No more conflicts, no arguments to speak of anymore.
Similar Posts
Regaling in sidelines, watching time rotate away from me in hidden tunnels, perfecting perception in darkness.
Slicing constantly into spheres of identity, providing accommodationsfor future destinations in harley heaven.
Enjoying talented people, gathering closely together,
Inspiration abounding, climbing walls and blossominglike morning glories.Honeysuckle wine being poured through our minds andveins, awakening musical literature and art withwords of placid poetical texture and vibrant sound.So lovely, being met and enlivened without unduestress.A myriad of ideas and memories being made withextravagant thought and suicidal tendencies,delivering musical, artful poetry to those aroundthem at any…
Dream-catching rhythms emanating from an electric guitar, sending sounds directly to my soul to be kept in treasure chests of my mind for future days of writing.
Intending to play within my mind, imaginatively, and playfully, taking into consideration my total interest of rhythmical poetry as it flows from my pen and silently alights on paper.Soaring minds set free to enjoy whatever touches a freedom of subconsciousness.
Listing attributes in a data-filled computer-like brain keeps them from attaching to me and bogging me down.
Silently sorrowful every day, I fall into a cradle of death – one that I will soon succumb to.
Marching through thickest tangles of life’s insistent webs of remorse.
Timely reminders that we are growing older with every moment, and are opening up to death’s doors.Not wanting to go through them filled with bushels of regrets to bog us down.Taking care to ask forgiveness and give acceptance to all those whose lives they’ve touched with malice, insincerity and lies.
Music is a driving force, set in since childhood,
world of grace.Thoughtfully ruminating over edges of existence,bringing them into focus for moments, hidden incoded verses, being written throughout time.Wistfully divining beauty of prose, lasting alifetime filled with sorrow’s tears, being capturedin many poems that owe their existence to my gifts.Innate talent resting within a heart of sorrowfulcompassion.