#bluespoetry
Might we go outside
For a walk,
Hunting who knows
I'm news to you
On the go
And I'd like you to be
Next to me counting trees
We climb when we fall
And might we take it Soo
You can't run around
All these men's scattered frowns
Missing me in the morning breeze
I'd like us to go awhile
Swimming in the meadows kinda wild
So im news to you on the go
And your sleeping dew in the know
Take your time on the slides
Summers not her
But come outside
We'll hunt who knows who
And climb till we fall
This time we'll both be playing sad
Cuz that's not all
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 5:59 PM UTC
All she wants is to be inside
The city of Locked doors
There is too many types of cold to escape.
She doesn't want to die
He is no different and his voice is that of a grown man's.
He can't cast a shadow or he will be thrown out again.
He doesn't want to die
In the city of Locked doors
Neither have an escape from the silent darkness. The city passed a cost on their voices creating a type of science, paying other voices to control those locked out.
The locked out voices became an illness locked inside of the minds of those with no escape.
From the city of Locked doors
The summer burns in engine heat above the cement which never cools.
Now the test dummy has no air, falling limp, covered in exhaust fumes.
Fuming rage upon the televised madness.
To the city of no more
Who has the need of endless chatter besides the cold and exhausted escapee's from a place without asylum?
A city of locking doors
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 9:49 PM UTC
What lies between an intelligent quotient and a hint
A brand?
A fit?
Or a calculated bit
Informal infomaniacs
Hacking back on casket smack
Passed the dew dropping in on
a peaceful mind?
Spent is the overhang
Gone in the mourning
Becoming subjective in
Extended corrective measures?
Too late to digest in language
Goal rushed and repurposed
Ten gens separated in cursive
Obsolete ten day years ago
Now basking in fashion
As deposit shifts
Yes as deposit shifts, the lingo of epiphany eponymously conflicts
With the second hand in store
Now who did you borrow that for?
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 3:55 PM UTC
In what I grasp lay silence
The un-offered peace
Ten tin coins purchase favor
From the pain threshold is birthed poor persons
And inside our scattered moments
A godly residue
No less humility
Piousness haunts our outer bounds
The creative thought which counts
An eye to eye and voice in tuned relevance
I may as the winded springs bloom
And vocalize greetings new
A chirp from a word or resembling strung from a harp
Just to share apart of your tired lies
Knowing you wishes in brazen yellows screaming
Knowing you play on after catching me sampling a frown
In here distance from a shared bite to eat I learn each days ending
The revelation and commending accomplishments of a life more ordinary than my ten tin coins refunded
Really fun did create exchange
Thank you for exchanging time with me
Feb 22
Feb 22, 2026 at 10:14 PM UTC
Before and after narration
The pill enters me
When you're depressed
But two take to the depths
Entering blue
Discontent, even new
Another dissection of words
Abnormally herding
Being is per mutation
Adding to abstract frustration
The permanent say
Won't you hear
Won't we hear the gentle calm
Or staying fixed upon
The selfish endeavor, ejects
Wild that it's not plane to see
Taking it easy
You are degrees away
From this being simple
Add in you
From where
Tangent controls
Space remained
A range strange paint
Misuse strings
Rework clay
But leave the wind the same
Don't become the ketch
Where causality
Summation
And travesty
Half to have their say
Because in half of many remains
Consistent in the blame
Veers speech
We can't re reach
After narration
Feb 25
Feb 25, 2026 at 3:41 PM UTC