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TimelessWavePoems
I, naive I believed that the break in the clouds Was the end of rain Thought those rays of sun weren't burning I was lying Myself in the grass, Asking if the tulip chutes in Anatolia Were the same sinking green I feel now Where were we? Love for a thousand spaces and bottling them into skins Wanted to touch and know deeply all beautiful things No you're not allowed, they don't want to let you in That way, it's a distant place and means too much to understand The biological and irrational Crazed, sweeps gregarity above and within an aether-- like milky foam upon the waves When I return home from excursions I will be Ipanema The soft locale, unabashed and known to no soul Except empty elevators-- The lowly philosopher-king Maybe then you'll think highly of me Through the mixed feelings Unable to handle Straight through the socket Ring of fire Then and only then will you realize That real life Is more than just a zone or some local Brewery on a Friday night And every other Friday night Ever thereafter-- You'll unlock the box of atomic intention And listen deeply to her on the station "Sade and Other Like Hits" Slowed down for full potential Letting your cochlea stroke themselves off to the tune of the universe And the sound of air moving indiscriminately Will give you All this Somewhere almost fractal, imbibed Decimated repetitively There is a fragment of my voice, Calling "Love, how much I'd love to be. "
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Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
Odysseus, pt 2
I, naive I believed that the break in the clouds Was the end of rain Thought those rays of sun weren't burning I was lying Myself in the grass, Asking if the tulip chutes in Anatolia Were the same sinking green I feel now Where were we? Love for a thousand spaces and bottling them into skins Wanted to touch and know deeply all beautiful things No you're not allowed, they don't want to let you in That way, it's a distant place and means too much to understand The biological and irrational Crazed, sweeps gregarity above and within an aether-- like milky foam upon the waves When I return home from excursions I will be Ipanema The soft locale, unabashed and known to no soul Except empty elevators-- The lowly philosopher-king Maybe then you'll think highly of me Through the mixed feelings Unable to handle Straight through the socket Ring of fire Then and only then will you realize That real life Is more than just a zone or some local Brewery on a Friday night And every other Friday night Ever thereafter-- You'll unlock the box of atomic intention And listen deeply to her on the station "Sade and Other Like Hits" Slowed down for full potential Letting your cochlea stroke themselves off to the tune of the universe And the sound of air moving indiscriminately Will give you All this Somewhere almost fractal, imbibed Decimated repetitively There is a fragment of my voice, Calling "Love, how much I'd love to be. "
#i#dont#know#what#to#think#of#you#just#make
TimelessWave
Written by
TimelessWave
M/San Francisco, CA
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
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