Flippin dippin trippin tippy trop gotta moonbeam in my brain gonna blow my goshdurn fuckin top don’t sweat it baby hush let’s head down to the coffee shop cruisin’ like a missile that a concrete wall won’t stop …no Listening to the waves…
Category: Marathon Poem
The fog
I didn’t want to just share not this time so I made a cup of coffee and listened she told me it was rather late for coffee as the moon beamed through the fog, casting a misty light in the dark she hushed herself while…
Saving Boots
Saving Boots They’re still in the barn His dozens of worn boots Waffle stompers they’re called Look it up When in Alaska I discovered old boots Would become planters Boots still working While saving his boots He was feeling Both honored and…
Fern, the Resurrected
Resurrection? What an interesting thought… Living proof of the soul of this planet Whose clothing is us. And when a strong strand loses her head, She thinks herself into form. Exactly the same as before… With his permission, of course, After her apt logic gave…
Silence
The symbol of peace An act of protest Could make you strong Or make you weak Could build relations And destroy them too If used wisely It could solve things Bring change But be careful If used foolishly It could be the most destructive weapon
Weekend Getaway
Campfires rage in a steel cold night. Coffee by the fireside and music that is right. The hush of the fog makes everything else stand still The moonbeam through the fir trees make the darkness more real. Just inside the cabin window there a canteen…
Into the Wild – Hour 9
We are wild Achieving greatness Running through the forest Running after prey In the nights, we mostly sleep On full moon we meet in peace Rawr – we meow. Cats we are Armed with our claws Till death we fight StarClan, be with us tonight!
Creativity Awakened
Damn the concrete fog! It must not hush my moonbeam. Loose my coffee from the canteen For it must not dock on the shelf of fir!
So much
There’s just so much that I… but I can’t because you’re with yours and I’m with mine but oh the stories we could write with sex and sweat on my ruffled bed sheets And leave them dripping with inspiration that I could carry with me…
Nobody does it better (the spy who loved me)
She’s always there for me. I just couldn’t see it sometimes. Whatever the mission entailed, she fully embraced all the ramifications that accompanied it. We inverted the world and proved that mortality is only an abstract myth that seeks to hinder you. It’s why I…