almost directly overhead
crescent moon slips behind clouds....
crickets croon tunes
gray clouds hide red sun rising
rainstorm approaching soon adds apprehension
Directly
Ending of seeming
Separation without
An ending of
Seeming separation..
Directly
A shift that is not
A shift..
Directly
Freedom of
No freedom..
Directly...
B-irthday's
U-nique
E-xpression
N-icely
A-pplies
E-vent's
L-ovely
L-ines
O-nce
R-egards
D-irectly
A-rrive
Topic: Birthday of Buena Ellorda (March 21)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Never been the indirect type chalk that up to my zodiac, take a picture of this moment you'll never see it again without a Kodiak, everyone needs to be tested like an asvab, so bubble in your answers clearly I'm so mathematic, I don't take shots at anyone regardless of they drew the foul, just box em up in isolation crowds are so futile, no ammunition so no need to go to the armory, standing ovation for anyone honorable trying to dishonor me, feeding in too deeply of what your heart says is bad for business, just let it pump blood your mind was designed to make those decisions, fishing for answers without asking questions, it's a never ending cycle I wonder how stubborn we truly are or if we just look past the lessons, I'm no lesser so I chose to leave it on the dresser, birds of a feather will always flock together, so if you're one who's reading this and I offended you in some type of way, come approach me on it directly or let's make peace that's really all I'm trying to say
another human’s art
affects directly---it
drills down into the core,
lifts up from inside,
inspires behind the eyes,
burns away the tears,
creates tears of smiles
when a deadness & a
numbness was though to be
all that remained,
stirs up a group of angry
folks into compassion,
riles up the stagnant &
supposed hopeless into fury,
relates one to another,
stops time to involve only
sentiment & experience in
memory, communicates
where nothing else shed
understanding, gives a
soundtrack when imprisoned---
a resistance of the heart
that can defeat all those
who did the locking up,
sings each of us into that
final deep sleep when the
flat line finally arrives &
ushers in the next generation
accidentally, like a spark
from a friction fire stick
burrowing into the
tinder.
Like father like the son.
Like mother like the son.
I behave like mum,
i think like daddy.
charity begins at home.
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