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361 · Aug 2018
Cluttered Mind
Josephine Wild Aug 2018
Confusion emits laughter.
I laugh it off and move on.

I'm driven to discover
new tools that amuse
my brain to function,
to thrive,
to move.

Daydreams are abused.
Stabbing thoughts shift my mood.

Fresh dew departs grey eyes.
Countless thoughts
prove sterile.

Confused.
Time continues. Nothing moves.

I'm driven to discover
new tools to amuse.

Looking for answers.
Eyes comb through
pages of news,
info and clues.

Time drives and flies by.
It is lost in my mind.
283 · Nov 2023
I am
Josephine Wild Nov 2023
I'm not a family.
I'm not a ranch.
I'm not a mother.

I am grace.
I am strength.
I am beauty.

I'm not wealthy.
I'm not the smartest.
I'm not the tidiest.

I am determined.
I am creative.
I am good.
219 · Jun 2022
Spring
Josephine Wild Jun 2022
Robins fly and the river churns.
Snowmelt meets gravity.
Pulling sun rays down to earth.

Time to relax.
Time to mind.

All is quiet.
All is over.
All is relaxed.

Time to open.
Time to begin.
202 · Aug 2018
Lose My Mind
Josephine Wild Aug 2018
I left to travel for a lost love.
Up front and up right,
there was no trouble in sight.
I prayed to rise above
to rise above the flesh.
I lost.
I look above.
Lost.
Again.
Yearning to taste it.
Excited.
I can't escape it.
I lost my mind.
I can no longer take it.
Emotional struggle.
185 · Aug 2018
Over My Life
Josephine Wild Aug 2018
No sense to invest.
Reality check!
Settle.
That feels best...
Check my mind.
Have the ducks align.
Obey the patterns.
Suffer time.
Life crisis
154 · Jan 2023
Bids
Josephine Wild Jan 2023
Everyone is offering bids for connection.
Yes,
of heart and mind.
But if we just loved everyone,
We’d all be just fine.
146 · Jan 2023
Stella
Josephine Wild Jan 2023
Rows of lights in rows of three.
Rows like the stars,
the stars around Mars.
I am made of the stars.
Josephine Wild Apr 2023
When I see quite the quiet quail,
I quiver.

When I spot the proud peacock prancing,
I ponder.

When I hear the wonderful warbling of the wood warbler,
I wander.

When I feel the reclusiveness of the rail,
I remember.

When you retreat into the reeds,
I reset.

When in Reason’s nest,
my mind may rest.

You were a feather in the wind,
when I
was the young breeze
beneath your tired wings.
Josephine Wild Jan 2023
I love you like I love the color green, wading birds, and vegan things.

I love you like I enjoy a herd of deer, collecting seashells and drinking beer.

I love you the way I adore grocery stores, and single track.

I wish that you could love me back.
107 · Nov 2023
Enlightened in Nature
Josephine Wild Nov 2023
What’s so interesting about the upright working man?

What’s so impressive and worthy of history
just sitting at a desk from 9 to 5?

That life is for the birds!!

Life is so much more than that!

Life is right here, right now!

Sitting on a log with feet feeling the sand. It’s so cool
and silky smooth.

Shadows casting down from leaves and limbs overhead in the breeze. A natural animation.

How foolish we are! We throw so much away
to work for a dime.

This earth is priceless and our time is finite.
We can’t buy more time. The present moment is all we have!

No, I’m not gaining any monetary wealth by sitting in the woods,
but this moment is worth so much more
than what money can buy.

So, why care if I’m poor? I’ll always have the wilderness.
Isn’t that what we’re here for?
Why do we keep trying to escape it? It’s so wonderful.

Man, the good life is here! Just let nature nature.
Good reason
and good human nature.

No need for meat, for ***, for beef.
No need for opinions.
No need for passion.

None of those fleshy desires are required
to live the good life.

Being good is the spice of life!
Virtue should be the only desire.
105 · Nov 2023
NICE TO MEAT YOU
Josephine Wild Nov 2023
“To beef…or not to beef?”
The words of an enthusiastic
Italian butcher.

In our cognitive dissonance,
we know it’s a vice.
That fleshy desire for flesh.

It just hits different, right?
The chewiness of meat.
Its unique savoriness.

There’s nothing like it.

In the moment, there’s nothing better.
It arouses the senses.
It leaves us wanting more.

How ironic this iron-laden food is.
Heme iron, that is.
Something we need for our own flesh.

Bovine flesh fed on iron-rich grass.
Thriving until dead…
by the rancher’s hand.

Leafy heme is clean.
But meaty heme tastes the best…
Just only in the moment.

Moments after the moment,
fatigue falls upon us.
Then remorse repeats itself.

Time after time,
it corrodes arteries
from the inside.

Indulging in a little death,
we briefly feel alive,
but ultimately lose our spirit.

It’s like a carnal sin that we celebrate.
Carnival:
Farewell to meat.

Then we repent.

Then we meet.

Then we repeat.
92 · Jun 2022
In The Clouds
Josephine Wild Jun 2022
My pining continues
For a close, tender touch.

Running continuously,
Growing indifferent.
Running hopeless, yet
Growing stronger.

Looking up skyward
My worries dissolve.
My thoughts - drifting clouds.

I thirst to evolve -
Grasping for that inner calm.
65 · Jan 22
Forgetting to Lose
Listen, love. Move down. Sleep over.
My love’s in doubt, down home, all over.
Forget my age. Move down. Move over.

Down inside, I doubt my love.
Move over.
I quickly forget down inside.
Quickly I am loosed.
Picking home I forget you over.
Instantly doubting down inside.

Picking home, I forget you over.
Loving home, I take ages to load.
Forgetting to lose. Move over.

Quickly forgetting down inside.
Forgetting to lose. Move over.
I go down quickly.
Quickly forgetting to lose.
I move down quickly. Move over.
Written 2014
57 · Jan 22
Poetic State of Mind
Get in it.
Just lost for thoughts
Because I can.
Dream I can.
Don't think I can
But write I can
And flow.
Don't think.
Don't think at all.
Relax
And breathe.
You're here
Alone and thinking.
Grasping for air.
Air so cloudy
An overbearing tension rising.
Looming over thought.
Threatening to rain and flood.
Tearing down.
To drown.
Loving to swim. To float.
To breathe
calming
thoughts.
Written June 13, 2018
I am "Josephine Wild."
I am 24 years old.
I am an artist.
I have a false sense of reality.
I wake up.
I work.
I pray.
And I eat.
Then I sleep.

I see things like design and shape.
I focus on the details.
I look at typefaces and fonts.
I like to work.
To make.
To create.
Day after day,
this is what I do.

I am never finished.
I date things
because I lose track of time.
Time is against me.

I make believe.
I make believe
because I am a child.
A child I am.
I live at home.
I sleep in the same room.
I sleep in the same bed.
I have toys and figurines.
I collect them.
They always stay the same.

I am easily distracted.
I like to escape.
I like to be alone
with my thoughts.
I am an artist.
I am weird.

I like people too.
They are beautiful
in that each
are unique
and their own.
It's nice to connect
with people.
But then
you don't want them to go.
I am alone.
I become cold.

In my own little world,
I am trapped.
I make it harder than it has to be.
My life isn't easy,
but it's a gift.
Life wouldn't be great
if it was so easy.
I'm easy to get along with,
but hard to understand.

I like music.
I like to sing.
The music I like doesn't need words.
I need words.
I search for them.
I need them quicker
than they can come.

I try my best.
I'm not perfect.
I have my faults.
I cling onto people.
I forget
to swallow my pride.

I don't think things through
or leave my comfort zone.
I don't want to cause problems.
I yearn to change.
I am changing my heart.
This was written 11 years before learning I am autistic.

— The End —