sting.
Deep red and lovely pungount Rose
Bring me near to you
Tucson happens and Jack pushes me. Thank you.
As I grow older I find familiar things comforting.(Longing for the past yet not traveling to find a familiar face no) down for more familiar face;What's up with that?)
Screw it. I'm moving to Tucson.
Music I've know comes to play
golden voices whisper in my ear
sparking memories of a child.
News of the family and the world .
Even though a child can come close to
what they think they say,
they plant seeds spring will
summer will nurture and bring fruit before the fall.
(once) visited and now come again and challenge.
I breathed my first breath at 5:36 p.m on Mon Feb 1st, 1962.
My spirit was with form
and yet void.
I found flashes of life
flickering in my feable body.
I broke throught the body of earth
spread my limbs and shivered.
I was free.
It was a bit wet but things dry up
over time.
So there I lay drying up. I called to one
of the nurses to pick me up but she didn't think
I was serious. So I called her louder. I was saying.
Look at me Ive pissed all over myself!and my hand can only wave.
Then some other persone came and took me away.
I continued on my path then I discovered I was alive....and this would be what it would be like when I was on
my way out.
Spring voices come again and
challenge.
The seed was planted deep,
and just after the darkness,
a place during the green days
brought fresh warmth.
A new mist in the air swirled,
mother earth discovered free will.
You loved her, and it's that way still.
Look up.
It is midsummer.
still.
Red Roses bloom, and,
purpetually call the eye.
I recall the first rose I brushed up against.
Do not rush upon a rose,
from below.
Admire it from afar first.
and as you float from above in it's sweet glow,
closer to beauty, take note and never forget
how the thorns are bent
to bleed your distracted heart.
The Red Rose has bound
your bleeding heart.
Bend your courious nose
to what has your eye.
Prepair your heart to burn
with the heat of the sun,
The Red Rose will cool your fingertips
with soft cool petels, and in the same moment
stoke the deep flames of desire.
After you have satisfied the rose's call
Breath deep the scent
The laboratory that creates life
Bask in the benefits or your honesty
and regain the world.
Knowing, has its way with you.
Reminding you of choice.
The Red Rose has it's own
as does the wind.
to bloom again for other eye
to float around another sky
Midsummer isn't so bad and
I still like the words I write
brooding doesn't make me
but I like it still
the misery that you denied.
you refuse to snip The Red Rose
and watch it die.
or kneel beneath the bush and have her
rise you into submission.
nose for
a brush the
soft pettles
don't rush toward them
they may sting.
Deep red and lovely pungount Rose
Bring me near to you
posted by Wheat Kracker at 9:16 PM
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