• April 9th — The Breakthrough of Impossible Realities

    April 9th does not arrive.
    It erupts.

    It tears a seam in the morning,
    a thin, shimmering wound
    through which light leaks sideways,
    as if the day itself
    has forgotten how to behave.

    This is the day of breakthroughs,
    not the gentle kind,
    not the kind that whisper
    you’re doing fin…Read More

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    redzone wrote a new post

    Laundromat Songs

    LAUNDROMAT SONGS "How long shall they kill our prophets as we stand aside and look?”                 ‑‑ Bob Marley   Saturday morning, the scene's the same round and round suds and foam, round and round energetic flashes of life play, giggle, and roam. "Can I have a quarter to play video games? Hey...

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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    depression

    darkened understanding talk to meinside my solemn skygrey as slate and cold toothe blue of the moment shine throughbeside myself with griefmy soul seek to hidedeep within the crevices of midnightnothing to shine no mirrors to glarewith great trepidation,...

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    • This was beautiful, deep, and sad. An excellent read. Anyone who has experienced these feelings, knows these words too well. Thank you for sharing.

      • hello dearest Brandon good afternoon thank you graciously I usually don’t like to share these it touched my heart you found beauty even here❤️

    • hello dearest Damian depression is that heavy feeling I really don’t like to write about it but sometimes it’s just there thank you my friend for bearing with me ❤️

  • CRAVING DESTINY

    “…… Our hearts and our minds
    they’re one and the same
    cause you are my kind.”
    ~~ Santana, featuring Seal (from the album “Shaman”)

    Long ago I came to see
    how I needed you so;
    how the gate and flow
    of your textured red legs
    would bend and go
    on forever filling my mind
    with world conquering adventure.
    Y…Read More

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  • The Old Man at the Window and the Immortal Cats

    April 8th arrives
    with the hush of a page
    that turns itself.

    In the big window
    the one that frames the world
    like a painting too honest to sell
    an old man sits,
    chewing a piece of old bread
    as if time itself
    were something he could soften
    with patience.

    He does not speak.
    He never…Read More

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