9 WORDS AT ONCE

STARTLING

STARTING

STARING

STRING

STING

SING

SIN

IN

I

It Began With "Take Me Somewhere Nice"

day later

sun sinking slowly

whisping white clouds

striations across the near twilit sky

immortal in their very essence

silken gaze glossed over from afar

an insignificance hidden

how small we are

how far away we've gone

from what we were

to now who we are

an endless topographic split

pushing forward constant

leaving concrete and rust

a mar like sin

and from within

a deafening din

so loud it takes the point out of hearing

what do you listen for now

sirens and horns

fog no longer makes a sound

the spring peepers

to often drowned

and out

I am here, a part of it

no different, consumer

human

being

just being

...

my tiny view of the sky

from my second floor corner

sun falls to my back

I can look to the south

I will your image into my day

daily refuge

laying in this bed

recluse with nothing to do

a paddle in the corner

life jacket above

...

and now

"The Sun Smells Too Loud"

ironic, won't you think

I hoped to leave a message

and truer men may have done so

I meant to leave a mark

maybe people can see it

emblazoned on my own skin

resemblant of someone else

who I once was

who I am

who I will be

....

odd moments to craft an illusion

it still seems simple

in the aftermath of the mess

I will see my future

dangling from the edge of a broken tier in the home I can call my mind

...tangent

for the better good

the greater bad

the on and on

one

reverent to only thyself

I exist, I know this

I know you

you are all with me

existing in tandem

....

~~~~\___/~~~~

I need to canoe.

I can't wait :)

Life is better in the great outdoors

I feel the urge to climb a mountain

care to join?

until then

been so long since forever

so many days passed

turn into weeks

into months

never had I planned

just happened as always

a simple and obvious pattern

but to attempt and force makes even less sense

so when I can I will and that will be that

I feel prompted by her absence

my shining light is shining elsewhere

so in an ode to her love I write

seems cliché so I suppose I will pause

collect what thoughts I have

take some time to create order

out of habit but nonetheless

I have laundry to fold...

I wish I could have fresh laundry to put on every morning

so warm

I must sleep

it dawns on me that dawn is when I must rise

a day to dedicate thoughts into writing

my pen kept close and a pad for writing

a masterpiece I shall pen\

held to such high standards how can I fail?

in pen and on paper

I miss her so much

my Nicaraguan queen

I count down to her return

but not in haste

for time abroad is good for the soul

till tomorrow