Truths and small talk

 Wander around the periphery. Never give up on those footsteps, Their way through any given morning. Glimpse the way it moves.

Rewire my mind.
Taste the connection.
Push everything away.
State how unknown it all is.
Life is love is learning too.
All of those things so true.
Needs or wants, life as pretend.
Eyes meet is all the honesty there is.
Addictions driven by delirious dreams.
Quiet politeness reveals nothing of inner storm.
Shyness rarely broken.
Forbidden eye contact.
Deep truth through some soft surface.
Every affection and service.
The physical person undiscovered.
Excited or bored with personal information.
Provide perfect icebreaker. We only share silence.
So be it.

The Commuters Crisis

Sense of together
Rush tests patience
Streets are days
Vans and trucks run hours by

Blue smoke gushes
daylight combustion

Urgency spreads yoga armas and legs
Traffic jams in every direction
The mind is a distracted goose chase
Through smog and laughter and backfiring motorbikes

Garages have undergound arms
The boom gate keeps you out you are empty handed.

Impulsive horn violent imposing
Burst into well timed tears of a person burning out
Heated temples rapid heartbeat unable to hug themselves
The greenlight shines down accelerate only to break

Catatonic in the queue

 

Desire to sleep in ultimate peace
Long to bathe in tomorrow's sun
Many seek to reconnect themselves
Attempting to love but falling for need

Offer presents of favors
Specific things you wished
Just to get you to notice
Before you turn away again

Mysteries seem to make everything bigger
Mute when the day demanded a voice
Dismissive when attention was needed
All prefer love, all prefer to be known

Each person carrying their hearts like containers
Lining up infront of the same unavailable shops
Falling asleep in the queue
Dreaming of this ideal person

Some graffiti the walls
Some attempt to break windows
But they don't break they just look outward
Like eyes surveying these desperate people

Am I free to leave this line?
Will I linger the way you imagined?
Do you smirk from the inside?
Do you tease me pointing at the locked door?
Or feed me with subtle smiles and turns of the head?

A live mannequin behind the thick glass
More alive than I and the empty wanting people
Shaping the scenery with the grace in your gesture
Sleeping bags roll out night chill arrives
Some consider losing their place in line

Turning back to the candle light on the otherside of the glass
Supercharging their fantastic fantasies
They sit or lay there in the queue
Shutting eyes and entering sleep
While I stare through the window catatonic

Mountain drifter

 The path seems narrow
rocky and uncertain
There is a crutch under my right shoulder
I have been using it for the steeper climbs
and to support my injured leg

Following this path this vein
Around the mountain
I trust it gets me there
To That place i've dreamed
For now just trudge

Or is this the place
This narrow track
Stoney and uneven
Yet on this path i can stop
I build sticks and stoke

Berries grow at knee height
Here the mountain protects me from the south wind
Maybe I need to build it right here
Where few monsters dare to climb
There is no material, will i live in a cave?

There are few trees and I have no tools
What must I do

Groceries and heatwaves in winter

 The heat wafted through the carpark
Blasted faces as we exited
Exit routine
Exit ourselves

Put overfilled bags down on bench
Sweat beads join to blind
Then the overbright haze
clumsy woman leaves cart

Eyes meet disdain glows
But is lost in the shimmer
Hands wrap around the handles
pulling it all up its too heavy

The car pulls up
The man inside has taught himself to be happy
He doesn't recieve requests from anyone
But we ask him which is it

but the answer doesn't come
There is no satifaction
The heat spoke and said
Hold onto your burdens 

The line between life and death

 Yesterday was beautiful
That was the day i died
yeah, it was incredible
But now it seems a hundred years ago
Is it?
Has it been that long?
From my death realm I touch the present
And see within the bubble a present that is not mine
As if time has accelerated since I life earth
As if things just kicked off once I left

And the clicking sound the my finger makes
As it enters the bubble and allows me to see in
That can only be the ticklish God that put me in here
The death realm all colors and ecstacy
But it's not heaven
They are still fitting it out apparently
I'm sure I could add a feature or too

But souls are just supposed to hangout here
Take a look at the world's progress
Sip some kind of thick liquid that makes you change shape
Yes I never knew I would die
But as I pierced the line I could hear God shouting
Maybe they got the order wrong
Maybe it wasn't my time
Maybe it was voodoo technology

But now im here in the death realm
Pancaked ont he ceiling for amusement
I have my solace and euphoria
My unrealistic expectations
And deep down that feeling that heaven should be ready
so nothing really changed.

Not a suitor

 Her father came out
Light ginger brown hair fat spectacles
A slight sign of relief on his face
Unless it was his pretend greeting for all face

But I'd never seen him before
I was there to indulge a strange wish
And then the man went on to tell me
All the wonderful things I had done

Some of them real some embellished
Some were absolute flukes
Others projects I nourished
I was flattered and confused

Cousins and brothers still in their early teens
Ran through the house causing accidents 
The high ceiling and huge living room
made the place look inviting for horseplay

Then the mother came out
She looked slightly like her daughter
something her daughter deep down never liked
Seeing as a curse of future self

She was vigilant andstared into me with beady eyes
She thought I was a suitor
But I didn't want to be there
Seems digging into the past just reveals more dead bodies