Machine Brain

A forty minute bumpy ride, with engine rumbles disrupting the air that I hear but don’t listen to and even the voices that fill my diminishing personal space are just white noise in my quiet. Somehow I’d forgotten how to lose myself in thought. I’d forgotten what escape was. I’d forgotten that this time was…

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Writing poems with song lyrics

Trees watch those who feel midnight on their wings silhouetted against dust and perilous dreams- walking through drearily sweeping loneliness. Moonbeams purple in windows and eyes, sweet lilac wonder sings above the sky. Hands bottle every dusty pleasure, forgotten timeless souls, imagination running wild, butterflies settle caught in their mind.

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On writing a poem every day

I think I’ve maybe learned more from this experience ending than I did during the actual writing. Now I’m reflecting rather than being caught up in it and I’ve realised the importance in making time for myself that isn’t just mindlessly watching Netflix or YouTube. So, this is something I’m going to try and make an effort to incorporate into my life, because I think it has an impact for the better.

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Fleeting Flowers – A poem

Even the pinkest pinks will fade
Eventually, perhaps to a dusty rose,
The open becomes closed, even
The prettiest flower will cease to glow.

Bold days turn to cold days, even the smoothest
Petals fold, soon brown replaces gold,
A shrivelled insignificance falls to the dirt,
But leaves space for a new bud to grow.

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