A fog rolled in
Across the river
Bringing confusion
And winter’s shiver
The boy walked up
As she went down
There was no “what’s up”
Or “give me a pound”
Perhaps the Fates will decide
Well before the nightly tide
To cross their paths once again
And allow young hearts to freely reign
If only briefly, through an embrace
There is no hurry, there is no race
the full moon rises
bringing some surprises
To tickle the senses
Through kaleidoscope lenses
Martini and Wings please!
Two olives?
Of course.
May I have extra
wetnaps?
It gets messy you know
🙂
Check please!
Hello City,
You look nice.
With your midnight blue backdrop,
And the ebbing rust of sundown
retreating from the coming night.
What stories will be woven,
between your pillars of steel
And mortar?
How many souls
Shall be conceived
upon this night?
What masterpiece
will my brush create?
Or will I leave it
painted black.
A spectre of summer’s past vigor
Floats by my mind’s eye
Unwrapping secrets
that were never secret.
This ghost has my morning graced…
me with feelings I’ve yet to face
Unraveling
Falling
Rolling on.
The illusion,
is gone.
The game,
still to be played.
But the players have yet to be named.
Thank you,
For being there.
Thank you,
for having a care.
but I have to walk away,
because you see…
I must save R–.
You have been kind,
You have been strong.
But the future takes us all
to where the heart longs.
I appreciate all,
and I wish you the best.
and give your sister
a hug.
no jest.
take care,
and good bye.
Walking softly
in a forest
of sharp.
Walking softly walking
softly.
Prodded
Poked
Pulled and
popped,
You keep walking,
softly.
When will they stop?
When will it stop?
When will I grow?
Or will I not?
When-
wait,
Is that the sea?
I look up
to see you.
Because in you I see
the glory,
that is me.
And,
It’s mutual.
That is so cool.
Guidance?
No.
Lead?
hell no
your job?
Learn and adapt,
To us.
your ways are old and silly
you are old and silly.
old man, go home.
THIS IS A NEW AGE
OF FRESHNESS
AND VIGOR!
Go home old man.
Sleep,
Old man.
Sleep.
Follow us to our graves.
Minutes.
Hours.
Sometimes weeks:
It goes
It comes,
and just when you see land,
It’s not.
Just a mirage
and you know,
that there is so much more to go.
Cresting high in absolute ecstasy
Speeds you closer to troughs of turmoil.
“It’s all good, all part of the journey.” says the guru
Screw you, guru
I’ll take the ecstasy-
Weeks on end
of pure unadulterated bliss.
So,
Let it rain.
Today
Is good.
Yesterday, not so much,
And let’s not even think about prior to that.
But today,
I like it.
The sky
The air
The day,
All smiling at me
And this,
this is a very good thing.
I think I will smile back-
just a little.
It’s the least I can do.
Thank You.
theDeprevation 