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"waypoints" poems
my front porch is a broken candelabra lights that used to form a pattern now waypoints for sore eyes to wander in upheaval there’s something in the driveway if i ask nicely it’ll take us nowhere every friday and i run my hand along the wall fixtures with the wall switches on but still in the dark maybe watch the strange weather effect panes of glass and i do that monday tuesday wednesday thursday saturday and sunday sometimes i listen to the thing in the drive tick never turn if i need to get out ya know see **** thats what i do see **** lots of it
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
****
Light on my eye. sunlight's glinting rays exposing  rainbows   rippling shards of lucency impinge my visions cells prismatic spears waypoints to  atomic levels of our universe colours translate to frequencies percieved the pervading energy  a maze of  tunnels scintillating , all is a thundering ubiquitous rumble, the voice of god? the thought distracts and manifests as it and gone.
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Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 4:40 AM UTC
Untitled
before you know it you have set up a world of selves and others where one of you – more often more – is bound to get hurt. the stories telling themselves apart. the whole remaining inconsequential. the body will not be accepted as easily as day gives itself up. treading the shifting waypoints the choices waysides of occasions of partials.
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
24/02/2016