it’s nice to talk
this morning
sun upon a blank slate
across BlueSky a hand reached
and warm chalk wrote
her reply
and handed back the chalk
it’s nice to talk
oyoguhito.bsky.social
it’s nice to talk
this morning
sun upon a blank slate
across BlueSky a hand reached
and warm chalk wrote
her reply
and handed back the chalk
it’s nice to talk
once my dad
made me a vial of smoke
by blowing his cigarette breath
through a straw under water
and into a vial which
when opened
disappeared in a puff
and enough to say
that once
i caught the word
sad
the relativity of two unrelated stares
age looks deep
into the past times
youth looks high
into the future times
both are unfocused
waiting for the clarity
of the right time
which neither realise
is now
hey high
a sign of the times
hanging on one bracket
squeaks ill of the dread
so
i write my own poems
i read my own poems
i share my poems
meet me face to face
down in the woods today
and we’ll have a picnic
sandwiches of laughter
on a gingham cloth
we’ll pour each other’s poems
and drink deep
there on the stream’s bank
we’ll write with a stick
we wos here
at the going down of the sun we’ll bundle it all up
and walk by the light of our brilliance
that the moon will swoon over
i said he noticed things
grains
beached on the sands
of a life
time’s tidal times
visitors come and go
thoughts remain
memories
as deep as whales
blow time
you would think
as you do
that we would too
so sparkle
my sunny gifted boy
collect the grains
build your sand castles
for the tide is coming in
and life’s boat awaits
a thought ran away with me
language
a corral a stallion
what can language jump over
but language itself
where would language gallop
if the language of destination
we’re not the elastic anagram
of changing thought
as planning planned to all along
scrap newt and bat rules
that’s what the headline said
and then they added toads
just for good measure
tales of the bank river
running to the golden treasury
you cannot serve frog and mammon
so they chose mammon
and devil take the hindmost