#penultimate
This summer, I’ve thought a lot,
About how I’m in a liminal standstill.
The crossroads of life,
Childhood to the left, and adulthood to the right.
Which way do I go?
I don’t have a choice.
The only way to go,
Is forward toward the void.
I must go on,
Listening to the songs that spark my envisioning,
Imagination bleeds into reality.
I must accept,
That there’s never enough time,
But that’s okay.
I’ll water her flowers and try not to complain,
Because she means the world to me.
The singer and the lyricist,
Moved on from their precipice,
Perhaps I can do the same.
I’ll rise, like a daisy,
Even when the world is feeling hazy.
I’ll remember what the Wendigo told me,
And what I learned from Dracula’s kidnapping.
It’s humbling to find,
That I’m at the world’s whim as much as it’s at mine.
Just a change in my paradigm.
I’ll make sure I won’t be like Vain,
Or like Russel, used for his brain.
I’ll overcome my fear and drive,
And leave my other fears behind.
Acne won’t entrap me forever,
There’s always another summer,
Though the heatwaves might be a ******
I’m all in,
Avoiding artificial interactions.
I’ll try to see what they see,
And overcome this anxiety.
Oh, what thoughts can be stirred from a monochromatic shade of grey,
But I’ll fight through the haze.
I’ve seen,
That the last summer of reprieve,
Is as much of an ending,
As it is a beginning.
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 7:23 PM UTC
Believe the monkey with the gun is not real reason to run.
Stand your ground,
and turn around, and cast a long shadow, as the sun goes down,
the life worth living lay still in the shade coming the other way,
as these rocks I live on glow a certain Baja rosy hue, impressive,
the way
peace remains, on rocks you return to often.
Choosing between long or short for the finale in the thousand
Dime Poems and Novel Mind Tuning Forks I have left here,
at this place in cyberspace where gifted witnesses of life,
appear to soar,
like eagles gathering to feast, while each leave a carcass,
some where, for late comers,
near the end. F' Art, art made by… I cannot imagine what,
could wish it otherwise, joy, empty or full, pulling in, or spewing
or spilling, all along the brim of our shared existance,
in these most interesting times, when no day is long enough,
and sleep is welcome, any time.
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 8:09 PM UTC
How do you come to accept
What you thought was the sun
Was really just a distant flame?
The warmth you felt
The light you saw
Wasn't real
Had you even felt warmth to begin with?
Seen light to come to such a conclusion?
I'd always used to prance in that light
Waltz and lay in its warmth
But when I realised it wasn't what I wanted
It wouldn't satisfy me like it used to
What is it like to stand in the sun's rays?
Have it pierce the deepest core of your heart?
Would the world around you need to change?
Or would you need to be out of it...
Floating, sinking
Reaching, receding
Closing my eyes
Wishing for
The warmth of the Sun
To reach the depths of my heart and
Emit a glow from within
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 11:31 AM UTC