Is my favorite day.
Because I watch the
w o r l d
wake up.
I watch as the orange-yellow sun peeks across the horizon,
spilling molten gold over the rooftops and treetops,
brushing them with soft, shimmering light.
The sky slowly trades its indigo for watercolor blues and pinks,
as if someone is gently washing the dark away with a wide, patient brush.
I listen as the birds rejoice,
their songs threading through the cool morning air like bright ribbons.
The damp earth still smells of night—
fresh grass, cool soil, and the faint sweetness of dew resting on each blade.
A thin mist hangs low over the ground,
curling around fence posts and drifting lazily between the trees.
I sit, quietly enjoying this time.
My mug warms my hands,
and little clouds of steam rise and vanish into the pale morning.
The world feels hushed and tender,
as if it’s taking a deep breath before the day truly begins.
Before long, a river of cars will flow by heading to church,
their headlights blinking like fireflies fading in the growing light.
Doors will open, voices will float across the street,
and the calm will slowly ripple into motion.
My neighbor will walk his dog,
the leash a thin line between them,
paws tapping softly on the waking pavement.
And I will sit and watch on this beautiful
s u n d a y,
while the sky stretches fully awake—blue and bright and endless.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 8:01 PM UTC
Apart from you
is torture—
Ten days
stretch like ten winters,
clocks dragging their feet
through empty rooms.
My computer glows
with your name,
a small sun
I orbit all day,
waiting
for your voice
to cross the miles.
I press myself
into my pillow
and breathe in,
imagining its you.
I'm
counting heartbeats
instead of hours.
Soon
this ache will soften
into your arms again—
but tonight
the sky feels bigger
than it should,
and all I can think is:
ten days
is far too long
for one heart
missing another.
Mar 30
Mar 30, 2026 at 7:59 PM UTC
She's Like Bubble Gum
She's like bubble gum
I take her out of the wrapper
Put her in my mouth
Chomp down
It tastes good at first
There's no denying that
The taste is wonderful
It's sugary and sweet
There are new touches of sweetness that I can savor
I swoosh it around in my mouth
I blow a big bubble
And I then hear her pop
There's no better sound
Than to hear that pop
It's a thrill
Then, after a while
The taste looses it's sweetness
It becomes a chore
I swoosh it around my mouth
It seems rudimentary
Not complimentary
I blow a big bubble
It doesn't pop
It lost its flavor
I then take the bubble gum
Look at it for the last time
Toss it out into the wind
And let someone else step on it
It's that easy
There's more bubble gum to unwrap
Baby out there is thinking what the heck
Is he talking about
She's right
She's still in the wrapper
Freshly minted
Gift wrapped
Waiting to arrive, I bet
Baby out there is thinking what the heck
Is he talking about
She's right
I'm just having fun,
dreaming
Mar 24
Mar 24, 2026 at 7:42 AM UTC
Alysha Liu started climbing the highest mountain, starting when she was five, and fifteen years later, she reached the top.
Starting at an early age, the seed was planted in a dream, and was nourished, cultivated, and strengthened through the years of grueling practices, a pause at 16, a hesitation, and then an about-face. Today, she is an Olympic Champion in figure skating. And deservingly so.
Her family, especially her dad, was in front.
But nature had her back.
She blended with the elements. So free spirited as the wind. So radiant as the sun. So mysterious and exotic as the moon.
Alysha won prettily in Italy.
She carried herself well in a golden sequin dress, with a golden halo hairdo, and those sparkling golden eyes. She was more than cute. She was golden, wholesome, and real. And she skated to perfection.
She made the US proud, crowd and loud over her accomplishments. And deservedly so
And her family, fans, and freedom absolutely adore her.
There will be other winners. But there will be none like Alysha, bunny-hopping "her way" to her coaches after her performance, where her warmth and good vibes touch everyone along the way that is watching as she greets her coaches--- all with tears of joy in their eyes.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 1:33 PM UTC
The Sixth Grade Bully Lost
We were kids
That took the low road
Growing up
On the edge
Of the sword
Bullying other school kids
And breaking the rules
It was dark
Cold-hearted pursuit
To cause pain
To these kids
Stealing their lunchtime monies
Homework, clothes, and shoes
Like puppets
Stripped of dignity
Their strings pulled
And life's tugged
They followed that lowest road
Throughout that sixth grade
They shoplift
Stole fishing hooks for the hood
Rods and reels
Food and snacks
And condoms just for practice
Their faces were sad
Years later
Gray, old, and dusty
I ask why
What reason
Was there to tear on their youth
And leave this world scarred
logan robertson
3/17/26
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 1:33 PM UTC
The Sixth Grade Bully Lost
We were kids
That took the low road
Growing up
On the edge
Of the sword
Bullying other school kids
And breaking the rules
It was dark
Cold-hearted pursuit
To cause pain
To these kids
Stealing their lunchtime monies
Homework, clothes, and shoes
Like puppets
Stripped of dignity
Their strings pulled
And life's tugged
They followed that lowest road
Throughout that sixth grade
They shoplift
Stole fishing hooks for the hood
Rods and reels
Food and snacks
And condoms just for practice
Their faces were sad
Years later
Gray, old, and dusty
I ask why
What reason
Was there to tear on their youth
And leave this world scarred
logan robertson
3/17/26
Mar 17
Mar 17, 2026 at 2:57 PM UTC
Polly never wanted a *******
She wanted a key
Just wanted out
Of her cage, to be free
Polly had a pretty song,
sang it soft, sang it wrong.
Candy colors, bedtime lies,
sleepy stars and watching eyes.
They said the world was nice and fair,
brush your doll’s soft plastic hair.
Close your eyes, be good, behave,
don’t ask questions, just be brave.
A man named Gerald, last name Friend,said, “I’ll keep you safe till the end.”
Funny joke, a silly lie
friends don’t make you want to die.
Hush now, Polly, don’t make noise,
broken girls are quiet toys.
Pink bow, shaking hands,
learning things you didn’t plan.
The walls were close, the room too small,counting cracks instead of dolls.
Sing your song, don’t scream, don’t fight,morning doesn’t mean alright.
They teach the girls from very young:
hold your keys, bite your tongue.
Don’t go out, don’t stay too late,
fear is just a “girl” trait.
Polly’s song is slow and sweet,
sticky like old candy treats.
Sounds like playtime, sounds like fun,
ends before it’s really done.
Now she lives in every street,
every girl with careful feet.
All of the innocence in the world
The ones who’s words are never heard
That got destroyed when he “scored”
And every no that was ever ignored
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 7:00 PM UTC
My pulse is at a hundred, though I stay controlled.
To fill the void, I go where no one goes.
As Bill Harford, I walk past every line,
Until the fear begins to feel like mine.
It’s Black Mirror, but there’s no time ahead.
This isn’t fiction — it’s now instead.
The rest have faded, quietly erased.
No trace, no reason to be replaced.
Except —
Well, some flames linger, no matter the cold.
Too flawless, too radiant — reborn, eyes wide open.
Like Snow’s at the Wall.
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 12:35 PM UTC
Everyone told me life was hard but it's a piece of cake
All you have to do is bend yourself until you break
Compartmentalize yourself for someone else's sake
And they call it compromise, the bitter give and take
They don't teach college classes on shrinking yourself down
But if they did I'd look so small in my cap and gown
I think I would disappear before I left this town
Just another fleck of dirt that blends into the ground
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 12:35 PM UTC
You’re like the moon to me,
so beautiful and real.
You shine such a wonderful, bright light
on my drab and humdrum days...
In the blackness of night
you’re a cherished light
that fills the void in my heart
as well as in my life.
Your brightness seems
so close to me and yet,
you are beyond my reach,
a world away.
I’m mesmerised by your revealing beauty
and I sing of my heart’s desire for you,
howling through the nights we share.
You are the moon to me, so I must love you from afar.
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 12:33 PM UTC