Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

but you were blessed with children

riding around on mopeds without helmets
as the last symbol

of a freedom fighter
on an almost harley
and how it all transfigures
trans-substantiates

and we all become old

but the words never fail us

as if you lost a poem
trying to remember the content

so you kept writing
in the silence
of what was lost

and it became you

deconstructing mathematics
until the emotions become real

i was thinking about a comment but was sufficiently confused but then i realized it was just the way i was feeling so i wrote a poem and kept it in a place where even i couldn't remember so and i kept writing more poetry as if saying to myself if i kept writing i would someday remember where the poe...

i feel the same way only differently
sometimes
sometimes i don't feel anything
but the ocean writing poetry
on a coral

the irony of having said nothing

why does the scab still bleed
after it has already healed?

as i juggled a cup of coffee
onto my lap

it reads differently
as it is read again

as if to suggest
the time of its happening

responses obfuscated
by the cryptic
freedom
to express

and then release

tactile

try mysticism

aphorism

and such small portions

all paths to love must be true
as words express themselves
over coffee and a morning
almost sublime
surreal in the content
of favourite words and phrases

the freedom to express
and the reading of it
as liberation

and food for thought

and having a great day!