1:21am

A poem past one a.m. can only mean one thing:
That I am prioritizing a thought --
just one.
It is like counting sheep,
without the herd;
like a skip on a record,
on the very first note;
like a series of binary code --
without any zeros,
just one, one, one...
You know why,
because you've been there before
and the reasons don't matter;
they're all scattered anyway.
Just a thought - just the one,
and I'm done for.

12:44am

Bare branches shed no shade
They cast thin shadows --
creep upon the face.
A tree in winter,
blanketed in snow,
beauty in silence
but the season's cold.

Prayer for change.
Patience for Spring.
Waiting for leaves.
Beneath fuller boughs,
and the swaying green,
the music plays--
a forgotten melody.
The ear hears what the eyes already see.

2:04am

Thought-struck with the idea --
A trickle of spark and wires
coils itself down my spine
and jolts me upright;
like an antenna
ready to transmit
the message.

10:16am

Cyncism is a sickness
inflicting its worse symptoms
on those who were once innocents
but unlearned what the true nature of beauty is --
because they got hurt,
somewhere at sometime
by someone who mattered
who fell short of being better than they ought...
The story's the same old
- the person is not.

Then the sickness remains
and they cough and wheeze
all their negativity
on anything that could be
and infect anyone still healthy.
They cannot heal with self-medication
only reconciliation of mind and heart
For where cynicism breeds, beauty must part

So yes, I might be too eager to forgive --
I might be drinking this world in
with eyes too wide in a rose-coloured haze
And I may be simple and naive
and a target for pain,
but I'll pray to be wiser with the hope I can be kinder,
without reservation,without walls, without shields
without worrying who will be the next
to step on my heels.

11:05am - One of those dead mornings

Distractions
Rest less
Consume little -
Little light
Living-ish
Love less
Such twisted treatment
of one never out of sight,
with open or closed eyes.