Archive for the ‘Creative Writing’ Category
Consciousness Streamed
Never mind that there is no reason not to keep on going despite the obvious restrictions and hesitations that never cease to exist in every manifestation of whatever reality this is at the moment that is surging past unless it’s not and instead is totally stationary and we are the ones doing the moving at such high rates of speed that it becomes difficult to discern what has already happened and what hasn’t actually happened yet in the way we currently perceive things that happen based on the senses that we have relied on to get us here thus far in our lives as measured against the backdrop of the climate as we knew it from the past fifty-some years which someday might be compared with the next fifty as a way of detecting the possibility of there being a difference as in change which would be undeniable one would hope at that point in the proceedings especially since this stream of basically unconscious rambling seems to appear about once every year maybe as a way to scour the surface of residual order in hopes of restoring some reset of rote writing routine repeated in a cycle of day after day wording that tries to make sense regardless the random missing word or unintelligible thought splayed out in broad daylight for all the world to see in the rare situation they just happen to do and willingly hang on till the end with some morsel of curiosity or macabre fascination that there will be some pot of gold at the end of this rainbow of brilliance that reaches in an arc across the screen from one point to another with shapes to decode the message therein however frightening and disturbing the exercise may be but unless some magic or miracle arrives all we’re left with is what we had on when we walked in here plus the thoughts that we carry inside of our heads that we believe must be precious because they haven’t been forgotten and lost for forever like the ones that are gone which we’ll never remember and we live with that fact because we’ve no other choice and speaking of choice that’s something we do have when it comes to this thing called love which when all else has failed is one thing that remains and in this stream unconscious where very little makes any sense love might be an answer worth considering to solve what it is that is bothering your distressed countenance.
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Climb
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he wrote it down
for us to read
every time
an invisible line
bounding
unbridled
captivated
by the grind
a mixture of time
and repetition
and loss
without meaning
which we then bring
on the long climb
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Crispy
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crispy
is back
I saw so last night
while watching tv
I was avoiding actual headlines
of terror and pain
that rerun on the newsfeed
I usually read
so for a night
I escaped
and my soft spot
was moved
to tears
at seeing artists
whom I don’t really know
relish their moment
for shows I haven’t seen
where they get to act
life’s emotions
that we then feel
while eating popcorn
and on rare occasions
M&M’s …crispy
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Found
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I’m here
but I’m not here
right now
never was
listening
to the cacophony
of unwanted sound
despite every effort
to not be around
I’m hiding
upstairs
way underground
beneath the pathway
repeatedly beaten down
by footsteps
figuratively traipsing
across the surface
of everything
waiting to be found
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Din
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amid the din
of everything that happens
at once
there remains space
between spaces
where significance differs
pretty lights hold no sway
dulcet tones
of long gone crooners
float effervescently from beyond
winding in and around
without ever swaying
mildly oblivious crowds
and evening swallows daylight
as shoppers
dutifully paint the town
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Relative Something 