Words hung in the airs senses.
Time travels through lives
Witnessed, real, imagined,
Surreal, from the unreal and real.
Filling space with heart. Existing,
leaving to question its birth.
Story tellers souls are moments
of everywhere and everyone.
The worlds tale heard.
Just words, but we breathe them
with our souls wrapped inside
everything’s silent hope
The journey of hearts – ours
and yours.
The story of being human.
IW
Moments
Pass in dusty ledges
Fingers trace mottled wood
And stop.
Breath a frame
By frame
Spoken forever
Fall into the shape
Traced, held in wood
In mottled fingers,
Side by side moving breath
To breathe, in
Breaths motion picture
Framing words.
~IW~
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
