Posts

Blur and confusion

 Confounded Sports on the screen in the room, moving faces, bodies sounds of bodies smashing others, referees whistling sharply,  bruised and broken bodies lift themselves up from the ground groans, deep gasps of breath My eyes try to focus on the screen, how many ? Im not sure the empties line the floor by the bin slowly stand,  by the stumble and weave its about 6 empties o'clock water time ?   Maybe one more for the road what road is there ahead, as Im already home sit down again wake up in the early morning, the bottle balanced in my hand, unspilled groan, confused I wander unsteady to bed out like a light to wake in a blur int he morning and start it all again
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Trust lost

 Trust Such a fragile animal, in person its open, inviting, transparent accepting and non judgemental, seeing the best not expecting the worst,  not looking for falsehood, duplicity, alternatives transformed into a scattered, broken thing, so easily, by the simplest thing it spots the lie, or the half truth, the time you get told something that plainly cannot be true and thats it lost no coming back, ever
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Pasted smile

 Smile Wake up, unkempt, poorly slept interrupted head, pounding heart unsure, unclear why, confusion meets the scattered sunlight, blurred eyesight, scintillating  false colours, waiting the walls with rainbows standing, staring at the curved mirror unrecognisable features, old haggard puffy bloodshot showered and brushed mirror again, face cracking into a poor smile todays mask,  tomorrows puffy, haggard visage returns
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Following the sun

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 Sunflowers Face changing, always seeking the heat turning and following crowds following each other seagulls on the beach, watching  all watching seeing everything saying nothing being beautiful
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Still mornings

 Stillness The silence of the late night, or early morning, helps to focus your mind away from things that are hard, to things that might help to change inside or  outside No crazy thoughts, wheeling about boundcing off neurone and vessels, Calm and quietness
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Musings on love

 Love Love  never can it be too much unless the recipient  isn't receptive  or honest in theirs then it be a reminder of what they aren't and are and destroys both Always, can never be unless you're Alan Rickman Then it always is
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Misty rain

 Rain rain rain whispering, it softly drifts through the air, softly coating leaves on trees, blades of grass slowly bending as the drops coalesce  falls with a soft splash, barely heard Wind drifting the mist across the fields in the distance air slowly cleaning itself refreshed for the new day
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