Today I woke with air in my lungs, water in my veins, fire on my tongue, and the trembling earth in my bones. I awoke with the fierce spirit of my grandfather's fighting to protect our home.
By Oak Mountain2 years ago in Poets
Sparks Soft tinder starts Cinders spread asunder along side sizzling sights of low growing thunder The fire cries, crackles and rises
Wake it Take it Shake it - Unbeveled and Resynthesized A contraption shrieks out - witted and mortified "What a fit fillet! Fine Phoenician felts flicker and glitter, gathering gold gin tinders. Cinders inside my eyes arise and comply
The space is pregnant Churning with verbage unspoken and yearning to be heard Pulsing words pass with drumming heartbeats
I watch the sun kiss the clouds goodbye, as their fingers fly from his warm hand and into the present quiet of night they hold.
Bathe me in blue light Christ of Kings Street A ladies mantel clocks my mind past chorded and un-corded frameworks Patchwork Overalls
By Oak Mountain3 years ago in Poets
To you I say, I should've listened. Some days I know I don't speak your language; syllables of fuzzy coloured fragments. Your bright wit takes you to the top of my trusted list, and so I say, I should've listened.
I am sure you are aware of magic mushrooms, the funny fungus that hippies take at music festivals to high and wild. In 2021, we have nearly all grown past that stigma. Mushrooms are no longer just for hippies.
By Oak Mountain3 years ago in Psyche