One Word

One Word

Sitting native 
along  a way to find

Feel the air bend 

Hear the planet lend
Guidance

Am I loosing my mind

Or
 is it finally free

Coincidence..

Drowning in soil

Circulating the flow
 Nothing mere worth 
Eyes closed

Looking in the mirror 

They told me not to

Am I ashamed

Describe anything in one word

Took me a lifetime to understand

Hope I don't lose it again

The dream girl 

To you, and not another
From me, and not a bother
From a gaze
How my world has shrunken
Into a low rise of days
Slow ticks from a digital
Im missing you,

To you, and not another
From me, and not a bother
Can't wake up without a memory
The voice, the touch, the sense
Now a distant memory
The eyes, the smile, the mind
Now a distant memory
Im missing you,

To you, and not another
From me, and not a bother
Walking side by side
Alone
Grips from our fingers interlock
Alone
Reservation for two,
through the drive through
Alone
Im missing you.


P.s: I just woke up

20 Things I Did

I woke up early.
I wore a red shirt.
I parked in a handicap spot.
I left my television on.
I went food shopping.
I went to the gym.
I high fived a random person.
I colored a photo.
I prayed.
I took notes in class.
I did my homework early.
I changed my shoes mid day.
I ironed my shirt.
I fed a cat.
I ordered Chinese food.
I didn't tip.
I clocked into work.
I climbed a ladder.
I carried a bag of rice.
I went to sleep.

When I'm Old

Michael Holding

When I'm old and mankey,
I'll never use a hanky.
I'll wee on plants
and soil my pants
and sometimes get quite cranky.

Revise

When were spoiled and grounded,

I'll always use a towel.
we wipe on sand
and burn my laces
and usually cause minnable cranky.

Free writing 3 minutes

hi they way to to cane drive open train door door floor boom gate paint brave baseball team atlanta super granite bowl pick loss overtime car drive neon color lights blind the person brake before to late light switch from dawn under clock growls down stairs gaining try painting atmosphere forbidden air gravity walk on lasers cruise sick sea seals tourist vapid high rain lava heat trivia wheel of layers young water holding napkins break apart ground jogging jar freeway  

Poem

Turn Her Nation

Under dire hiii

Stuck in a jar color, blind

Stairs upon layers holding, heat 

Switch lava to rain 

A forbidden atmosphere 

Growls jogging, apart 

As eye walk brave towards a free,way

Granite doors open for,me... 

Brake 

A painting ground over,time

Gaining picked water

A tourist on our young, land 

Explanation: As I was writing the poem, it came pretty natural. Was not overthinking, just came organically. Creativity was presented in the the making. The truth is always between the lines, out of the box, and always in front of you. Takes patience to see.
It was chosen randomly and just flowed as I proceeded.
This assignment was expressive.

He was drinking

As the brim of the holder flowed such as a 

sea 

He, believed from his dry tone, down, 

it must be

He was drinking.

As the moonlight brightened

it was obvious 

He, believed right then. 

He was drinking.

No, it cant be, No, it will not be

He was drinking.

How can this be 

reality

He was drinking.

The cross on his chest 

fried

Eyes burning from its 

clove

He was drinking.

Where shall he 

go

What is called 

home...

He was drinking. 

Metaphors 
I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
—from Sylvia Plath’s The Collected Poems (Harper Perennial, 2008)

Redo

Metaphors 
I'm a swoosh in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ohhhhh house,
A melon la lala lala on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine ahhhhhh!
This loaf's big with its yeasty zip.
Money's new-minted in this blahhh purse.
I'm a means, a thud, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of crunchy apples,
Boarded the train there's no plop off.
—from Sylvia Plath’s The Collected Poems (Harper Perennial, 2008)