It’s not 1973. Still, Dueling musicboxes assure us Of what we refuse to see. Darkness is but a cliché And so is our existence, Or lack thereof; Insofar as I’m aware.
Category:Poetry
Just poetry of varying styles. Some were written on my iPhone late at night, lying in bed as sleep eluded me. Some were written from thin air, each line coming to mind only after the previous had been written. Still, others were written based on a thought or feeling I had at the moment.
Bright is my soul, like a smoky lantern in a relentless fog Clear is my mind, like a broken stained-glass window in an abandoned church Warm is my heart, like a winter campfire beneath a snow-covered tree Rested is my…
Take my hand and follow me I’ll take you anywhere, just say the word Open your mind to the possibilities Because of you, my heart is stirred Take a breath and let it out Look at me, let’s trade a…
I’m going to sell my iPod and buy a guitar I’m going to trade in my smartphone for a clue I’m going to ditch my computer and find a typewriter Maybe then, things won’t be quite so askew