Journal

people often say to me
what a beautiful day.
So i look around,
i search for this beautiful day
they have seen,
but to me
it seems the same
as yesterday,
and the day before

I'm known to drop my mind,
from time to time.
I find it in the strangest places,
up a tree,
in a puddle, covered in dirt,
in the bin;
the strangest places.
Indeterminate times passes,

The Truth Today

Sweet; knows how to make me laugh at the perfect times. Understands that there are some things that are hard for me, and that reassuring me doesn’t always work; I need to do some stuff on my own.

Perpetually dissolving, shifting in radiant motion, blindly seeing everything.
On the cusp of a wave that embarked me in Dis do I sing out creation. I sink into bliss.

Dear Mrs. Young McCoy

Expected doubt when country far
From north and south, the land Qatar
By which the birth of March beginned
With teardrops from the heavens' grin

Mere peasant of the inland sea

"I have done over 28 years cannabis research, so I think I'm qualified. I'm not particularly interested in the red-light district.

Well I was going to give up drinking today but I had a load of beer left and, having drunk it, I decided not to give up after all. when you have a Lidl with Grafenwalder at 75p...

Dear Alexander

I never thought to write,
Never knew much about you
Until you slipped into your wardrobe and out of your life.

What did you hope to find in there?
But for a wintry death.

to love one's wife
is the synergy of love
that overflows from God's grace.

our goals are banal...
to build a home,
to have kids,
to work...
it is good to do these things.

broken words from a broken pen

Typical Monday morning—
sitting on the dirty sidewalk
waiting for my bus to arrive.
A duck begins waddling,
one webbed foot at a time,
across the street, three lanes ahead.

You sit and weep within your cell
whilst I live life a living hell
I thought I'd feel like i won the war
But still inside my heart is sore
I try to sleep
your always there

abused little girl

Dear Diary,

I can remember being little and thinking Mom was the best looking and most amazing super hero of all time.

A brief account on the joys of hunting for second hand books and that slight embarrassed feeling you get when its time to pay and one of your choices is of an erotic persuasion.

In the anteroom of a thought... lie hope , faith , belief and justice...

Windy nights, black walls
Dark memories & hard falls
That's what I'm going through right now
I'm walking in that road alone
In it, I stand and scream
From it, I'll soon be gone,