I went to a place,
Today. Saw new things, yet they
Call it museum.
I wonder if our
Sense of perception is skewed
When history is
Now, and the past gone,
Like a layer under the
Motive we're painting
Without reference,
How can you see what to draw?
With hidden layers
In the vaults beneath
The collection of junk they
Showcase as better
Turntable crews check
Microphone music, but no
Samples can be used
Oh, it's astounding;
Some will say time is fleeting.
Madness takes its toll.
But listen closely...
(Not for very much longer)
Got to keep control.
Drinking those moments
When the blackness would hit me;
The void is calling...
Bit of a mind flip,
You're now into a time slip,
Nothing is the same.
Reality blurred,
You're spaced out on sensation,
Under sedation.
He stared right through me;
Felt a change - time meant nothing,
Never would again.
Time is ticking in
In deeds! Indeed, in time it...
Flees. Time is fleeting.
Be leaf and you will
Realize the wind is whimsy,
Like fate, like belief
Believe and act as
If it were impossible
To fail! I will try
Possibilities...
Infinite permutations,
But few satisfy.
Days fly by! No note.
Unnoticed like the quotes that
People say, every
Day. We remember
What they wrote only if their
Roads go: all the way
Time flows: it follows
Alone, it wallows, like prose
Less I juxtapose
Boulders that smolder,
A seaside of bedrock gnolls
Are lifting Pompeii
Sticks and stones may break.
But not my bones they're strong as
Titanium steel
Stone cold stone steps still
By the quay after nightfall
Frosty morning sun
Winter time is done
Suddenly morning's begun
An hour early
awaken, check Time
Toss, Turn, recoil 'til Sunrise
bathe in Midmorning
Your source for monthly music producer freebies here // Take My Cymbals // ALL my big sample projects, FREE
I do professional audio critique & commissions. Catch me on YT and X! If you got music, I'll playlist you!
Slate grey rainy skies
Gently patter on my window,
Lull me back to sleep
The rain made it north,
smothering snow into a
soft, forgiving earth.
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
Wake with a migraine...
To work, to sleep, to kill it.
Feel euphoric now.
A haiku for day!
For night, for great! Foresight, for
Ways to store our rage
And let great delight
Take it's place, insight, and then,
Chase the place we crave!
No matter what trains,
Lead fight, we'll fly above and
Wonder why they're down
When up in the wake
Of skies, where the lakes seem wide
Light is all we find
Traveling away
For a few days, to a new
Place, it will be great
Now I realize
Never will I be sure if
I'm a him or her
At 3/30/17 07:40 AM, Salis wrote: Now I realize
Never will I be sure if
I'm a him or her
Ah, fluidity
Gender, a shifting goalpost...
Welcome to my world!
Your source for monthly music producer freebies here // Take My Cymbals // ALL my big sample projects, FREE
I do professional audio critique & commissions. Catch me on YT and X! If you got music, I'll playlist you!
The "Y" chromosome
Should not be the blind shackles
of who you can't love.
At 3/31/17 01:35 PM, byteslinger wrote: The "Y" chromosome
Should not be the blind shackles
of who you can't love.
I have no clue what
this means, but I envision
a bisexual
man who only dates
women so as to evade
discrimination.
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
At 3/31/17 03:45 PM, TaintedLogic wrote: I have no clue what
this means, but I envision
a bisexual
man who only dates
women so as to evade
discrimination.
Our genetic code
Builds a framework for our life,
but not how we love.
Souls are genderless;
Since love is between two souls,
it transcends gender.
What really matters
is not who you love in life,
but how you love them.
At 3/31/17 10:58 PM, byteslinger wrote: Our genetic code
Builds a framework for our life,
but not how we love.
Souls are genderless;
Since love is between two souls,
it transcends gender.
What really matters
is not who you love in life,
but how you love them.
Much deeper than my
interpretation, as I
could expect from you.
:)
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
Through the cloudy skies,
A single ray of sunshine
Gives hope to the day.
It's been quiet here.
Nothing but the slow, sultry
hiss of melting snow.
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
It's been busy here.
Travel, terrorist attack...
Nothing's quite the same.
Are we to blame for
The age: the rage, the waged wars?
Nothing good remains
It's like a chain, like
A game, like some cultures are
Strange. I contemplate,
Empty platforms and
Closed gates, flowers in the way,
It's a shame, the same.
At 4/8/17 02:17 PM, Cyberdevil wrote: It's been busy here.
Travel, terrorist attack...
Nothing's quite the same.
Oh...that's right! I hope
the attack didn't injure
someone close to you.
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
At 4/8/17 02:55 PM, TaintedLogic wrote: Oh...that's right! I hope
the attack didn't injure
someone close to you.
No one I know no,
Though it did hit close to home;
The roads we roam. Thanks.
At 4/8/17 05:10 PM, Cyberdevil wrote:At 4/8/17 02:55 PM, TaintedLogic wrote: Oh...that's right! I hopeNo one I know no,
the attack didn't injure
someone close to you.
Though it did hit close to home;
The roads we roam. Thanks.
The Marathon was
too close too. May times of doubt
foster love, not fear.
"Time's fun when you're having flies." ~Kermit the Frog
