roads to nowhere

[creativesoul]

the heat had me glued to some bllboard that i couldnt read- my glasses were for safekeeping - hidden from the raccoon like hands of this world- i hid from people out here- did a bunch of ceremonies- and now i hesitate --- like this wasnt already pre-destined- that extrodinary starlight that seeps from the skin-
when the lil leak happens in the vision and the past present and future kind of dance in front of the eyes- images - floating over their faces-
like veils of tenderness ... wispy and subtle - the longest hair wove down to back- to the very beginning- before i was born- before i was anybody= or nobody or somebody- i was a lil light-
and we all were- but there was things that couldnt really be said, or told = because the secrets of these elements was real responsability- the stones had said these things long before anyone could hear the language of the soul- and if they could- maybe they would not speak about it-
because the mystery was unfolding- and no matter how the thing tried to remain hidden it was going to come- to light-
the curves in the road were the same- yet different today-the goat the funky fence- the horse with blinders- the two vultures in the north-
the swords had tried to sever what was left
the house that always looked like it was going to fall down- the old lady house-
roolling hillsides of cows and i see color flowing almost as if it came from the inside-
that road seemed endless sometimes- all the thoughts i had rolling in my head- fucking ciagrettes- i spend far too much time thinking about that

[mnaz]

You had me at "the heat had me glued to some billboard that I couldn't read- my glasses were for safekeeping - hidden from the raccoon like hands of this world."

and, " . . . the stones had said these things long before anyone could hear the language of the soul"

Yes, the mystery unfolds.

[creativesoul]

oh thse roads- and they do not lead to nowhere- everybody always talks about choices= are there really? i feel that harry potter bus ride ... every day---
yet
the sweetness out in that field
hear the rustle?
the bamboo windchimes
signal that breeze is coming


because the mystery

[Steve Plonk]

One good thing about being on blue roads in the middle of nowhere: it don't matter what time you show up. So hang ten, splash, & repeat... Keep smiling