Rosemary spotted a big rat in the water
Her Momma wasn't particularly impressed with her finding
Rain drops hung on their waxy, pink skin
In the rain they looked like two rain-hammered flowers

All around them was muck

The boy came sploshing through the floody water
The scrawny thing was shivering and he-
Embraced her Momma
Her Momma let him join her under the umbrella
(And there was on her Momma lips a big Momma smile)
Rosemary was quick-she saw that he'd bent his head
And was burrowing... burrowing between her Momma's legs
He pulled down his shorts; his little bums were saggy
Rosemary hated her Momma for standing dumb and dumbly gasping
She hit the boy on the back of his kitten head
And clawed off a slice of his peachy ***
(Still he clung to her Momma, like a half-shaved dog)
And then she said:
'I know your parents. I'm gonna tell'em'
That drained all glee from his fiendish mien
He stood there for a moment before he pulled his tee over head
And when he was gone, Rosemary let her *** pass down her legs
(As she often did in the rain)

as though in a dream not to fall
as if in a dream do not fall
as though in a dream it will not fail
as though to not know in a dream
as if in a dream not to drown

and in fact there was darkness and lava
and the evenings consisted of luminaries
but there were lakes and stars
who were drowning somewhere there
where there is a strange and strange

as though in a dream not to fall
as if in a dream not to drown
but is not the dream now a dream
but life is not a dream unless why
you are in my dream my face in a dream

17.08.18

What did you do?
What did you see?
How did you end up
inside a tree?

Were you a spy?
A harlot? A witch?
Or the victim of a mad-man
scratching an itch?

Tell me lady,
what was your story?
Who was after
your Hand of Glory?

Why were you taken,
from this mortal realm?
Who put Bella
in the Wych-Elm?

I was once alone walking on a lonely wet road.
And there I spotted a golden-red toad.
It began jumping as I walked, I thought it followed me
And suddenly he said "where else would I be?"

The voice struck my mind, I started panting.
A toad talking to a human? Never heard of such a ranting.
So I stopped walking, assuming that he won't.
But I could hear him in my mind saying "please don't".

I know this voice, I am freaked out.
He said "you know my name, I'm the one you cried out..."
Is he really talking to me or I'm just talking to myself.
Can't really think now as he winks that glassy-eye at myself.

I was sleepy, felt deluded, I think I started talking ghost.
He continued"...for you're the only one who loved me the most"
As I listen to all this, I felt I was about to faint.
"I'm sorry for all those dreams that I taint.".

I want wisdom o so much.
Please tell me where it can be found.
It's the type of treasure I cannot clutch
or dig for underground.
Should I dig into books to find the gold?
If so, which book is the one?
Even if I read it every day till I'm old,
by then would my search be done?
Who are the wisest men on Earth?
What is it that they would know?
Before they all die, it would be so worth
learning where their wisdom will go.
I really want to find the truth
and nail life on the head.
Can I live wise from the time of my youth
till the day I find myself dead?

I lay here watching
Which layers are spinning...
And what direction?
My mind dissects the clouds
Like a fog being burned by sunlight...
During the late morning.

This pattern above me
Rather pleasing... yet confusing...
I'm on the right,
I find it yielding left...

There's designs I can't name
Animals I can make...
Yet they all run away as I move
And the clouds spin trails...
Watching them evolve
Like a lifelong time lapse.

The drawn up moisture....
The streams of steam condensed...
Swirled and forged into cotton-like pillows of uncertainty.
The colors are the Indicators of moods
The light and mysterious
White and normal
Green and envious of the oncoming destruction
Black and gray depicting ends of sunshine filled days...

The life underneath grows, quivers, and in series of decays...
Some offer condensed clouds as flavored swirls in mugs...
But I rather watch the ones that love
Carrying wind and rain...
Have swirls of their own and a Name.

Though subject of objections
The will of nature has a forge...
To churn this stream of water around
Like spun sugars of cotton candy.
Much like a carnival, life is a surprise
An unyielding wild ride.

Directions are unclear
If i will be here
I have watched the life of
The swirl in this giant mug
Smack the coastlines with giant hugs...
Some rough love...

Though oddity
Have you seen what clouds can do
When spun around oak trees?