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    legion

    fervently attempting to express myselfwith molatov cocktails metaphorsbuilding my ego, bringing down my soulmy voice rises like smoke and insanity comes out of medarkness talks and it looks like sunshinea warm dappled day lulling you into peacemy voices warn...

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    • The voice in our head, the legions that rule can take over if we’re not careful. I fight my own war when negative self-talk invades.

      • hello dearest Tim I am fortunate actually it took many miracles to get me to this age so many brushes with death…nature is beautiful to look at I guess I just have to remember my time will come no matter where I am and all I can do is do my best until then I am just feeling my mortality thank you my friend ❤️

    • Vivid and sharp. Fantastic work.

      • good morning dearest Thomas thank you graciously for the understanding and lovely comment ❤️

    • Powerfully penned, Brenda. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Three toddlers wore rain

    In the yard, in the fogof a heavy downpour,two toddlers wore rainlike tight-fitted jeanswhich clung to them soggyin moments of gleewith a spin and a spreethey giggled and laughed,a thousand thuds,as each soaking thudof their shiny red bootsforced a...

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    • Oh! This reminds me of when me and my brother would play in the rain when we were kids.
      In the front yard we didn’t have stickers so we would be barefoot. Lol
      Good times!

      • I did it in high school one day with a friend. We kicked a can in the front of the school in pouring rain and kids were watching from the windows. He’s since passed away so I’ll always remember that day being glad we did it. 🙂

        And yeah, us kids also ran in yards in the rain leaving our parents aghast. lol

        Thank you for the comment, Adelly. 🙂

    • childhood was full of such days for me I’ve always been an outdoor person this is beautiful Tim ❤️

    • Powerful. So true.

    • Beautifully penned, Tim. Excellent write with a nostalgic flavor my friend. Nicely done. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • Time you word painted a vision of innocence here. I am enchanted by the scene you wrote so well. You captured the joy of childhood wonderfully and i enjoyed this much.

      John

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    Threshold of Realism and Surrealism

    Realism is a distant, flickering star. I know not what the tastes of reality are.   Some will share this glimmering sky with me, and to them, fortunate enough to see   a surrealist, star-blanketed day-sky.   I abide by the lonely confines of the only home...

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    Poetic Firestorm

    It is a firestorm that rages and whirls within my body, that no hand of sanity can smother.   My innards burn, my blood boils, the flesh upon me bubbles.   Sane, as I may have been before, the virtues that encased this body with innocence has long but...

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