Posts tagged ‘ideas’

February 18, 2015

this is your life

No order,
only hard fate;
this is your life,
so why wait?

February 15, 2015

February Forecast

The back-window view comes through plastic-split shades,
A muted setting of winter-barren under dampened-dim skies;
Thoughts of base raise in the mind question to go wander,
A forecast forlorn suggests: layer in bundles, stay inside.

February 12, 2015

How to “know”

Words we use which we don’t “know”,
Have been framed from a storied past;
Sedimented by interpreted histories,
Always portrayed by fools as fact.

January 28, 2015

Post-Modern Prose

Today I woke up next to someone I love,
I walked into the kitchen to feed the cat.
After that, I took a shower, a shit, and brushed my teeth;
Today has been pretty remarkable already.

January 25, 2015

Naive

Fickle love’s passing fate,
Seen a wretched cold world;
Sweet birdsong of the wind,
And a blouse lay unfurled.

January 23, 2015

Pages of the City

The city center has
Been filled with

Trash.

These spots to grab attention,
To make you buy: react.

Local rags remain,
Good at that, and intact.

Though,

What stands out is
The importance they lack.

We have books by the stack,
Micro-brewed beers,
Diverse weather,
And bike paths.

We have beaches
In the summer months to relax,
And theatres like
The Guthrie to see acts.

Local mags don’t really map that;
They attack,

-With photos, lists, and ads.

Painting a picture without paving a path,
They write on setting precedent, because they can’t.

***
I suppose one day I will be surprised when an article proves friendly to my eyes.
But only after realizing how much effort was put into marketing to my demographic.

January 21, 2015

The Reality of Free Writing

One hour of purposeful free writing
Had turned to my life portioned in words.
After a second read I knew it was shit,
Moments later the rhyme was absurd.

January 6, 2015

Leaving Inishmore

Waking early in a clouded dawn to board a bus,
This bus takes us through the dark to a dock.
One warm ferry waits in stirring waters below,
It’s held there fast by thick ropes in tight knots.

January 5, 2015

Drinking the Water

Just think,
We are made up of 60% water—

So, if we drink water,
From a different land,
From a different city,
From a different spring,
From a different past, present and future,

Do we become made up of something entirely different?

December 29, 2014

Day Two: Dublin, Ireland.

Sitting here with a view of predawn Dublin;
Lights slowly flicker on,
A dark morning comes to fruition.

Stretching and yawning moans,-cold to chill the bones through,
And the others are asleep while I write to you.

Electrical outlets and jetlag at present,
As the global news dances on a set.

From this now local residence, everything must be accounted for in this list’s existence:
Not to miss a flipped switch, groceries, taxis, euros, and pubs, a lit doorway in the distance.

Sitting alone,
Taking it in.

Thoughts of warm tea, or coffee.

The cold in my throat looms as heavy as the cold in the room,
And the sun has not yet risen to melt it away.

I wait for Day Two in Dublin, a brand new day.

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