pitter pattter

It's raining...
memories of playing in the park as a kid,
running, jumping in puddles,
or riding my bicycle and splashing about
 in the waterlogged grass.

the smell of the air right before it poured,
and the excitement and anticipation of the first few drops...
the reckless abandon, and carefree spirit,
I've always seemed to be... still am.

I love it when it rains.

obliviousity

Sometimes I don't have a clue,
or simply lose myself in being
completely oblivious.

What's real is us,
hanging by a thread.

layhill

My thoughts turn to her still.

Inexplicable how touch, smell,

sight and sound connect the dots back,

every thought, externally influenced,

point her way.

...still I mess it up,

an already overflowing mixen

of disappointment and crushed hopes,

enveloping this existence in a shroud of

uncertainty, further condemning ourselves

to a future, one without the other.

watchaperiodseriesforhoursonend&yourdictionbedicky

Mind is reduced to mulch

and sleepless eyes gaze back,

absent, empty, dull,

the light has gone from pupils

once adorned by light now faded.

I lament not, such thoughts have no room this hour.

A mere salutation to wandering eyes

that chance their sights in like direction.

Salutations all around.

Today, this fifth day,

I would to make merry

and partake of drink,

and wine, women for sport;

such is the world, but I decline,

not out of loathe or disdain, but

by default and lack of choice, for the now

does not permit.

Nor would I take into mine arms for mere leisure alone.

this heart beats but for one.

silly words, perhaps.

silly words.

run fumble hard gamble now ramble

keep not a penny
for libationary exploits,
it would do you in.
livers and workhorses
can last and outrun for only so far.

If troubles could be drunk away...
Mine are deep.
aye ocean deep.

despite this plight,
a faint fuzzy light...
glows.