“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label 5:55. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 5:55. Show all posts
Saturday, June 8, 2019
B4 PM
Before private messaging
there were the numbers
on the clock
And those moments
were magical
when we could predict
(make occur)
the future
with its interminable revelations
And knew
All Souls
past by-when it began
its first
Revolution.
There were many times
All numbers
changed what they meant
and how they appeared
in passing.
Artwork by John Singer Sargent [CC0] in Public Domain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
And then...
Change is like that strong smell of cut grass or chopped wood that stops you still. Patterns, a symbol can be an illegible sign, at first...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Today seems like a good day to burn a bridge or two. The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it. In California...
-
This world is not for breath for feelings also come and go. As hard and light as Push and pull Go. Busy hands and bees-electricity, alter...