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Friday's BluesWhen I woke up on Thursday,Friday's Blues2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I had Friday's blues.
It was twenty-four hours
before they were due!
I said to the blues,
"You don't belong here today.
Get your stuff together
and be on your way."
But the blues was upset
and unsure what to do.
I said, "Listen to me,
I will take care of you."
I said, "Put on this coat
and put on this hat.
Wear these dark glasses
and follow this map.
"The route there is perfect,
don't you stray from that line."
So the blues left me then
and my day was so fine.
And I wondered, I wondered
if the blues could swim -
my map led to the river
and then it led in.
I woke up on Friday
and there on
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Cigarette tipsThe soul burns away like smoke expelled, faraway, faraway where the soul is bound to a thought in the dark that sings a nightingale tune, a haunting serenade under black empty sky without moonlight or stars.Cigarette tips1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Just a grey melancholy touch, a kiss on the hand, something so formal with nothing to give, a dull ceremonial rusted spark, nothing more. The eyes gaze dully like a light long gone out.
Now the grey twisting line is obscuring the face, a long shallow sigh before it leaves this place, like her mind in room where the colours are black and white, just a laugh, and memories of things right.
Things that reach down so deep in the soul and
goldenblackhe was all golden blackgoldenblack2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
goldenblack
yes
that's how he looked
each place the light hit a highpoint
there
he was gold
what am I to look at?
the black?
or the gold?
which one is real?
The Festival of DoorsOne of those dreams that defines "surreal".>The Festival of Doors2 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Convention hotel. I'm in the field in front where I watched someone I thought was me, oddly enough, looking somewhat like Harry Potter, walking through the field and disappearing into the crowd. I turn around, a taller me, with no eyeglasses, and run toward and through the entrance and jump at the reception desk, a huge irregular, polygon-shaped thing with a flat top and nothing on it. The top is pastel green. Or was it intense lavender? Bertie, a receptionist and expediter I knew in my past life is sitting at the desk on the side nearest the door. I jump, and touch down almost at the far edge of
Luna Cityby the light of the wild moonLuna City2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the crazies flail without a beat
on burning city streets
homeless is not a number
it's a man who's not alive, but twitching
spirit is just an itch inside
and not an inspiration
who would want to breathe
when the only air is flames of cars and buildings
Sta.sh
