A melody to be played
In rhythm to the heart
Meter set by the soul
Strings twang down the spine
Movements made in tune
A primordial polyphony
The body in contorted symphony
Each breath a rest
As digits tap the missing beat
This music, my muse
A coda to the day
A respite from the clang
Of the specters in my brain

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Kira: I’m done with self-care.
Kira: Everyone else can take care of me now.

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"Reflections"

I saw the lamplight
In your eyes
And the moon
Reflected
On your back in the night
I watched the curtains dance
Like you and I at a ball
And I remembered
The first time you took my hand
And how we ended up here
I could never sleep
Beside someone
Before
Something always kept me
Awake
But here I am
Not ready to close my eyes
Only because
I cannot bear
To tear them from you
For a single second
And that is how I
Find my rest
Finally
With my hand
On the small
Of your back

#smallpoems

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softly fluttering
watery, bewildering
up the river bank

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If you say 'Linux' 3 times in mirror a Foss person appears and ties you up with with ethernet cables and talks about penguins and hats

For the glory of want
And excuse of need
We feed the beast
Of unrelenting greed

If you listen to silence
You'll start to hear
The sounds that ears ignore
Like wind underneath doors
Dust settling in the corners
Shuffling across the carpeted floor
Each slight movement, a chance
To hear the unexplored
For the vast vacuum in those moments
Immediately after the roar
Is a deep and deafening silence
That we have been longing for

This is rather nifty.
muted.io/

Learn music fundamentals and play woth some virtual keys or drums. Well designed too.

Wait for the nights delights
Lapping up star-shine
After being spoon-fed the day
The sun with its brutish heat
Is now laid to rest
And the moon on the rise
Fills me with longing
My heart belongs to the night
When time slows to still
And the air filled with sea dew
Carries the smell of being home


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is all I have, as a simple circle, to describe the incomprehensible beauty of the sphere.

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Writer’s Block is when all the imaginary people in your head refuse to speak with you.

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it's not erasure. I simply converted the verse into forms of energy more acceptable to the senses. Kinetics, thermals, pressure changes all smaller than the beat of a butterfly's wing amidst the chaos but they all, undeniably, existed. Once written, the Words refuse to be destroyed. The Universe will not permit it.

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I remember well
as the shadows fell, the light
of hope in their eyes

It's a sound in your head
A little voice of I can't
Recalling the past
Replaying mistakes
Reminiscing the lies
Saying I'm sorry till the throat is sore
Ignore that noise
The dissonance of doubts
The fear of failure
It's the last thing you need
Even if it's the first thought you have
Embrace the imperfections
The tiny corrections
On the path to don't know where
You deserve the tender love
That turns self loathing to self care

Saddle up that moon
And take it for a ride
Wranglers of the night sky
Fast burst radio waves
Circling nearby
Space faring sycophants
Waiting for a ride
In the rockets glare
We see what remains
A planet detained
Suffering and maimed
By denizens deranged
And yet there are the few
The fed up and brave
Who will fight for this plight
Until this blue dot is saved
And so we set sights on space
Find solace in that race
That dream still remains
Though it's purpose has changed

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