Monday, July 4, 2016


Alleyways and rivers, they are often the same.
Dark, protruding, even invisible.
Winding through each pathway is what we do
To find ourselves capable of mapping where we are..
Where we go.. where we belong.

The limbo is as real a think-tank as the steps we take to enter any door.
Mulling, musing, chewing through details,
By default, our time is waxed on meaningless detail.
There is no particular rationale for why this is the way that it is-
It just simply IS.

For every one breath spent of the gilt of good living,
I have torn new teeth into ten-thousand hours of mindless consultation.
Sinking into the mire of expectation-filled contemplation.
Why can I not live and let live......
Or perhaps, I do and deny that I do, to feel more 'normal' with the way I have become.

And I have become calculated, determined, cross-referencing each motive
In an effort to cause beneficial chain reactions
That spill less milk than honey, into this world of unpredictable precedence.
But then again, they do say.......

We hunt our diamonds in the rough.

Until then, I hunt on.

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