an open word
equal parts of everything
I touch this jewelled infinity ..
Let me inside
‘the stars in your eyes’
‘the butterflies in your stomach ‘
your telepathic sixth sense
I am just a byte away..
There lived a man in Timbuktu
who made himself some chicken stew.
the hardly alive chicken broke out from the cooking pot
clucking , she flew at him steaming hot
she was a cocky chick, she flew the coop
the poor man’s dinner plans she blew
he lost his appetite and his stew
he only had coffee left to brew.
I sat and dreamed
under the sky:
but I just could not fly…
words divide us
not worlds or continents…
I am always in the middle of a bloody battle teetering off the edge of a page clinging to alphabets that drop like seeds that sprout and harvest blue ink flowers that give me my wildflower smile.
the January cold’s
an empty page
As I lay bleeding from inside, they walk all over me
Their footprints locked in my blood’s captivity .
My hands are empty, I have lost all my words
The pages in my book whisper, their screams go unheard.
I can no longer see or feel my dreams
still, my dreams reach out to me , give me self esteem.
Dreams taken from me, lost along the way
I still feel them, I know they won’t betray.
I cling to my quill and feel it’s comfort
when I scribe, my thoughts are comfortably versed.
I will not let the ink dry on my soul
my subconscious hope will always console.
Sweeping me off my feet
Starry eyed, I gaze at the
Sojourn of lustrous stars
Surfing the empyrean
Saturating air with stardust
Streaking the celestial
Scintillating the nova
Spinning inky aether
Stringing the Big Dipper
Shimmering Milky Way
Stunning, dazzling me as
Shooting stars wish me well.
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