routines.
Not even giving a thought to them as they disappear in a
flurry of excitement over finding something on sale at the
mall.
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Boxes of writing are never stored, never filed in
be room for newly created poetry.Clutter would restrict freedom of movement, ideas,images, creativeness, it would hinder the creativeprocess and cause mental or writer’s block.A clean continuous slate and screen invites memoriesto expand into visions of poetry, able to betranslated into rhythmical words and flowing meanings, carrying on the tradition of literacy throughout theworld.
Walking a fine line between here and beyond, seeing visions of personalities, emotions and spiritual beings at edges of sight.
Plateaus of sense mix with reality, combining in words with explanations ensuing, showing poetical visions in verse to see what’s been thought.
Nothing feels good to me at this moment,
There’s no justification in life, it’s justwhat it is – nothing more or less.Stepping always to an inner rhythm, at leastit drowns out all the suffering, disappointmentand abandonment felt within, caused by other’sviolating my space in life.
Listening to echoes, recalling their memories from past years, growing up in a large family.
Being poor, but never letting that stop us from finding good, clean fun every weekend.