Plowing and sowing the world of sleep
It was hard work, but he was a farmer to his soul
Little furrows stretched to the horizon containing the roots of fertile dreams and scream-inducing nightmares
Lying there, waiting to be harvested
Once he was ready and picked them, Morbius would pay him handsomely for this crop
Wait till the slumbering humans were served these delectables!
She wanted to bare her essence, her soul
Embracing her truth before setting it free into the world
Cauterizing the cuts those words caused by her clutching them so desperately tight
Releasing them would allow so much healing to enter
Except she just couldn’t do it. She screamed as she hugged them tighter
The idea of giving up her truth and being naked, of needing to find a new truth
She would be an open window, an empty container, a person without value, a woman without …
Suddenly the color leached from the world around him
And nothing seemed to make sense
Depression is a bitch
*Not autobiographical
Putting her unadorned baggy white dress on
Leaving so much to the imagination that it hurt to even try to fantasize anything about her
And piling her hair up under her uninspiring hat
It gave the world the perfect vanilla picture she craved them to know
Nobody would expect the wildness contained therein until it was too late
Cooking the lights out every night was her goal in life
Harvesting awesome flavors from every ingredient she touched
Extreme foodies would travel from halfway around the world to sample her dishes
Focusing on that dream, the six-year-old watched her mom boil water
You open your mouth wide open
And nothing but air and odd noises escape
Whisking away a contagious bit of tiredness and projecting it into the world
Never ending as it spreads, until one day the whole universe falls asleep
The situation was very sticky that she found herself in
All the good intentions in the world were not going to help her now
Pushing the button, the last of her coins activated the slot machine
Everyone watched the miracle on the old grainy video when they pulled the …
Bounding the dunes without a care in the world
Under the glittering stars high above
Giving a middle finger to the rest of the jealous, stressful world
Going to do this forever and nothing was going to stop me
Yet that’s when the car’s computer crashed and left me stranded on the God-forsaken beach all alone
All the queen’s men stood tall; heads bowed low
Giving respect for the pine box being carried between them
Every eye was dry, but their hearts wept with each beat
Nothing was more important than being there to respect their fallen comrade
Then they would go out into the world and exact revenge
Someone once said all the world is one of these
That may be so, but not everyone is an actor
As I feel a lot of people decide to spend their time as props
Giving others something to manipulate but not adding much to the plot of history
Enabling them to dodge the question of to be or not to be because they were afraid to perform
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
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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.
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Never Short On Words 