Posted in stream of consciousness

Wave / Figment

RDP: Wave
FOWC: Figment

These waves are a figment of my imagination
Of our collective belief
Problems washed out to sea
Pulled away as we lounge on the shore
A collective fatigue
Roasting on the boardwalk
We try to collect it
Pay copper coins to taste it
They clang into an endless bucket
While our tongues shrivel
There’s no water here
No salve for our burns
These waves wash us out to sea

Posted in stream of consciousness

Mental Wanderings

My mind is wandering

Sinking in the sand

Riding cresting waves

Dappled light clearing the way

Cutting through

Water heavy with salt

We can’t help but float away

When will we know we’re lost

Where the moon rests on the coast

A horizon ever pulling back

Tempting our dreams

Foaming with life

Treading thick seams

How will we know

Posted in stream of consciousness

Austere / Lollygag

Welcome back to Stream of Consciousness Sundays, where I have a random word and write for whatever comes to mind for a certain amount of time (5-10 minutes). Today is 5 minutes (more or less)

Word: Austere – FOWC & Lollygag – RDP

Austere words line the hall

Pictures in which we lay

Slow smiles lollygag across the face

Spilled milk resting in the valleys

Against graham peaks

Bury me there

Where lesions are eased

I’ve been busy for months it seems. At some point I decided to start my own business which has preoccupied me like nothing else. I know I need to make time to write though and have been working on freeing time up for that.

Posted in stream of consciousness

As If

Your “Hi” is imperceptibly soft

A memory leaking from your innermost corners

A petal, already wilting

As if you know what’s coming

As if you truly believe

I won’t forever wander blindly into your arms

Guided only by the string that pulls me

Always directly with little lax

A tightrope for my heart to run away on

Photo from the Pexels free library – for the visually impaired, the photo shows an empty chair in the middle of a white room.

Posted in stream of consciousness

Gnaw

There’s something gnawing at the edge of my spirit

Small but persistent, hidden

Words once exchanged, hasty love

Bought sight unseen

Stored away in dark, cool places

It becomes secret doors

Scraped away in stone

And hidden ruminations

Based on smell alone

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Gnaw