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gray rain May 2016
I was thinking about my future 
and what I want to do
but I found I have no interests 
strong enough to hold on to.
Wrote this yesterday but couldn't post it
Finding no pleasure in daily routines
Surprisingly treasured by the machines
Reminding you it's just the status quo
And part of the life in which we all grow,

Unsatisfied with droll simplicities,
You might indulge in distant fantasies-
Magnified on a world you set apart
From the forgotten one others have wrought.

An escape is often necessary,
But you can't forget where you still remain,
Though time you spend in either world's nary
Going to keep you entirely sane.

These choices you make are arbitrary-
Hopefully, you'll still be kept entertained.
AfterImage Jan 2016
I am barely surviving on a thread of superficial interest and the minute that expires I feel like I will too. And the list of my interests is getting shorter and shorter.
The stories
I once liked,
The sites
I once browsed,
The drawings
I once admired,

All slowly

f a d i n g  

f  r  o  m  

t  h  e  

n   a   r   r   o   w  

s    c    o    p    e  

o     f  

m      y  

m       i       n       d       .           .                .                   .
Alan S Bailey Oct 2015
On this morning the sun rises,
And I leave my new bed.
I get up and go outside and the sun is warm on my head,
Oh the warmth. There are green hills in the distance.
I go to the tree and behold the blueness of the sky
And watch the sun rise as clouds are forming.
All is still and overhead a prairie bird flies.
There is a great field of wheat beyond me.
I lie down and relax staring up into eternity,
And I am already used to this.
I look up smiling and I can really see.
I wind up staying like this for life,
And I’ll never go back,
Back to my way of life before this field of grass I lay on.
It's all a vast encounter with nature.
It teaches me to release my fears and troubles to her.
As the golden sun warms my face, all I see is you.
And as its warmth enters my chest and warms my core,
I feel you in that warmth,
Her summer's beginning.
Dornish Bastard Oct 2015
I wonder how others like their music
While I try to listen to every element of a song
Dissecting the cacophony of sounds
Appreciating what I didn't hear before
Do they dance when I lie in the dark?
Do they just listen or sing along?

I wonder what stories others enjoy
While I read a book over and over again
Excitedly the first time, rushing to the end
Slowly the second, savoring every sentence.
Do they like fiction? True stories?
Do they like to tell them or to listen?

I wonder (with amusement) what others do with their ideas
While I put them into the poems I write
Cursing my vocabulary for failing me
Struggling to find words every **** time
Do they post them on social media? Write in journals?
Do they keep them in their own minds?

Are they like me somehow?
I find that multiple revisions makes me drift further and further from the initial inspiration so I'll just leave this here. Hahaha.
Mokomboso Jul 2014
Just one moment passed in time, a split second ticked by
something's changed...
My brain it tingles, something's sparked inside my mind
Was it the way the teacher taught me? The facts delivered to me?
Something has struck a cord within me, and I'm hooked
All my life before feels pointless, I did everything wrong
My passions have changed to something worth my time, this time

I rush home with a spring in my step, the autumn cold penetrates all but myself
I'll dive on my bed, open the laptop, switch it on
learn all I can, dig deeper for the core and branch out more
videos, images, articles, merchandise
my elation grows as the weeks pass by, I look forward to going home
All on my own, wasting my intellect on the activity alone

I'm sorry if I bore you, I don't mean to ignore you
I'm excited and frankly I've no intention to stop
I will rant and rave and sing the hymns
of my religious obsession, like a rabid televangelist
you'll never get how I feed on my fixations
they make me happier than even my own friends
They are my bread and butter

I'm predictable in my unpredictability
whatever next, when will I take my next life step
it's my favourite band, my favourite film, favourite book, favourite creature
it's a subject most curious, it's my talent, my skill
whatever form it takes it's forever my best friend, my consistent shapeshifter
and the old loves never truly leave me, it's an amicable breakup
forever in my heart it resides, old flames join new flings when things are getting quiet
I don't know how I'd survive without obsession in my life
Most folk's lives seem boring, they have holes where passions lack

It could be days, it could be years
one day that tingling feeling will happen once again
a new fixation forms...
I have a tendency to obsess over favourite subjects, to the point where my brain has no room to focus on anything else.

— The End —