#searchformeaning
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The static of his mindblew apart the EKG machine. I don’t know what languagefreedom, will be written in on his hospital release papers,or if they will ever be inked again. He was bouncing off the walls today,slamming pads, brick, doorways, and glass. Demons were in his bones, he saidhe was just trying to shake them
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Old sort of stream-of-consciousness poetry from 2009. Enjoy 🤗 ___ Lost in West Coast Dreams the same four blank wallsCrack of Dawn phone calls,McDonald’s French Friesspirited drunken highsand drinking gamesaccompanied bythe nicknames,that beg to breakHer silence. curiously cold coffee andbountiful brownie breakfast,smoking in the kitchenmid-afternoonto the tuneof Eternity againstspit-shined countertops,happiness soughtbought at the corner shop.
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“Follow the spiritof freshwater streams safeto sanctuary prisms light the way,don’t stray too far from the banksoon, find home again.” Last words from the caveas I followed directionlit by sun and moons. Like spectacle gleamtwo moons peered behind the cloudsas I stream bound walked witness to the joyof Naiads at play, splashessound of chimes and
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I once said I’d show up early To my own execution.As I stall for time pouring coffee into my sugar, I realize those were just hollow words,Hollow like a scam artist’s laugh Happy only when fish takes bait, As whispered unwound unbound promises Of a fearless future. Farewell to this empty
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The Golden Thread of timeIs hidden quietly awayOn worn-out library shelves. The identification of dreamsIs hidden away tooBehind receipts of purchased purpose. Is it believable to love this world? Now we can fax our soulsThey have area codesBased on the worth of our life. How much peace of mindCan you find within the strife Within
Poetry With Hart 