poetry, Uncategorized

5/28 Social Media

We press our faces into mirrors,
to see the difference in the other.
But either reflections are deceptions,
or we all suffer from misconceptions.
Because, the only thing I see
are images of them and me
partaking in a mockery
of our mental faculties.

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poetry

4/27 The Session

I haven’t had time to think of a question,
since our last session.
I’ve been busy, you see,
rediscovering me.

What’s that you’re writing there?
No, I don’t care.
I have better things to do with my time
than worry what you think of my mind.
In fact,
good day to you sir.
Let this meeting be our last.
I think I prefer
insanity to this farce.

poetry

4/25 The Dance

I love your smell
said Lion
to Gazelle
as she ran her nose along his neck.
Delectably sweet,
good enough to eat
in fact, I’ll try a bite.
So, don’t put up a fight.

His skin quivered and quaked
as her breath danced,
and though he smelled death
he stood completely entranced.
And her paw on his skin
served to sedate him
he was frozen under her glance.

But with a kick and a shake
he broke loose from her spell,
and ran ,like the hounds from hell
Were nipping at his heels.
A rustle in the grass,
Free at last,
A fleeting midday meal.

poetry, Uncategorized

4/24 Remember You, Remember Me.

I
remember you,
remember me,
remember memories
of my, and your poetry.
Remember the first time we met
across the bar.
We drove the same car,
yours was older,
open windows for
stale cigarette smoke
and the joke, that it was better that way
since the air outside was fresher in any case.

I remember
coming here,
leaving there,
short hair, long hair,
black hair, blonde hair.
I remember the room next to the kitchen
and the huntsman spiders making a mess of
our
spent
nerves.

I remember that first walk in the rain,
with the storm water sloshing around our ankles
when we slipped
off
the overcrowded sidewalks in our dollar store ponchos,
The bread shop,
our salvation after hours of walking, and losing our way.
I remember being lost,
but never feeling lost
with you.

poetry

4/22 The End Destination

We’re going down!
I repeat, we’re going down!
Flak is bursting all around.
Red flames bleeding in the fore and aft,
an incessant rocking from the blasts.
The ground an imminent destination,
I find release in my imagination.
The thought that I am hur-t-ling through outer space,
en route to oblivion, from the human race.