Obligatory greetings,
enquiries, statements,
then a vague promise to return
as they disappear,
talking to someone they
have more in common with
until your time is over
and there’s only a moment
when you pass on the stairs
to remember them by.
23:190
A trickle invading,
attempting to start a spark
that will harm
but shock you
into life or death,
and you have to decide
which one you want.
23:189
First selection
for the fresh
beginning of time,
where the second choices
of yesterday can be forgotten
and forgiven,
and you can be
positive again.
23:188
Run to the false wind
man-made to make life
more convenient,
more bearable,
masking how your skin
feels on fire
as you burn from
the inside out
while no one notices.
23:187
Disillusioned from fantasy
at the perfect life
perfect job
perfect moment
and place to belong
and be at peace.
Does it really exist?
Or will it always be so fleeting,
caught in small moments
that you are forced to treasure
because of their rareness.
Update
No poem today, feeling sick and it’s my only day off before working eight in a row.
23:186
The convenience of watching
the light turn off
and not pressing it alive,
allowing it to grow cold,
die
so that when it’s needed
there’s nothing left to use.
23:185
I am the most tired
in all the land.
Jobs and needs can wait
or be forgotten
when I decide to sleep.
What a beautiful world
I live in.
23:184
His compass saved him
from wandering aimlessly
amongst the sky.
He’d travelled East on the ground,
away from his home,
so now he headed West,
eyes aching from the bright
white and blue
that was never hidden.
Night fell before anything changed
and he hesitantly
laid on the clouds,
praying he wouldn’t
fall through as he slept.
Mid-morning he spotted a structure
in the distance
the sight making his heart soar.
The closer he got
his heart began to pound
at the enormous scale
of the building.
23:183
The air was thin,
his lungs not fully satisfied
whenever he took a breath.
When the beanstalk stopped growing
he climbed slowly, letting his
body adjust
until he broke above the clouds.
The brightness hurt his eyes,
blue and white
like a floating sea,
suspended and impossible.
He clung to the beanstalk
as he summoned his courage,
finally stepping onto the
unstable ground
and feeling an unreal lightness
in his steps
as the cloth kept him afloat,
bouncing on the ground.
He was here,
and now, finally,
he’d meet his Felicia.
Scribbled Thoughts 