Of little signifigance...
I just realized how small and meaningless my writing is. I have little reach when it comes to poetry, I feel like I actually could reach some cosmically important concept... but no that's too hard... I'll stick with the moon, the rain being born and poetry. I think I'm sick of being so superficial.
-Rippling In/Rippling Out-
On the sidewalk,
the cracks saturate
becoming darkly pensive.
An overwhelmed sky
puddles its lucid dreams on the concrete.
With a dim nickel
I buy a few ripple-shaped wishes
Their movements wrinkling the light
as it grays.
Winter is the middle stillness:
a misty breath between transformation.
February slings in with her expections
clean and clear…
Winter’s feminine stability
stirs a strong propensity for silence.
It ripples in smooth and cool
so you’ll never doubt it.
Fatigue melts into my mouth
the shape of a smile.
...
and yes I meant to say expections.
so what if my verbal regurgitations have a good vocabulary and configuration. It's ultimately just a hollow retching mess.
-Rippling In/Rippling Out-
On the sidewalk,
the cracks saturate
becoming darkly pensive.
An overwhelmed sky
puddles its lucid dreams on the concrete.
With a dim nickel
I buy a few ripple-shaped wishes
Their movements wrinkling the light
as it grays.
Winter is the middle stillness:
a misty breath between transformation.
February slings in with her expections
clean and clear…
Winter’s feminine stability
stirs a strong propensity for silence.
It ripples in smooth and cool
so you’ll never doubt it.
Fatigue melts into my mouth
the shape of a smile.
...
and yes I meant to say expections.
so what if my verbal regurgitations have a good vocabulary and configuration. It's ultimately just a hollow retching mess.