Today, 7/23/2011 after midnight, there was a beautiful half moon in the sky. It was only a little ways above the tree tops. From the height at the top of the slide on the toy in the school playground it was a bit of a hypnotizing sight for me, more than usual. Perhaps being off the ground gave the illusion that I was that much closer to that beautiful hunk of rock countless people admire night after night.
Oh waning half moon, how you have revealed your truest nature to me.
[Note: Entry number was "#33333045"]
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The Mind
Mainly a record of my more interesting dreams that I was able to remember after waking up. (Apparently my uncontrollable confessions, as well. In the form of poetry. All to the same man.)
If the boy who draws
lets you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.
— Alaska Gold
lets you look over his shoulder.
If the poet
smiles
and shows you her words.
If the girl who sings for the shower only,
hums a song
in front of you.
Know that you’re no longer a person
but the air
and dust
that fills their lungs.
When the world perishes,
and all things cease to exist,
you’ll remain inside an ink stain,
a paint brush,
a song.
— Alaska Gold