when will my longing
return from the
war?
[a poem of irony]
[i think that’s the right way to use the term]
when will my longing
return from the
war?
[a poem of irony]
[i think that’s the right way to use the term]
who else
has gotten
this far in life
just to
question
everything?
~~~
probably
a lot of people
actually
amiright
~~~
books
bringing
creativity
tv shows
about
gaming
where is the fantasy
in my own
life?
where can i
create
and write
and adventure?
where can i
do all the things
buzzing about
in my little
MaybeHD
brain?
windy mornings
cold cold ears
hood up
take a step
embrace the autumn
{spooky season approaches}
am i
getting back to
the regular?
am i
in a state
of consistency
again?
or do i still have
a crazy crazy week
ahead of me?
after a few days
of none morning pages
perhaps today will be a day
of one morning pages
it certainly is
a rainy day
tho the rain is not pouring
the vibes
are grey
and cozy inside
gold painted roses
and bunches of baby’s breath
sparkle as they die
~~~
are haikus still a
Japanese art form when the
US does it wrong?
~~~
crow phone cases for
both the spouse and myself; match
and we become one
dog calming music
calms the humans of the house
too
no creative energy
no inspirational flow
no way to know
if this is how it is today
or if i just need to let my imagination
go
~~~
so
i suppose
i’ll write
~~~
a glitch
in the system
a ghost
in my computer
a little spark of the unknown
is everywhere
around us
stuck behind a computer keyboard
when i simply wish i could hook up some sort of cord
to my brain and let it leak poetry
more real/raw/strange/
honesty
might not consistently be
but it’s consistently
me