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The aesthetic of
Ink on paper
And floral words
Leaving my cracked and bleeding lips
“Read between the lines”
But there is nothing between, or underneath
No secret message, hidden code,
Or meaning
Sweep to the center of the room,
My brain, the state I live in,
All the junk; collect it in a pile,
And sweep it out the front door.
To see the world
Through the frame of words
The moon in the sky
Above ponderosa pines
This scent in the air
Of the rain and wind
To catch and pin
The world to the page
great people die by making no fuss,
ordinary people cry and make out fuss,
but let us not make any of the either,
No flood of tears too.
Earthquakes bring up destruction,
and men calculate deaths,
Poem poem poem poem.
Poem.
[Tick tock]
Hmmmmmmmmmmm.
Oh whatever shall I write?
Like a garden words form,
and the weeds are overtaking
but through the soil, a "yes" is finally breaking.
No contest!
No seriously, this is not a contest.
I am entering a random drawing
by adding my thoughts and words in exchange for money.
(Curtain rises on an empty stage) -Act 1, Scene 1-"Action!"
Hello, I have something to say before I sleep below.
