Poem about how writings seems to come easier to me at night.
Delicate surprise From behind blind-folded eyes That glint of glitter Sprinkle, sprinkle, floating down We reach out, we grasp, we drink
Once my beating heart Matched steel drum lines to-to-toe Teaching metronomes But now my beat has fallen Into syncopated depths
Such an empty sky Countless pensive glances are Over and over Swallowed swift, before their time If only I could keep them
Fresh Seattle rain Cleanser more of soul than streets I envy that sound Such simple pure harmony Don’t forget that umbrella!
Archaic toiling Through endless character streams To drown deeper still Beneath black and white waters Until I breathe symbolly
Twelve in numbered spin Once reaching double digits Feel the crisp brisk sweeps Sudden gentle remainders Subtle breath of orange array
A sudden rain flux A faintly calling whisper To turn off eyelids Yet I cannot shake my dream For just another hour
The words are muffled and shifting… The pounding won’t stop, the fraye… I hold onto a thread, a little blu… The tension is mine; it is a pain… Frenzied energy drains from my fin…
Is there something dark? Dark, dark, deep down inside me Something that keeps me Away from the center ring A divergent path indeed
A midst cold classrooms Seemingly short dialect Audio-connect Slowly frozen hearts will drip As conversations bubble
Life’s obligations A daunting sea of turmoil With crest after crest I’ll hide in this briny shell Till the tide forgets my name
To hide in plain sight Something we all yearn for, but Our differences Do not belong in the mud For mud cannot be polished
Anticipation Generic butterflies swarm Twists, knots, fluttering They find no golden nectar Only number two pencils
Such sweet aroma Breathe in the color deeply Exhale precious wafts Crisp Citric spiral peelings, Fill my compost disposal
The end of the road A distance we all travel Darkness as moonlight Spreads over stone and flowers That litter our path ahead