iconoclash
I contemplate the arguments,
the iconoclasm; the against,
a n d
the iconoclash; the for,
amongst; amidst; in between arguments,
I sigh,
I think,
w t f
am I getting myself into
Letters from the Depths of Solitude. Of Red Flags
insecurity is a red flag, loving you too hard is a red flag, sharing with you the music of their childhood is a red flag, calling too often is a red flag, calling too rarely is a red flag, answering too fast is a red flag, not answering is a red flag, showering you with affection—you guessed it—is a red flag (so-called love bombing), not giving you attention is a red flag, living one’s life is a red flag, having no life of one’s own is another, having a puppy while you like cats is a red flag, glowing after going out is a red flag—big times—smoking
after sex is a red flag, telling you “it’s a red flag” is definitely a red flag for me, eating too many vegetables is a red flag, selecting earrings for too long is a red flag, listing red flags is the reddest of them all
#ilikeredflags
A shoe box on the 428
I keep wishing you would drive me to where I need to be. A shoe box on the 428, just off the junction near that tall tree. The box not fit for purpose; yet I long for the cover it gives. I am not looking for a lover, just love; beneath a tree
i strum as i walk
I am worried the thirteen reasons might be enough / that the free lunch will never come / that the reflection I see is cracked; the mirror never broke in fact / my keys no longer fitting the locks / I strum as I walk / the path shaded and I never wonder why
why?
My life was going well,
Plodding along as you would say,
Then thoughts of greener grass;
of love across borders flourished,
I fell foul of greed and the lack of deed,
restarting a life among aliens,
there; I said it.
My life now; much to desire,
I kept going; developing software,
until one day I did so see,
my erring ways; a life of grief,
and thus I planned the change to be,
no longer spending days dreaming,
I chose the path of childhood smilings,
the writing; from mind worlds creating,
aiming if just in thought; to recreate the
feelings felt as pencil touched paper.
I now do study the ways of man,
the humanities of time and arts present,
The beginnings all well did pass,
lost; but challenging the mind’s desire,
Now; I doubt the choice was wise,
as struggle follow struggle,
essays piling up beside me,
my impatience showing,
thus I humbly wonder:
why? was it worth it?
are there canals in birmingham alabama
Are there canals in Birmingham, Alabama
I wondered as I recalled the Black Country
and our walks along the moorings,
We are no more; sadly
or am I
really
hand on heart
in any way regretting
the parting,
My worries today are more of me;
on the unexpected shadows following
the company of one and their knives
chipping; chipping; chipping away
at the timeline measuring
my life
make me God
I have three monitors; in the physical sense,
with nine spaces of virtual goodness,
I have two eyes; but only one brain,
is that why I struggle,
is that why I demand,
upgrade; upgrade; upgrade me now,
make me better,
make me good,
make me not suffer,
make me God
C90
Music must have a powerful impact on a child, I suggest as I sing along to every word I hear. Dire Straits played in the car; a travelling family of one among four. Back then on cassettes; C90, with automation and jamming tapes. I remember every word sung; none of the words spoken, between the seats of an orange car of German make. I still recall the silence; the moment the music ended.
la crêpe complète
Sitting outside the
Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris
Eating
la crêpe complète
Feeling lost / Longing for a purpose /
Amidst fear of
being
Untitled (1394)
Trust me (k)not,
This day,
A noose dangling,
Loosely from a ceiling,
There are shades,
Shadeless shames,
Hanging over me,
timeless clocks ticking,
And roads not yet travelled.
Tray.
Trade.
Traitor.
May.
I kick the bucket,
And the noose tighten,
…