Silly Weekly Meta Momentum. (18.10.4)

When ya gotta write and all your head provides is song lyrics that already exist.

Starting lines and dramatic passages of fame.

Bits and pieces, ideas and scraps; deserve much better than this claptrap half exhausted gotta write something for the weekly brain.

Can’t loose momentum on the weekly.

Bits deserve flesh and strength.

Pieces of larger things that can’t, well shouldn’t, simply be removed.

To stand on their own.

Ideas take time.

Scraps need edited.

Sensations and scenes, imagery and vivid instants.

Those would be lovely.

Fully realized, perfect edits, easily.

While still asleep.

The lead weight cotton static in the mind drags on the hunt

To find a more or less decent post.

Maybe next time, it won’t be a weird and silly meta blob of bits and pieces.

Open Wind. (12.7.6)

Listen to the open wind

It speaks


A culture all its own

Open wind lives


Everyone feels

Open wind


It calls




For your alliance

To find what you search for




The Open wind

Why do you trust

That it will take you

Where you want,

Where you belong,

When it


When it only


Write At Once. (18.9.14)

Bits and pieces jumble.

Perfect and whole in the mind.

Falling haphazard on the page.


Missing pieces, nibbled edges, colors slobbered off.


Process is the gauntlet.

Jumble perfectly formed ideas.

Tossed through the clumsy translation of fingers,

Stitching together til their nearest approximations.


Some pieces from another box.

They’re supposed to fit, but don’t.

But those that clearly don’t go together,

won’t let go.


Nearly there,

Or thread is lost.



Lost and maybe found.


And a derpy puzzle metaphor

Amalgamation – abomination? – with sewing

Cause that’s just what happened and really,

the reasoning isn’t there

but why take the effort

to change it?


(change what it might become,

in the next pass.)

World or Wonder. (10.1.1)

Swaying so slightly,

Feeling the call.


A laughing smile,

A quiet teardrop.


Wind in the trees,

Brushing away the bees





What do you see?





What do you hear?


A sorrowful soul?

A laughing heart?


A pained moan?

A scream of laughter?


Who do you see?



An old friend?

Perhaps a lover?


What do you hear?


A long forgotten story?

Perhaps in an old language?


Swinging in time,



or Dare?



or Wonder?



or Die.


Truth is dying.

Dare’s no longer with us.


World is overrated.

Wonder is forgotten.


Living is a waste.

Dying even more so.


Clouds are leaving.


Goddesses’ crying.


And you.


The sky is gray,

The blue long gone,


The trees are black, no longer strong.


What will end all pain?

No one.




White Light. (10.8.9)

A captivating force.

A glowing glance.


White light dances.


A free spirit.

A trusting soul.


White light dances.


A shadow deep.

A pocket of brightness.


White light dances.


All the same

True to form


White light dances.


A swirling cloud.

A bouncing disco ball.


White light dances.


Total opposites.

A polar difference.


White light dances.

White light dances.

Just Imagine. (18.6.8)

For all of you who have the breath to,


Just imagine. A world a little better. A future a little brighter.

Nevermind how to get there.

Nevermind all the ways it will never, ever work.


Just imagine for a moment.

We’re already there.

What are you doing?


What would you give to others, if didn’t have to worry for yourself.

Who would you treat like family?

What would you take a slow breath to understand if there were time?


Don’t tell me everything that has to be changed to get there.

Don’t tell me how the system should work.

Don’t try to find a way to get there.


Not all at once.

Not before we don’t know what should be there.


Tell me a little piece.

Tell me a feeling.

Tell me a wish.


Each seed we plant

Strengthens the earth for the next

We can watch them grow together.


Our space for dreams is limitless,

There’s no need to wait for good times,

We can lend our strength.


Everyone needs tending to.

I’ve been tired. Writing and keeping up is hard. I took some time outside today, in the wet rain air. I love the way writing and stories are being used to build up ideas for the world to work in better, equitable, and just ways. Look into Afrofuturism if you will, it’s wonderful to learn about and see the effects. I have not yet learned how to prepare the right level of exuberance for pride month. I’m so glad there are so many amazing people celebrating their lives and existence. We need to keep making sure there’s room to grow, to support and embrace everyone who’s yet to come out.

Have a good weekend everyone.