the song of the wine glass
forgetting why you exist
lost to the red swirling
finishing your sentences
while no one is looking
pouring another half-glass
living in the present
the song about forgetting
Poetry | Stories | Photography
the song of the wine glass
forgetting why you exist
lost to the red swirling
finishing your sentences
while no one is looking
pouring another half-glass
living in the present
the song about forgetting
The last tree for sale
a successful promotion
Saw: busy at work
the contrast in the sky
grey clouds touch the soft lemon,
in the distance, fire becomes mauve
a day to celebrate life
chocolate eggs, meeting with family
in sombre contemplation for the dead
the voices of the dead
they echo from the wars and genocides
calling for an end to the horrors every day
the contrasting sky changes
grey clouds meet lemon and yellow hues
a peaceful transition to a slow autumn night
Floating across the world
lost in a travel daydream
Longing to touch the cold sea
to feel black sand on the shore
Standing outside of my old self
the freezing sea and the green
Losing myself to a life in the Alps
to feel the snow fall from a chalet
Floating away to any place
Wake up, shower, get ready, and leave for work.
Coffee.
Work.
Leave work, commute home, have dinner, think about free time, take a shower, and sleep.
One of the many is a functioning product.
One of the few is considered defective.
Where do the defective products go?
only nature moves
the segmentation of time
whispering your lie
you try to create more time
cheating yourself out of life
rain falling somewhere
the pressure of the workday
rolling in ice cream
fiery anarchist notions
a burning desire for change
new knees, strong bones
a youthful zeal for living life
feeling democracy fade
a candle, once a flame, burns
falling away from work
old knees, weak bones, tired
forgetting in the end
memories of what mattered
falling into the grave
the crinkling wrappers
cats meow in unison
an endless hunger
falling into a nightmare
reality overload
She left the laundry on the clothesline until 9 pm, giving herself an excuse to go outside and look up at the moon.
Standing there watching the sky.
The moon appears among clouds like the moon from her memory, evoking feelings of a new beginning or ending.