River’s Choice

The river used to flow for me.

Tired and worn down, lips cracked with the merciless blood leaks of ambition… the dry riverbed would flow for me. Would grace me with the refreshing honor of parching my thirst and revitalizing my skin.

My invitation was open ended like the fat man’s appetite, never rescinded like glory in the afterlife, I would often make my way there after night. Hidden in shadow but spied by the discretion governed pale eye of the moon. Under cover of light and darkness I would whisper the gray of my heart out and the river would flow for me. Into my mouth, over my brain, through my eyes, across my back…

I was never ashamed to be broken because I knew the river’s affection for me began in eternity and continued on into forever.

Very often it was the weight of identity in my mind which drove me to my knees in defeat… needing the coolness of the river, but forcing myself to endure the heat. Desert sand began to define me like a dictionary written in braille with seashells in hand. I couldn’t see well enough to stand. Burden bigger than the sea whale Hancock threw off the land.

I collapsed at the river for healing again…

But that day my awareness of my neediness and spoiled gain played against me…

The river doesn’t flow for me anymore.

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On Two Legs in the Afternoon

Boy sees girl.

Boy makes a friend.

Boy and girl are happy.

Boy sees girl.

Girl has cooties.

Boy chases, and boy runs.

Girl runs, and girl chases.

Dude sees girl.

Girl is attractive and giggles.

Dude doesn’t know how to feel.

Dude sees girl.

Girl is hot and pays him no mind.

Dude wants to give her a shot.

Ol’ dude sees girl.

Girl knows she is seen.

Ol’ dude has only one aim…

Man sees woman.

… MAN sees WOMAN…

… And the woman’s gaze comes to rest on the man.

–now make your own ending–

**

~The Wordsmith

Bone Tired

Fatigue is a curious creature.

In the one second it seems all consuming…

Until a tide of emotion rolls through.

Then it rides the wave’s crest back out into the blue.

It can scream at you…

GO TO SLEEEEP!!

Then when you acquiesce, rest bereaves you…

Such is the nature of fatigue.

It cuts at your consciousness until you bleed…

Plows the full area of your mind ’til you seed…

Weed the fatigue out of the garden of your ambition.

Be wary however, for overkill is Fatigue’s pet…

If Fatigue cannot take you for herself, then she shall have you spin yourself around and kill ya self.

… Yet she seems ever so sweet.

All she wants to do is lull you to sleep…

Lull you to sleep…

Lull you to- zzzzzzz…………………………………

**

~The Wordsmith

Say What?

The water was ice cold…
Wasn’t a sprite though
Although…
I think I saw a sprite in the snow…
Perhaps it was a snow angel.
You never know about ones gifts

What is the diff
Between a quilt full of legacy…
And just some stray fabric?
I’m in the wonderland…
And I’m a wonderful man…
I minister to these Oscars in the trash cans…
Always wonderin…
What does kool aid in another country taste like?

**
~The Wordsmith