self

Walk forward into far

Creep tide take my hand
Till time abides this never
Fallen down in farthest realm,
Somewhere’s  darkest shore –

Cling under dusk grey sun;
Lay in forget-me-not blue;
Stand up, right, on morns star;
Walk forward into far –

Come undone, become, now come
Take nothing that’s not yours.
Hold everything, green, red or gold
Within your womb of old make peace
For fates hand turns, your life’s time-piece.

IW

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Oceans Four

Forgo, Not Forgotten

I ponder how people see others 
In their reflections peering back
vibrating in frenzied pools.
Perceptions of themselves not
forgot. Forgo forgotten shores,
hands of circles in circles spiralling 
compulsions of self as self defined?
Can they see themselves in the hubris
of humanity?

Understanding another comes
in stillness of self, knowing circles
and patterns definitions as perceived.
Hand in hand – around
and around.                                    ~IW~

This writing thing and stuff

1170 posts pending. 263 drafts.
What do?
Many a word there to find a place for.

 

It is this category thing screwing with me isn’t it?
I cannot recall why I put ALL my fucking posts as pending, though I think it was to try become vaguely more organised in it. That was the original intention of creating a blog over three (four?) years back, to have a place to put the poems and subconscious babble in some sort of coherent album type thing.

Now it is done, I don’t know if I should ‘undone’ it, or republish shit, or move along and let them be.

Though, one thing I DO know is blogging changed me and my relationship with people and the world, more than I imagined it could.
(for better hopefully, though in moments creating misery swinging oft toward elation…ffs. 😉 )

Another three years then?

Another thing –

I started posting some of the poetry on Instagram (It is fun a little, Kinda) :

 

Yes I realise I cropped it like a novice Instagrammer – that would be because I am one.

IW