I feel two feet taller today
I feel the warmth of the sun on my face
I feel the wind swirling around me,
Drawing my clothes
No need to count the hairs on my head;
You carefully manufactured each one.
No need to memorise the colour of my eyes; you designed their every hue.
Your seal is imprinted on my fingertips.
Attitude or art
Brylcreem or bangs
Combed or curly
Dapper or dangling
Bruised reed and and smouldering wick
The wish to die just a little bit
Pressing me in
On a day like today, when the sky is an infinite blue and the air is fresh, a simple breath is a pleasure, fulfilling the primitive yearning of a human being, to be part of something bigger than oneself.
I'm writing a poem on anomia. I can't think of a thing to say.
Pride is like barbed wire fencing around the heart. It keeps people out. It isolates the one within. It is a hinderance to generosity. And anyone who tries to surmount it, risks getting badly injured.