Today, 7/23/2011 after midnight, there was a beautiful half moon in the sky. It was only a little ways above the tree tops. From the height at the top of the slide on the toy in the school playground it was a bit of a hypnotizing sight for me, more than usual. Perhaps being off the ground gave the illusion that I was that much closer to that beautiful hunk of rock countless people admire night after night.
Oh waning half moon, how you have revealed your truest nature to me.
[Note: Entry number was "#33333045"]
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The Mind
Mainly a record of my more interesting dreams that I was able to remember after waking up. (Apparently my uncontrollable confessions, as well. In the form of poetry. All to the same man.)
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If the boy who draws
lets you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.
— Alaska Gold
lets you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.
— Alaska Gold