Airline tiny seat
Trapped, hurting, and itchy
Can’t fold bone, fucker
Author: Pelgris
when all errors tighten the vice
Sunset resides behind the eyes
No more lies
We say
We begin again
Promises which are lures
Back to what was
Last remnant looking for a drink
Last smoke
Last time
Fake smiles written in deep lines
We choose our futures
Shackled to our pasts
Prisoners caught between same and solace
Easy to mistake one for the other
When you’re running as fast as you can
Last one
Until the next
A promise
Is only as good
As its execution
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Spinneret
Give me a good time
A time of rhythm and rime
Past wrongs right
Past lives given fines
Traveling past the barrier of mind
One last trip round the sun
Then I’m gone
Just a spec of dust
Made from stars
Waiting for the wheel of wheels to slow down
Another lifetime
Another chance
Challenge nightmares to a dance
One filled with hope and broken feet
Pains just the memory of being whole
Give me a taste of that sweet beginning
That first rush when power is realized
That first crush when it fails
I miss that blind certainty of youth
Yearn for days perceived as good
The mythic past
The mythic future
One more twist
One more thread
Oh, give me a life well lived
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Always and again
A winter wind soothing aches long held
Pains fade in the embrace
Soft words give way
To wine red embraces
Wild, not with the folly of youth
Instead of the knowing
Of self
And each other
Tears
Confident
Wild
Bear down the trials
Gravity’s inevitability
When freed from the hazard
Of expectation
Of what is supposed to be
We may dance
Choose
And choose again
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4 am thoughts
Love is blind is a false phrase perpetrated by those who only see a relationship from the outside. Who see only the shallow surface and mistake it for the whole.
While this phrase seems to be an indictment of those in love, in fact it is merely a reflection of the observer.
To the observer it seems as if disparate people have joined and they cannot fathom the connection. So with limited understanding they impose their viewpoint. They cannot see the attraction, so they determine that love itself must be blind. Except this is a false image.
Love is not blind. It sees deeply and knows deeply.
So our conclusion must instead be that the observer is admitting to their own incomprehension.
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Short phrases, feels like the March of years
It gets harder as time wears on
Pulled forward by obligation rather than desire
Unable to look beyond
To else but quiet
What other than peace could I desire
When fatigue rages through
Devourer of all but itself
Leaving black flame
To trace its way through veins
Last reckless journey
Back to the beginning
Back to the solace of dreams
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Song of the day-Playing on Repeat in my head
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The rabbit hole is more often metaphor than fact
We can always move forward in a physical way. Getting distance from our hurts by moving away.
By moving jobs, moving relationships.
Sometimes it’s the only option we have.
So it’s ok.
OK to take those out steps to a different life
Sometimes, though, we have the opportunity to move sideways.
Not so much out as through
Through holes in ourselves
In our dreams
Holes others have hollowed out in us
Holes the world has drilled through us
Movement sideways
Movement thru
It fills us up with our passage
It takes such herculean effort to complete such a path
Magic truly, internal and from without
But in the end
That broken journey
Is one of healing
For with the passage of self through these empty spaces
We become whole
At a destination unknowable
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Slow ache builds the need
What I desire and what I have
Sit in juxtaposed divergence
In mind we exist together
Entwined and forever
But physical distance
That’s the trouble
Less depressed than frustrated
Time slips by
One more day without
(this was written and published On Monday, but WP failed and it got stuck in drafts)
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Not a haiku, damn big words
Indecision paralyzation
Mind switching gears from outside stimulation
Just one more thing
