Stream of Consciousness #9

Standard

I don’t think my hands have ever typed so fast! the rhymes literally poured out at a rate I was not sure to keep up at. i was possessed. utterly possessed. And I have just finished reading Joan Baez’s first autobiography, I don’t know if that helps…

 

Stream of Consciousness #9

who was who was pooh was greatly appreciatledy do

like whispers in summer

you were my love

like bouncing balloons on a string

you were my everything

like balls on bells on a summer day

you were my grass to my hay

my laugh to my chuckle,

my seat to my buckle

my trough to my stream

my laugh to my scream

my tie to myshirt

to my button

to my skirt

seam

you are were is my everything

like free lancing on the street

selling things so you can have food to eat

like strings on ropes and cords and strings

like my heart that constantly sings

whatever you do

you know you is my everything

like money in your pocket

like a chain of golden locket

like springs on balloons

and like the harvest moon

and like the trepidation s

or our silent meditations

and like the wind blowing at your feet and like having the stars to meet

like the wind blowing through the dust

like your mind saying, no , you must, you must

like this itch in my head that says you might prefer me instead

like this shallow of sorrow

that says there is no tomorrow

what’s the point of living,

I find myself saying

when everyone is already dead?

Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s