Start writing…
I didn’t bother with much of a title but I started writing as you can see
But I’ve forgotten how to write, or rather I think it’s forgotten me
Start writing…
Next to the damn curser, every new fricken line, start writing, start writing… but how to finish cleverly this time…
…stop writing.
When your’re out in a Storm
When the weather closes in around you
And the ferocious winds turn against you
When the rain falls likes bullets to hurt you
And thunder deafens like cruel words
Along with its lightning continuously trying to shock you
I will be there
Your hand in mine
To help you to shelter
Find the calmness after every storm
I’m the relief in the burst of sudden sun rays
The bandage for all your wounds
Il silence the thunder into peace and birdsong
I am the earth that absorbs the lightning
I will hold you tight
I will see you right
Show me the precise moment;
when your unfamiliar sky is at its exact height to which you can now call it sky.
As the unrest in the clouds
representing thoughts of an entire planets inhabitants clear; to reset control.
Now that being there; is now always near
And since then where have we’ll been? –
By the fridge near that bridge…
Leaning on the ridge of ‘Decorated Windowsill Hill.’
As you stare; stop looking… for answers on every wave, and under the tiring sun that lowers into its new water bed: forever creased. Each nearing roll of surf perpetually attends to the beach where you wander; reaching out and soaking, smoothing scars of soft land and human hand, from land loving creatures.
The bubbling roar of white noise; rising and dipping in volume; teasing your ears into hearing frequencies from lost radios stations: faulty and alluring. Every time this happens something is taken from you, soon replaced by a specific space to lighten your walk inland.
All this… as you stand, feet sucked by gooey miniature rocks that table gels of dead jelly fish; glistening like little brains of the sea; forced up upon confusion and violence from the mighty froths of wash.
Gonna get up
Gonna write something
Get up
And write
Write Something
Something great
The best ever
The number one
Gonna get up
Here it comes
Gonna write
Something
Something great
Here it comes now…
Ok, tomorrow then
Some days, I’ve inhaled boulders,
Expelled sand-dunes at every breath,
Created desserts full of anagrams,
Formed beaches; of enormous breadth.
I Eat Let.ers 