Perfectress

These notes

Are decaying blossoms

Dancing briefly on an afternoon

Against the gloom

What the backdrop brings

How the crescent

Ringing round

So concurescent

In tides

In pools

In Boolean jewels

A billion ones

A billion nones

Stars

What the backdrop brings

Crow

And crouching

Confluescent

Direct flight

But such a crescent

Foaming

Rolling

Roiling

Crest

Tide

Time

Tether

Reach

Racing past a distant peach

Orb a glow

Like basalt beach

Backdrop

Notes

And

I

Backdrop

Notes

And

Diye

ia Ra (Poem and Song)

Poem Song –

I’m the paleolithic hunter
Imagination of the sun
And I run
And I run
And I run through the air and the ether and the atmosphere

The flame you become
Tells I am near
Lonesome is a fantasy

Presence is reality

I’m the skipper of duality
The captain of each sacred Sea

Ia Ia I a RA
Ia Ia I a RA
Ia Ia I a Ra


My social media | https://www.minds.com/Weirmellow
Tipjar | https://www.patreon.com/TheFractalJournal

Daily Poem # 4 – Skip Barber Died (Song?)

 

Straight from the tone-deaf arythmic brainhole of the Indie Yard Brigade.


When all the Skip Barbers were gone

There remained just one sad song

When all the Skip Barbers were gone
There was just one ring a ringing song

And it sang and it said

We never remember to fly

We’ll never remember to fly

We’ll always forget

Well ever forget

Every reason Why

When all the Skip Barbers were gone
There was just one ringing old song

It said goodbye
we’ll never remember to fly
or how
o Woah

so i say so i said

whats the difference between living and dead

eh

whats the difference between living and dead

these are the thoughts that a rang in my head

when all the Skip Barbers were gone

as one we all cried

as sad ringing song

all the day long

o how will we remember why


http://www.minds.com/Weirmellow – Socializing Social Society

mellow.mission.productions@gmail.com – email rarely checked

http://www.patreon.com/Weirmellow – tipjar

Urbock (Poem)

20180117_154008


The tin can sat

It was prosaic

It was transient

It was not subject for mosaic

Unless one’s reaching is transparent

As is mine

Though uncannily my eye has glanced upon it

Just in time to tow the line

As a monument to transience it is most fit

It’s aluminum

So it will last

Coincidentia Oppositorum!

Such appeals to language past

Are as hollow

As the sound

That tap upon such cylinder would follow

Yes perhaps I have said a thing profound

To twirl curlicues round the mundane

Is all the rage

And though it’s vain I do it here again

O what an age….

The current year…

When even innocent beers must fear…

To unwittingly become a show…

Through a thousand windows electric glow…