#writtenconsideration

Cicada Sentences Vol. 2, 7.12.24 “Camp Break-Down"

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Coffee, cupcake, dairy milk

Right before life makes you see

Its many many cruelties

Now time has passed and

Your coffee's just black

Sleep is more important

Than giving back and yet

You still live on, in autopilot

When ages ago romantic was your plot

Now you're just keeping it alive.

They say it's nothing. Just words. Sticks and stones and broken bones, but words can never hurt you.

Dismissal. And the whispers crawl up your throat and steal your voice and you have no retorts.

HARDWORK and PERSEVERANCE at that hardwork.

A Feud to Carry Vol. 2, 2.10.24 “Sonorous Sonnets of Sorrow Most Sever”

Pain sits within the seat of my eye As a stone does in the peach With sweetness dripping ambrosia In biting, broken, painful overreach I would fight within the thrushes On the beaches and the sea Be loose with all the oceans of my soul Give floating rise to dreams reflected; yet to be Poisoned sips and looks too light of comedie Of art, oh, harlequin, oh common cunning punch With jabbed hands at well welled levers Devout in their faith, oh, believers, oh, lovers, the bunch Let me ingest, digest, and divulge my poisoned tears With stonéd arsenic cores Fallen from love’s embrace, from branch and limb Rotten, infected at the core Sweet sorrow, of you I’d not be parted Before the passing day, anew, anon, restarted

Our Souls Long For New Conquests 3.20.23 “Howl at the Midwest Moon

Starved amber waving pilgrims In prairie paired lanterned droves Roar across the skyline’s whims Blaring siren’s seventh horn Desperate, dirt-addled, salt of the earth souls Sending up mayday smoke-signals Angels blinking, smokey-eyed, distant in blaring shoals Racing for coastal desperado squalls Twister footed, taking midnight flight Fleeing father’s footsteps, echoing in the dark Westbound! Golden promises just a little further, right? Sinners struggle against pavement’s down-payment mark Bleary eyed love, morning sick of later-day sainted sun Sending up little lanterns of their own Question marks in the crossroad sands long overrun The dreamtide is surging, higher than crops have been sown When the road runs out of horizon How many soft-soiled souls will suffice? Falling salt-flat asleep towards tall-taled tomorrow

Hearts beat, minds learn

Sometimes for the better

Sometimes in return of

A greater tomorrow or a deeper hurt -

Lucky are those who saw it in sleep

Or learned it from others

Who stumbled in their sweep

The quickstep fumbled

But you asked those who got up

Felt it in your bones that

Lightning in the bottle is about to crack

And break whatever was inside the urn

It kept you weary, thinking in worry

It may have even kept you from

soaring and searching but

Premonition comes as a sign

You might fall, but you might rise

And you know you can't keep

Living your life in eithers

Either fear, either grief, either fail

Either falter, know that you will

Always have the chance to rise

Don't let the cards bring you down

Nor the palm read it first for you