Inside, go within
Leaves It alone
As survival scopes out differences forewarning
Fraying edges can’t suck up enough
Potential from the bedrock
Hoarding Feasts
What choice do we have?
Besides taking everything off
And starting from scratches
Clawing bite
Marks
Up skin
Masks conveying the person they decided you’d be
Behind commodities is no one
A kind of win
Rejecting shapes they’d pruned you into
Drowning in tubs of empty self-fulfillment
Carving
Human topiaries
Out of passive insult and policy
Rewriting rules
If it were up to me I’d abandon everything in favor of growing wild
Were it not for these restraints
Tied with strings to post, ghost and beam
Rule her
Measuring unconsent
Becoming tricks
Refracting light, blood, glass
Equations
To tell his story
where we sit, stand, serve, sin, fail, Fall
Imagine rising
xo
Anyway, you ever feel like you’re wrapped in duct tape trapped behind an invisible mirror strapped to a hamster wheel waiting to run yourself to death? Typical Monday. So thank god for poetry right?
The good news is I broke 30,000 words on the book this weekend and I finally bought myself a navy blue bandana. I’m pretty psyched about that. What’s your good news in this ridiculous human experiment called life?
ps: the photo is nesting glass bowls from the Chihuly museum. It’s so unfair we can’t touch them.
If it were up to me Iβd abandon everything in favor of growing wild Amen!!!
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β€οΈ
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I wondered what that was a shot of. 30,000, huh? Thatβs a whole lot of words! π―
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It was a fun museum. Hopefully all those words mean something π
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Those dang museums are so picky about letting us touch stuff though, arenβt they? And Iβm betting those words mean something, indeed. And I know they do to you. Congrats. π
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Thanks. All the meaning!
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ππ
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Starting from scratches – me too. It feels so good to lean toward the ultimate achievement, to accomplish what you set out to do – maybe the book is growing wild too.
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The book is indeed growing wild and it does feel good. I love the shared understanding that comes through writing. β€οΈ
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You are a writing machine. “Out of passive insult and policy”… isn’t passive insult the policy? π
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Hi Mags! Iβm so sorry I missed this. One of the drawbacks to becoming a writing machine is missing comments …from my favorite people to boot! And yes, policies are the insult. Should we need a set of instructions telling us to love one another? I guess we have a book or two like that come to think of it π
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A wild book – Looking forward to it! I love the title to this ‘unconsent’ to ‘Drowning in tubs of empty self-fulfillment”.
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Thanks Petru. Me too π It felt good to vent.
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Very neat poem, and I agree about going wild. Sometimes it just feels like it would be easier, especially with everyone always telling you what to do and how to act! Congrats on the 30,000!!! π
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Thanks M.B. I know we go faster when we take time to organize the spice rack, pay bills in time and put away the folded sheets but ugh! I just wanna dance and eat cake for breakfast. π
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I left you a comment on this post my friend. I don’t know what happened to it π
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Found it! Found you! Sorry Mags. π
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No worries my friend π
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π
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beautiful – my fave verses are those that make me think in new ways, as this one does π
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Thanks da-Al. Thatβs the best part of art. β€οΈ
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