What Crosses My Mind

  • What Rally Cry

    Standing alone, choosing alone, no dial tone, seems the last moments will bend forever the opportunity to glance ahead, beyond the scrutiny deeply laid inside the victim’s head.   and then …   There is the question of whose hurt is more measurable, the choice, or the outcome, the afterward, or perhaps it is the…

  • On Buying, Sharing, Wondering Love

    Oh it is the season now, and our lives, torn up, shredded, a certain fodder in the air, for Man might feel abused, when in reality, he ought felt this way, decades ago, a century perhaps, so those followers could stand a chance.   There’s no condemnation could be strong enough to withstand the scrutiny…

  • The Urge To Move

    Felt it? feel it on occasion, stuck in traffic seems plausible in comparison to standing still unable to navigate the next decision, next choice, perhaps a cathartic moment awaits the imagination, yet, for the moment, the urgency begins to build, suggesting something has to break … or are we always in a constant state of…

  • Validation

    Is it a want, a need, a purpose, defines the living soul, the eyes of which, a world may rely upon to assist simple understanding.   The manner we posture, a walk, a glance, an utterance, measured by one, thought of as many aspects – how an introduction might manifest an outcome.   If by…

  • Being Real

    Certainly, life is a challenge, wake up to a peaceful sunlit morning, compelled to go back to dreams, life is waiting with a plundering notion, at least, that’s what a voice tells me, when trying to ascertain, getting a grip, get a grip, get a grasp, we all do grapple with a sweet ideal, when…

  • The Absurdity of Time

    Oh yes, did you hear about the time … how often can we, separate one moment from another, stretch away from that time, to now quickly embrace, today, or was it yesterday, felt better than before, gave credence to wanting more, until last night, when it all hit home, the shadows, the memories, the crack…

  • Simple Task

    more challenge the heart while the world revolves along simple paths we choose.

  • Mother

    A heartbeat. A cradled affection, a sense of worry is unconditional, she will always remember that one time.   Oh while the years pass, many judgments, a currency of opportunity, an aesthetic realization that depends upon her eyes, she will always remember that one time.   We willingly recall, the time she managed our innocence…

  • In Shadows

    Where my reality lives, I sometimes never know, depends upon the breathing, a slight rasp might mean finding an edge, a smooth inhale is the sign of reaching an end. I do know though, when I glance to my side, in a sunlit morning, I can see myself, that part of me no one might…

  • That Life is Good

    When waking to the morning sun new breath to match quiet repose one might wonder if this hour begun could would help discover a suppose. ~ When tossing about the day’s activity can we see far enough ahead to prevent that sense of lost desire in proclivity that sort of burrowing down we lament. ~…