#murmurs
In murmurs we sank
dizzy minds torn out the day.
Then comes stillness,
as the breeze is heard,
variegated.
In beam treads autumn noon
Now the photographer laugh it out
Nothing seems to be captured
For she takes it
an overture.
“Why does the sun go on shining?”
An afternoon fervidity
of two thousands of miles
of away, of afar.
Where seaweeds stand no still,
a silhouette steers.
I turned down the tune.
Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 11:44 AM UTC
my words are empty murmurs to an old man,
who thinks his worth is more than mine.
the inferiority of my *** is inflicted by your tone.
one day you will be brought down from your high tower of injustice.
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 3:15 PM UTC
Contentment has a different kind of sound
To everyone who has ever witnessed it.
It fills the heart and settles the mind
And baffles those who have dismissed it.
Those canting people that cackled at us
Scowling, “Give up, it’ll never work.”
We smiled and continued our courtship
Not thinkng them a bunch of jerks.
We carried on, celebrating our successes
And learning from our many mistakes
And in time we began to see quite well
This is just what love and life takes.
We made our plans and changed them
When things didn’t go the right way.
And step by step, and inch by inch
We became who we are today.
Now we have sounds we make to each other
Less words, more loving noises we utter,
Salutations cobbled together over the years
Some remolded nicknames we often mutter
Glad we have walls around, roof above, and
Sounds made upon our leaving or returning,
And all is well here in our home of love
A message that the home fire is still burning.
A visitor might ask us, and have before
What did he say, or maybe, what did you?
I could explain the habits of our years
But no need. I heard and of course, I knew.
We often use the telescope of contentment
And look backward to where the sounds began
To watch them change through time and space
And become what they became over the span.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 12:46 AM UTC
My breathing becomes erratic and warm blood rushes to the tips of my ears as I remember you. You showed me the world from a clean, glass window. For a while, it was amazing. The view was impeccable and there wasn't a single flaw. But day after day of staring through that clean, glass window I began to panic. The window wouldn't let me break through, let me be free. You kept me under wraps and hid me from a world of untamable beauty and free spirited inhabitants. The clean, glass window was warped with your tainted perspective on a perfect world. I couldn't breathe around you, I was a fish out of water and you didn't mind. As I flailed around, you chuckled and said "it's okay." But it's not okay and you cause me nothing but heart murmurs and not the butterflies in my stomach type. The type that wretches my gut. You did nothing but hurt me when all I ever did was love you.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC