Something real,
Something alive and
Breathing hard,
Announcing the arrival
It’s beyond spiritual,
Requiring that discipline.
Man picks the notes
Following a woman’s voice.
Cascading strings of divinity
Into a basket of expression
Moments in between still paused
Walking into open music,
Section still free styling,
The mind of creation,
Onto the immortal.
Stepping on my toes,
You believe you know
Yet you know.
We are gods.
Brothers and sisters,
Father’s and mother’s.
One can not exist without the other.
To destroy the ego is
Under review.
No hiding now,
Exposed to the reality of
Each breath.
So I seek to kiss this night.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Shane Harrington and writers in Poets and other communities.
Was I a Model in Japan?
During my time in Nagoya I worked and lived at the strangely famous hostel and café Nagonoya. With its chequered floors and florescent lighting it felt quite dated, but I think that was supposed to be part of the charm. The dorms were always fully booked on weekends with domestic tourists and there was always a buzz in the downstairs café. Camera crews were constantly in and out of the place interviewing the Japanese staff members who worked the café. I think it had something to do with the egg sandwiches. At least that was what was on most of the merchandise, except for that one dishcloth with the owner’s face on it. Was I being employed by a local celebrity?
By Susanna Kiernan6 days ago in Wander
Comments (1)
Splendid!!!