Crunchy salty goodness played footsies with his tongue
Relishing in the dulcet bass tones with each bite
It made getting his fingers greasy so worth it
Still he wiped his hands on his pants before grabbing his Coke
Putting slick hands on a wet can could mean instead of drinking it he would be wearing it
Chilled to her bones, she tried to finish her typing, listening to the percussive clatter of the keys
Only the chattering wasn’t just the keyboard, but her teeth beat a duet with her fingers
Leaving her to wonder if the furnace was ever going to kick in
Didn’t remember she had placed a hold on it so no heat came for a long time
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Fast-food restaurant grease ran down his chubby fingers.
Reaching for the cup of bubbly sugar water to wash it down, he took a long swig.
It tasted so so good. He snatched up his burger and took another ferocious bite.
Eventually, the stuffing of his face subsided and he turned back to the problem at hand.
Differential equations had destroyed his brain, but after that carb load, it was time to strike back!
Cupped hands holding all the ideas I had
And I am running to find the places they all need to be planted
Reaching my first destination, I try to plant just one idea
Really screw up and most tumble through my fingers to infertile ground. Devastating!
Yet after a period of mourning I rush on, and something miraculous happens. My hands refill!
Oh if I knew ideas would repopulate I would not have been so careful in the beginning
Now you know. Rush and let your ideas scatter, and wait to see what awesomeness grows!
There was the dark chocolate truffle right there
Egging him on to consume and enjoy the ephemeral experience
Mustering his willpower, he pushed the candy away
Putting him in touch with its shiny ebony brown exterior, but he got up and walked off
The fact that he licked his fingers as he left was totally not a cave
Words tumbled from his fingers and pooled upon the page
Irrigating the fertile ground allowing new thoughts to take root
Slowly those ideas grow tall and strong, awaiting harvest
Examining his crop, he began harvesting those who’s time had come and pruning the rest
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Reaching out into the crystal blue water
Enticing the multitudes to live among the outstretched fingers
Encircling all in the cycle of life
Frolicking in the changing currents
Silently the sun crosses the deep blue expanse
Keeping the ground below bathed in its warm glow
Yet my fingers and toes don’t feel the love
Words dribble out of my fingers
Raw unfiltered fragments of imagination
Incandescent with flashes of brilliance
Though often followed by long droughts of darkness
Engulfing everything in shades of mediocrity
Dawn was something he despised like the plague
And so when those red rays encroached upon the horizon
Yoseph gave it two middle fingers before continuing his work
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Wise. Witchy. Wonderful.
Story world
Never Short On Words 