water holds no memory, my dear you'll forget about me tomorrow but i won't the wholeness of my being encapsulated in your body of water will stain the blanket of my memory like coffee-stained bedsheets at 2 in the morning too intoxicated with slumber to clean the mess and so i just leave it there body draped across the bed with a mind and soul aching to rest.
i have taken sight of her in all of her forms every corner and curve and i have never seen anything so implicitly beautiful in my entire existence i have seen her with outstretched arms receive the drizzling tears the rain bleeds out on a sunday morning i have seen her body draped across the horizon basking in the warmth of the unforgiving april sun i have seen her blush at the sight of rosy pink skies cascading on her cheeks i have heard her sing when the zephyrs brush the strings of her eyelids.
the first time and all the times after, this encounter, i will tuck it safely in the pockets of my memory until death calls for my last breath.
i was so happy writing this mygod u should've seen the early morning rain at the creek where u could see the myriad of ripples the rain sheds on the still waters at 6 am it was so pretty rahhhasdasdjhk
I adventured to the woods by one of the middle schools in my small town. Krueger outdoor environmental science center. It was towards the beginning of the end of a normally lengthy winter so there was still plenty of snow to cover most of the ground. Plenty of birds talking in their chirp language and plenty of rodents footprints from playing in the snow that covered the wooded foundation of earth. I found my way to a frozen little pond where it comes just off the creek to its own little basin of water. I slid on the solid ice and had my fun just like the free little bunnies, squirrels, and whatever land animals resides in these beautiful woods. I could tell they had their fun on the ice play land too because I could see the image of their tracks imprinted in what snow was laying on the face of the ice. There’s a decent sized dam at the start of the trail right next to the creek I was walking, what a relaxing view it was with the sound of the water rushing down it like a waterfall to the continuing side of the miles long creek. I came to a little divot in the trail where a small slanted hill dips down into the creek and it’s chilled water. I sat here on this hill to write this piece while the sun shines down directly on me keeping me warm and comfy while writing. Such a peace defining moment where you get to notice every little detail of the extraordinary nature life we’re given to observe and experience. The way pieces of tree bark, little sticks, leaves, and sediment float atop the creek water going whichever direction the drift carries them. The smell of damp dirt as I rubbed my hands in it to remember what it was like to be a kid and not care to play in the earth. More so just to be human, to be a mammal and bring myself one with the crusted surface and connect with the earth that homes my body and soul. There was a huge doe and buck playfully frolicking across the creek side I was sitting from; I only noticed them at first because they made their loud exhales of breath to communicate they were there. Either that or they were just breathing so heavy from playing and running for so long with each other aha. They must’ve knew I was friendly and wanted to give me a sight to look at and what a euphoric moment it was to enjoy the picture of them playing together. I went to get a closer look at the water and maybe dip my hands in it. I failed to notice how muddy the hill was and almost lost my footing in the sludge as I went down and barely escaped taking a swim in the freezing cold creek! While I was at the bottom of the hill I washed the mud off my hands from catching myself by palming the grime and not letting myself slip down any further. I know the birds got a kick out of watching me struggle not to take a dive into that ice cold water that I was so frantically trying to stay out of! =‘D I had to drop my phone just to stay on land and when I picked it up I noticed there was mud all over the casing of it! I wiped it off on my sweatshirt that I had already gotten mud all over the sleeve of from plunging to my elbows and hands and just kept writing. Or typing, whichever you want to call it on these cellular devices. After I sat there and soaked in the moment that nurtured my indulging senses for a while I simply got up and continued to the end of this trail. Then I back tracked through the trail and took some more time to go ice skating in my normal shoes. I followed my own footprints back onto the trail that I veered off of to find the little frozen over pond and went for a jog back to my warm cozy home and published this piece of simple writing explaining my adventurous and funny morning I had. Never forget to do this when you have free time from responsibility and the reality society in America has created for this generation. Explore your youthful intuition and let nature be one of the best friends you could ever ask for!
Nature walk in the trails of the wild things’ home
The sun is hot this summer Like it was last summer It's too hot to play indoors Let's don trunks and sandals For our journey to Turtle Rock, It's not too far a walk.
Wild carrots grow along hot asphalt We're chewing Queen Anne's lace The journey offers time to talk We talk and walk at our own pace I see Mosby Creek through the trees, We're getting near the place
Cruise down the path Rotten egg's always last! We're barefoot before the first bend Look out, leaves of three! Poison oak let us be! Lay down our towels We're here my friend
Me first! Dibs! I call the rope swing! I shout, jumping over that tranquil spot Y'know the one, where you go over the creek, Because of that awkward rock I grab the rope, run round to the edge And launch myself sidewards right off the ledge! Ker-plunk! Time to swim, Summer's here, life begins.
I wrote this about the swimming hole down the road from where I grew up. It hit 80° the other day, time to hit the creeks. ~2009
today i feel like putting a gun to my temple colt .45 ravaged my cranium only so i don't have to go to temple no more sins i need to have confessed polished sleek glock; my prayer ejected through the chamber PULL THE TRIGGER -- FUCKN PULL IT MAN!! hold on, the last time i come to terms with contraband am i filled with love, joy, despair or anger? all i need is my reverend spirit to unclothe its self i no longer succumb to the falsity of needing to have impressed
cut the gesture man you just be playing chicken but when i quit playing you'll hear me squawk one shot you'll know i've been stricken farmer Joe tell him this is his last wake-up call and that bright light in the mornin bruh we all know sunrises don't last for a split second
POP! muuu fckkkaaa
really it's a rooster that squawks in the morning i feel better one way in one way out baby
soft blonde hair plush kisses on my cheek fingers tracing circles at the edge of the creek confessions and blushing cheeks wiping tears fixing the leaks lips on skin gentle heat a warm summer day with a love so sweet